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402.666667	2022-05-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone trundled back down from the sky, landing upon the dirt beside Cumhall, it skittered up his back to rest upon his shoulder as it began to report what it had found." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He sighed\n```diff\n- \"Great.\" -\n```\nHe finished his maintenance just before Kuo arrived, the metal casing snapped shut and the arm shifted its weight back up onto his shoulder.\n```diff\n- \"So we can' continue forth, and you're sure there wasn' a wiff of another lead?\" -\n```\nHe cracked his knuckles absent mindedly, as he deliberated, but would be interrupted by the arrival of the bandit.\nHe smirked behind his helmet.\n```diff\n- \"Admirin' my handy work?\" -\n```\nHe stood and rolled his right shoulder, smiling at his own pun, he paced around behind Kuo as the bandit spoke.\n```diff\n- \"Will curin' this `Root Crown` lemme get inta tha' tower, because i may be inclined to assist.\" -\n```\nHe assumed the Root Crown and by extension \"This motherfucker\" Was in reference to the large beast behind the fortifications, he had no interest in killing or, not killing the beast, unless it would help him progress." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "The thick, yet dry wood that formed the fortifications that blocked the end of the road initially burned slow, yet soon grew into an intensified blaze of chaotic flame that sent a thick stream of cloudy, black atmosphere into the air and atmosphere about itself. Within the Watch, the artificial winds brought about by the principal nature of the Vektet Would not be as prevalent, and so the billows of smoke would only continue to rise and rise with the hot air, streaming dozens of meters into the false-green sky above.\n\nSlowly, but surely, as the two deliberated, the barricade would burn away, reduced to but a few smoldering braces, and dry, carbon-hued wood that snapped and shattered as loosely as dead wood to the touch. The fortification withered away, and the path before them was left open.\n\nSlowly, but surely, as the two began to catch sight and sense of what was beyond the fortifications, they would be met the dominating presence of what was held behind it. The fortification withered away, and they were met with what was the single most `harrowing` Presence they had felt since stepping foot within the Ark.\n\nBefore them laid a guardian.\nBefore them laid a warrior.\nBefore them laid a beast.\nBefore them laid a Monster.*\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- ɪᴛꜱ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ɪɴꜱᴛɪɴᴄᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ. -```\n\nAn aberration of distorted facial features and an unmatchably enormous stature. A beastly figment of a once-man, eyeless, with horn-like, lusterless roots of gray sprouting from each eye-socket, twisting and warping the flesh of the brow, cheek, and jaw in its tumorous expansion. An entity of an utterly inhuman form, corrupted and defiled by the ever-growing progression of the parasitic root that spread throughout its flesh, gnarling its limbs and digits into unrecognizable masses of swelling Muscle.\n\nEven lain on the ground, it was taller than both of them. Its head had not yet lifted, and yet they would be forced by their very own instincts of self-preservation to not move a muscle forwards. To even be within the same relative space as the creature was Terrifying.\n\n\n\n`It clutches its sword, and so begins to stand.`\n\n\n\nOn its feet, it was a Tremendous Four meters tall, Dwarfing each of the two by such a margin that it seemed unrealistically colossal in nature.* The tarnished greatsword in its right-hands' grip was thicker and taller than the two stacked atop and beside eachother, and yet it wielded it with a single, damaged hand, wrapped, bound, and run through in every-which-way by the root that plagued its body. It could hardly bring itself to fully stand, and yet still it Dwarfed Each of the two outsiders to the Vektet.\n\n*`The Branded Exile — The Thorn-Crowned Nameless King, Guardian of the Ascent to the Second Floor.`\n\n```diff\n- ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʙᴏᴅɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ. -```*" } ]	224	1,208
1,763.666667	2022-05-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuo shifts his eyes upward, clenching his teeth at the billows of smoke polluting the green, skyward ceiling of the Exiles' Watch. Initially, he grimaced at the thought of the unneeded attention - Especially if it caught the eyes of the other outsiders - but suddenly breaks into a smirk. ``'Shouldn't matter anyways; let it be the signal of somethin' great comin' their way.`` \n\n```fix\n\"Should. Y'can stay on the sidelines and be my backup. If I do somethin' stupid, jus' keep me from dyin'. If I get hurt, I also need you to take me t' the clinic. Big sign, y'cant miss it!\"```\n\nThe flame devours the wood and the oxygen around it, the wood dissipating into nothing but a fine, black ash. The hero squinted, trying to see beyond the remnants of the thick smoke. He inched his head forward, barely making out the figure of a silhouette —\n\n*Kuouo is met with the sense of an overwhelming pressure. It was a harrowing guardian. A violent warrior. A voracious beast. The definition of a true MONSTER.\n\nKuo instinctively takes a step back, warning signs blaring loudly in his head. The smoke finally clears, revealing the beast amalgamated with the infestation of roots distorting their body mass. Despite everything about the roots and their parasitic nature plaguing their body, the bandit stood in awe at the behemoth's ability to even stand.\n\n``'This must be true Hell.'``\n\nHis pupils shivered, grasping both Infernium and the Veirok Cure* Even tighter in his sweaty paws as the *Thorn-Crown* Brandished the greatsword that scaled twice Kuo and Cumhall's size. Despite the second thoughts paired with the instinctive nature to flee, Kuo takes a step forward, taking a deep inhale.\n\nIt did little to calm his nerves, but set his mind on the right track. Mana manifested around Infernium, the hero beginning his slightly impromptu-gameplan effective immediately. \n\nFlames burst from the dagger, licks of fire flying through the air and targeting the masses of swollen flesh as Kuouo quickly backstepped out of the Thorn-Crown's range, anxiously prepared to dodge their enormous blade or any controlled roots that may come his way." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "```diff\n- \"Duly noted\" -\n```\nHe stepped back and went to crack his knuckles but was left with nothing but dissatisfaction as he had just cracked them moments ago. He didn't bother drawing his weapon as the bandit had so politely asked him not to kill the beast, and using his bare hands would make that much easier.\n```diff\n- \"An' here comes the guest of honour\" -\n```\nThe beast was large and intimidating but Cumhall seemed unphased, almost pleased, though he would rather not engage in a fight with such an intimidating presence, you don't often get to be picky on these kinds of missions.\nHe sighed, and cracked his neck, dropping into a more serious demeanour, he bent his knees and raised his fists preparing to intercept any coming attacks, assuming that such a dishevelled creature would use nothing but sheer force and strength to attack.\nThough now as he was face to face with the beast, he couldn't help but wonder weather or not it had some sort of magic behind it, best not to worry anyway, only makes it harder to fight." }, { "author": "THE ROOT-CROWNED KING", "message": "`The familiar scent of smoke dominates my dreams, and I—`\n`I inhale its acrid tones of soot and ash, my mind obliged to wander, and I—`\n`I ponder this scent that trails throughout my lungs, its nature and its origin, and I—`\n`I recall the days of my childhood, sat opposite that hearth, and I—`\n`I wonder where those days have gone?—and I—`\n`I...`\n\n`I recall...`\n\n`The ghastly scene of the surface before me, the earth bubbling with heat and smoke, and I—`\n`And I find my knees trembling, and I—`\n`And I am endowed with a fear and a scar my soul would never forget, and I—`\n`I...`\n`I don't remember this.`\n\n`I dream, and I—`\n`I see a battlefield before me, and I—`\n`I take in that scent, that scent of smoke again, and I—`\n`I recall those days by the hearth, and I—`\n`I recall that scar, and its pain rouses in my chest, and I—`\n`I tremble again, and I—`\n`I see the form of my beloved, my lifetime companion, oh, why do you... And... I...`\n\n`His blade to my neck, and I—`\n`I ask him...`\n\n`...`\n\n`The scent again overtakes my lungs, and I—`\n`I feel the warmth and heartbeat of those who approach me, and I—`\n`I would lift my head to greet them, in that faint dream, and I—`\n`I come to a realization, and I—`\n`I realize what the world is before me, and I—`\n`I...`\n\n The lusterless roots that course throughout the Root-Crown's head, disfiguring its eyes and spiraling into a crown-like form about his brow and head, begin to glow. While subtle, the familiar presence of a dim, azure-blue glow roused from within the wooden roots, their form slowly filling with vitality, taking on an identical nature to those that overgrew the Great Tower that stood behind the Root-Crown.\n\n`I see the spectacle of a brilliant universe around me, and I—`\n`I open my eyes to this reality, again and again, and I—`\n`I ponder, and recall, and I— yet I—`\n`I can only see that divine palm before me...`\n_ _\n\n```fix\nＹｏｕｎｏｗｗｉｌｌｓｗｅａｒａｎｏａｔｈｔｏｍｅ.\nＴｈａｔｙｏｕ，ｉｎｐａｙｍｅｎｔｏｆｙｏｕｒｔｒａｎｓｇｒｅｓｓｉｏｎａｇａｉｎｓｔｍｅ\n\nｗｉｌｌｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅ，ｉｎｄｕｔｙ，ｕｎｄｅｒＩ，ｙｏｕｒＥｚｅｒ```\n\n`To those who know not of mortality, there are no words greater a curse than these.`\n\n*```fix\nａｎｄｌｉｖｅ，ｕｎｔｏｅｔｅｒｎｉｔｙ．```\n\nAs the Guardian stood motionlessly before them, the horn-like growths of the parasitic root, bolstered in vitality, as though they were ready to sprout into newness of life, are choked of their azure blue glow. In its place, a dim light of orange surfaced. That orange light grew and grew, overtaking the azure, forming itself into intricate workings of magical runework that bound and desecrated the faint traces of `lucidity`* That the Thorn-Crown attained.\n\n`The decree is made, and so I—`\n`I lose sight and memory of that flame, and I—`\n`I see an orange light, and I—`\n`I recall my duty, that which was imparted unto me so many years ago.`\n\n*```asciidoc\n[ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄. ]```\n\n`And I come to terms—`\n`that this dream has ended.`\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒜𝒽...\"```\n\nA voice, most gentle, rises from the mouth of the monstrous beast that stood before them.\nIt was as one who had just woken from a deep slumber — well-mannered, and yet unknowing of the world around oneself.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"𝙰𝚑...\"\n- \"𝐀𝐡.....\"\n- \"𝑨𝒉.....𝒉𝒉𝒉...\"```\n\n```diff\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 Ｔｈｅｒｅ　ｉｓ　ｎｏ　ｄｅｌｉｖｅｒａｎｃｅ　ｆｒｏｍ　ｔｈｉｓ　ｈｅｌｌ．𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -\n- 𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨𝑨 -```\n\nThe beast let out a most revolting scream, chilling to the very core.\nIts voice was loud enough to pierce the ears at a closer distance, its scream howling throughout the entirety of the Exile's Watch — a Scream,* Not a Battlecry. \nIn this moment, it felt nothing but pain.\n\nThe dead roots that twist about its head contort and twist, shifting about and around its jaws, clamping them sealed, tight. Its voice swelled from within, yet soon died out, denying it the chance to make known its tribulation.\n\nThe orange, runic glow that bound the roots begins to glitter alight, and the beast clasps its sword tight, in each of its two, gnarled hands. Its eyes, having long been plucked from its head, granted it no sense of sight. Its ears, blocked and overrun with the dead, runebound root that parasitically ravished its body, granted it no sense of sound. Its nostrils, amalgamated with the dying tendrils of the root, granted it no sense of smell. Its maw now sealed tight, and its tongue clasped tight to the roof of its mouth, granted it no sense of taste. Its mind, overran with the ceaseless desecration of the all-corrupting root, would grant it no Thought. All that was left was its sense of Touch, Horrifically overran with the sensation of Pain, Its flesh, skin, and nerves twisted and contorted by the growth of the root throughout its body.\n\nAnd still, above all else, that duty shined through.\n_ _" } ]	511	5,291
714.333333	2022-05-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "``YOU WILL DIE.``\n\nKuouo, suspended in mid-air, could only watch in slow-motion as the greatsword is released from its wielder. In that very moment, those words repeated on loop in his mind, burning sensations of doom coursing through his body. Knowing he was at the apex of his jump, Kuo's eyes widened as the guardian's left backhand barreled through the air with immense force. With less than a second to spare, he shifts his legs upwards and positions his back in a laying position, mana being reinforced into his paws once more. With a short burst of flames, it allows him to dodge the Root-Crown's counterattack by Mere centimeters. The corporeal shockwave, companied with the hero's own evasive measure, sent him through the air like a rocket. He clutched the vial tightly, almost as if it were his only lifeline, his back scraping across the ground as he collided into it.\n\n```fix\n\"N-arghh!..\"```\n\nKuo grit his teeth, pangs of aching and burning pain echoing from the point of impact below his neck to his calves. He exhaled shakily, bearing the pain and forcing himself back onto his feet. Luckily for the goat, despite the fact that his cloak was now even more tattered than before, the layers of clothing and fur broke the impact of his fall enough to only leave a few bad scrapes and bruises.\n\n```fix\n\"How... The hell did they... How the FUCK did they see me.\"```\n\nKuo stared at the behemoth in front of him, his breathing shaking as he attempted to recollect himself. Looking on as Cumhall leapt through the air, he racked his brain to theorize the Root-Crown's method of attack-and-counterattack despite their definite lack of senses.\n\n``'They can't hear, they can't smell, and not that they could taste me comin' but... Their mouth is shut too...'``\n\nKuo looked at the dust clouding the air, settling below Cumhall's elevated arc of motion, the ground cracked with the sheer force used to power his four meter jump — And that's when it hit him.\n\n``'THEY'RE BLIND TOO, RIGHT. Dammit, what was the blind girl's name... The one that could feel vibrations and practically see...?'``\n\nHe shook his head, opting to look for the name later when he wasn't trying to cure a giant beheamoth. He started piecing the puzzle together in his mind, Extraordinary stratgems Beginning to manifest as he scanned the environment around them. There was no time to test his theory, but considering the extra-sensory power one could gain when was deprived of just one, it made sense... Especially after such a powerful swing of that sword into the ground, it solidified Kuo's train of thought.\n\nAnd so did Kuouo's impromptu plan... That is, if Cumhall managed to survive his close-counter interaction." }, { "author": "THE ROOT-CROWNED KING", "message": "The blind creature feels the shift of the air dissipate; its attention was temporarily driven away from the intruder who attempted to attack it utilizing whatever form of magic trickery they employed. As it Felt The intruder's body collide harshly against the ground, it would disdain to follow-up in an attack, even if — or perhaps Because — such an attack would likely result in them being eliminated as a threat or killed outright. Instead, as it feels the fast approach of the second intruder grow closer and closer to its body, the reverberations of their feet against the ground echoing throughout the beast's body in a ripple, it forced tight its muscles, bracing itself for an attack.\n\n`A straightforward attack, as was the last. And a straightforward approach, unlike the last. There were similarities and differences between how the two approached.` The instinct to Survive, And to Protect Dominated the creature's cognizance, honed into a single, yet multifaceted directive that unconsciously accounted for a multitude of details, granting the Thorn-Crown, driven mindless, a borrowed intellect that would allow it to counteract the intruder's approach. For, after all, even as limited as such intellect was... The attack was characteristically straightforward, and thus no troublesome matter to intercept.\n_ _\n\nIdentically to how it had intercepted Kuouo, the beast felt the vibrations of Cumhall, fast-in-approach, and in the moment that his feet left the ground, it prepared to sightlessly intercept the trajectory which he was Bound To come from. It could not directly see, through touch, his position, once he had left the ground — all it had to operate off was the Force And Direction Of the reverberations he created before going airborne. That was still enough to enable it to, again, Swing its right hand in an arcing swipe, backed by monstrous force, So to intercept Cumhall at the apex of his leap's trajectory. While weaker than its sword-swing, the swing was backed with unbelievable strength that far transcended any human — or even Superhuman — strength, Releasing a tangible shockwave in its wake. The shockwave would extend a short distance beyond the swing, itself, But thus would possess less raw force.\n\nPutting himself into such a linear trajectory — almost in Identical Fashion to Kuouo himself — would put him at an innate disadvantage. It would be quite a task to dodge the swipe while airborne, but tanking two blows of such tremendous force in a row was far from advisable. Direct collision with the creature's backhand Would likely break bones and send Cumhall flying, and direct collision with the shockwave would simply swat him out of the air, sending him back to the ground.\n_ _\n\nThe beast, in its undeniable might and position of vantage to continue pressuring either of the two intruders, each in a (likely) temporarily incapacitated state, would again disregard the idea of a follow-up. Instead, it would stay steadfast in the position it originally stood, using this moment of respite to slowly clasp the handle of its unrealistically gargantuan greatsword, tugging upon its form of heavy, rusted iron, unburying it from the rubble of the street." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Armed and ready to move once more, Kuo bit his lip, just realizing that Cumhall did nothing to alter his mirrored method of approach. He followed the Root-Crown's movements, heeding their swivel and preperation of their backhand packed with weight and momentum. Having noted that Cumhall, so far, hasn't prepared any evasive manuevers for close-calls such as this, Kuouo had to act quickly. *Infernium, held tightly in his left paw, burns brighter than it has in a long time. It wasn't just engulfed in flames - The metal melts into a powerful cyclone of fire, twisting around the caprine monster before being condensed into a small orb floating in him. With the hilt of Infernium* Still in his grasp, he takes a deep breath before slashing it in the air three times—\n\n```fix\n\"GET OUT OF THE DAMN WAY!\"```\n\n*```fix\n\"INFERNIUM - ACT 0.5, CROSSED FLAME FURY!\"```\n\nWith the intensity of a war cry, he called out Infernium's name paired with an age old Special attack.* The orb took an unstable form before unleashing three infernous arcs of fire magic, each with an amount of force equivalent to the shockwave of the guardian's backhanded counterattacks. They all powerfully burn through the air, precisely targeting the back of the Root-Crown's knee before his hand could make contact with Cumhall. Upon hitting his target, Kuo would fall to one knee, giving an exhausted wheeze with the taste of grinded dust in his mouth.\n\n```fix\n\"Rrgh.. Damn you, just... Just stay the fuck away, I got this!```\n\nAllies, some contributed and others just got in the way, that's just how things worked - And Kuo knows what it's like being on both sides of the aisle. For now, he needed Cumhall to stay put and stay Alive.\n\n``'Someone needs to take me to the doctor if I nearly die here, after all.'``\n\n. . . \n\nWith the usage of the *Crossed Flame Fury,* Kuo's mana stores were nearly tapped out — Especially after Infernium forcibly drew magic from his palm to gain its metallic form once more. It was reasonable to say he only had one usage of intense Mana reinforcement Left, and after using such a stunt to save his ally, Infernium wouldn't be able to shift into ACT 2 for a while, either.\n\nKuouo, leaving Cumhall to (probably) recover on his own, rises from his knee and guns for the tower, taking the risky role of bait he initially intended to assign to Cumhall - It was for the best anyways... Considering the death of Otaaraa and the attempted attacks on Kovrot and Aatkei, it was best to assume he didn't have the best interests of the Exile's Watch in mind...\n\nThis was Kuouo Aiche Dee's battle to fight.\n\nLooking back, he wholly expected the Root-Crown to follow with ferocious intent to slam their greatsword down and smite the intruder. ``If this is someone who only acts without any extra senses, no higher thought — Pure instinct, then I can expect their attacks to be the same.'`` He pushed forward with more confidence, but not without caution. While he was glad to be gathering some kind of read on the guardian, he knew he was on Plan B — and knew that Plan C, a situation without any mana whatsoever, had the lowest chance of succeeding. He hoped to cling to Plan B, saving his last bit of mana to go on an offensive instead of an unexpected evasive manuever.\n\nAwaiting the Root Crown's next move, he gets ever-closer to the entrence of the tower with his eyes locked on the beast's body." } ]	689	2,143
972.5	2022-05-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "THE ROOT-CROWNED KING", "message": "As the beastly creature swatted, it found that, in its moment of its diversion — its shift of focus-in-instinct — that it had been attacked from behind. Its leg buckled as the searing flames of incredible force collide one-after-another, three in total, searing the surface of its root-rotten skin and bringing it into a moment of disruption, its hand falling short to directly strike Cumhall, whether or not he, himself, would take efforts to dodge or not.\n\n As it had been revealed by its most troublesome, pained screams in the past, the entity that was the Thorn-Crown could, indeed, Feel pain. There would be no way for a groan or a scream to rouse from its mouth, sewn shut by the root, however; the beast, instead, furled its hands tight into fists, the atmosphere about itself slightly shocked by the mere tensening of its monstrously-girthy muscular structure. On one knee, the creature slammed its left fist into the ground with a frightening *RUMBLE, yet only in part reminiscent of the strength that it had demonstrated earlier. With its free right hand, it clasped tight the handle of the greatsword, and forcefully ripped, One-handedly,* The monstrous hunk of iron from the ground, hoisting it over its shoulder without so much as breaking a sweat. Its ease-of-handling of the two-and-a-half-meter long blade was a horrifying testament to its strength, and as the likely several-hundred-kilogram weight pushed down on it, it stood with only slight burden back to its two feet.\n\nIts Instinct Had begun to warn it that these two were much likely more a threat than their simple status as bemused intruders would seem to suggest.\n_ _\n\nThe creature would shift its weight to subtly turn at an angle that its face would half-face Cumhall and half-face Kuouo, fully-facing neither, and yet allowing it to control the two intruder's attacks without being sandwiched from two angles that it otherwise could not simultaneously control. The beast would prepare for another attack, and yet—\n\n*`One of them began to run for the tower.`\n\nThe trailing footsteps it felt pace towards the tower would not initially register to the mindless instinct of the beast. It was not a direct threat to itself, and so the borrowed intellect of its multi-faceted directive would not drive it to perform any action. That was, until, the frightful, searing hum of the orange-glowing runework inscribed into the roots that burrowed throughout its mind glowed, effulgently, alight. \n\n```asciidoc\n[ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄. ]```\n\nThere could almost be heard, again, the screams of pain from within its bound mouth and throat. But as the glow of the runes grew, so too did that notion, and all that was left to be heard would be the frightful sound of a SLAM.\n\nSLAM.\n_ _\n\nSLAM.\n\n__SLAM.__\n\nThose sounds, were indeed, the sounds of footsteps, each individually like the impact of an elephant's stomp against the brittle ground below the beast. Once its directive had been affirmed, the beast ripped forth with monstrous strength and speed, barreling towards the bandit with an unhindered intent to kill.* Its strides were not exceptionally rapid, yet the immense length of its legs and the sheer Force It was putting into each step projectiled the beast forth in a frightening burst of speed, matching Kuouo's pace if not well outpacing him in his approach toward the base of the `Ascent to the Second Floor.` \n\nThe orange glow of the runes which granted it direction burned with the fury of a roused flame, and so it could not conjure any other intent but to snuff Kuouo's life in a single instance. Damning any thought of that which was behind it — destroyed road, village, enemies, Cumhall, and all — it Pursued, And once it had grown close enough to do so, Utilized the full of its forwards momentum to bring its sword down in an overhead arc, slamming up-to-down so as to split the bandit in half.\n\nWere it to collide, split him in half it certainly would.\n\nWith or without him there, the blade would collide with the ground with tremendous force, sending a circular reverberation in terrible, upwardsly-eruptive force as it once had before, sending a small, but potently forceful shockwave about a Meter in diameter. Getting hit by either the blade, itself, or the shockwave that followed it, was Not an option. The shockwave would obviously possess less strength than the blade itself, yet still would be harmful enough to likely fracture Kuouo's legs." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Instinct, A culmination of all five senses into something beyond - The Sixth sense. Beasts and prey have walked the earth for eons on end with an intrinsic catch-all that lead them through their lives - That is, until beings of higher-thought became capable of going even beyond Instinct, Casting it aside as their main state of being and utilizing it as an Aid To their survival. Those beings — Those with a conscience — Would climb to be the apex being of the world.\n\nKuouo, sans the complexity of it all, noticed two simple things: The Root-Crown functioned completely on instinct; furthermore, despite the beast's terrifying, overwhelming power, he possessed the capability to outthink and outmove the guardian's patterned movements. \n\nIt was with this in mind, Kuouo enacted Plan B, striving to return the Root-Crown to a being of higher-thought once more.\n\nRight on cue, the root-rotted beast, burning with a sun-orange glow coursing through their roots, grasped the hilt of their enormous greatsword and tore it from the ground before noticing the pitt-patt of vibrations reverberating from the bandit dashing towards the tower they desperately needed to protect. Despite the approaching stomps that quaked the ground, Kuouo couldn't help but crack a smirk slightly marred with an uncertain tone. ``'Really wish it was that human playing bait instead.'`` He thought before a feeling of dread pierced his chest with the stunning realization that this Enormous guardian Was catching up. The Root-Crown's immense strength was a problem in itself, but the bandit had to be weary of their mighty greatsword's length too. After all, with their deadly instinct, the bandit knew its usage would be akin to using the mighty blade as an Extension of their own body.\n\n```fix\n\"Hhhooly shit-\"```\n\nKuouo broke another sweat, catching the half-second the Root-Crown utilized to prepare the arc of their overhead swing. He finally snapped his head forward, eyes locking onto the tower a meter ahead of him and gazing upwards. For just this moment, he clenched his eyes, shutting them tightly as the last of his mana pooled at the bottom of his feet.\n\nPlan B. It all relied on a semi-successful trick the bandit had not done since he was nineteen years old. Should he not succeed, he knew that the instant moment the sword struck him, he'd instantaneously explode into a cloud of dust. He took the leap of faith, jumping above the doorway to the ascent.\n\nThis was his Hail Mary, starving and low on mana, he knew that this was his only possible chance of defeating the Root-Crown.\n\n. . . \n\n``Pit,``\nFloosh!\n\n``Pat,``\nFloosh!\n\n``Pit,``\nFloosh!\n\n``Pat,``\nFloosh!\n\nThe bandit peeked one eye open, never happier to see the aquarium green sky not get closer to him, but rather, him get closer to It! Plan B not taken another step forward, but upward as the bandit's teenaged parlor trick succeeded at full force. Using powerful bursts of fire, he was able to Run Up the tower. With Kuouo's quick speed, he was able to run five meters upward, defying not only gravity, but the apex of the Root-Crown's swing. As the greatsword heavily swooshed downwards from its peak, Kuo used the last of his upwards momentum to catch both of his paws onto the wall, bending his knees and using the last of his mana to spring himself over the Root-Crown, beautiful ribbons of passionate fire stringing behind the cloaked hero's trail.\n\n. . .\n\nThe bandit peeked one eye open, never happier to see the aquarium green sky not get closer to him, but rather, him get closer to It! Plan B not taken another step forward, but upward as the bandit's teenaged parlor trick succeeded at full force. Using powerful bursts of fire, he was able to Run Up the tower. With Kuouo's quick speed, he was able to run five meters upward, defying not only gravity, but the apex of the Root-Crown's swing. As the greatsword heavily swooshed downwards from its peak, Kuo used the last of his upwards momentum to catch both of his paws onto the wall, bending his knees and using the last of his mana to spring himself over the Root-Crown, beautiful ribbons of passionate fire stringing behind the cloaked hero's trail.\n\n. . . \n\nFWOOM\n\n__*CRASH.___\n\n``. . .``\n\nThe bandit, grasping the needle tightly in his right palm, had prepared to land a meter behind the guardian, but made.\n\nOne.\n\nCrucial.\n\nMistake.\n\nThe bandit's eyes widened a millisecond before the fact - He had positioned himself to settle on the earth safely, but the ground he had planned to land on bubbled with ferocity, shattering with the Root-Crown's sheer force. Just centimeters from the ground, Kuo felt the Immense* Shockwave blow him backwards. He was quick to think, perhaps, too quick, as his right leg touched down, braking the bandit's momentum backwards before making multiple fracture shattered about his femur. \n\nEverything stops for a moment, Kuouo's heart pumped frantically, ringing took over his ears, he took three quick shallow breaths before-\n\nHe howled, fluids rushing within his wounded leg as every sense became nullified to only focus with himself. His vision began to waver, he heard his SOUL beating in his ears, he both smelled and tasted the dust rising up in his mouth, but Beyond The sweat and dirt he felt sticking his fur together, Beyond Exhaustion of mana he felt in his lungs, *Beyond* The immense pain flooding his entire body...\n\nHe felt a teensy bit of liquid seep through the vial, barely wetting the pads on his right paw. Upon unreleasing his tight grasp, he held it and looked down, being filled with something Beyond Rage, something Beyond Dread, it was...\n\nSelf-Preservation.\n\nIt all happened in a blur. The bandit looked down and discovered a crack in the vial and in that moment his body, fueled with a certain adrenaline, acted on Instinct. With his left leg, he sprung forward with the opportunity left open by the Root-Crown's recovery time. With Plan B still in effect, he uses Infernium one last time, darting it through the air with an underhanded thrust-throw towards the back of their left knee in order to counteract the Root-Crown dropping their sword and reaching behind them. \n\n*Hoping Infernium could offset the Root-Crown in anyway, that left Kuo, who dove through the air with the intent to drive the needle through the King's right calf." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "As he reached the apex of his leap and the beast prepared to strike him he could do nothing, posessing no way to alter his course mid air the momentum continued to carry him straight forward and it seemed there was no avoiding the assault.\nBut just then the bandit struck out and the beast buckled, collapsing to the ground. Rather than collide with it Cumhall flew straight over, his feet hit the ground but skidded and fumbled and he rolled and came to a rather ungraceful stop, but the serum still coursed through his veins and he would be unphased.\n```diff\n- \"Urgh, Cunt\" -\n```\nHe pulled himself up from the dirt, his muscles ached but the pain would not stop him, not even bothering to dust his suit as his head snapped to the scene that was about to unfold.\nIt all happened faster than he could comprehend, the bandit went up and then he came back down, and then he went down.\n```diff\n- \"Jesus christ allmighty in heaven above\" -\n```\nHe knew what was coming, and he had one shot, if they didnt deal with the beast now then death was sure to follow, he had one shot, and it needed to count.\nConstricting the beast was not possible, he would have to draw its ire and as the bandit demonstrated that would be rather simple.\n```diff\n- \"The tower..\" -\n```\nHe smirked at the hasty semblence of a plan that had formed in his mind and he broke into a sprint, closing the distance in but a short second his feet skidded against the ground sending up great clouds of dust as he came to a halt and then-\n``` BOOM ```\nSo sudden was the leap and so powerful the thrust the air split, a great mushroom cloud of dust shot up obscuring him until he reached the apex of his enormous leap." }, { "author": "THE ROOT-CROWNED KING", "message": "In this moment, even the thoughtless beast, devoid of intellect and of thought as it was, was forced into a dilemma.\nThere is a fraction-of-a-moment of hesitation, as the creature paused, and moved not a centimeter as Kuouo, injured, dashed in\n self-preservation, seeking to incapacitate its leg.\nThere is a fraction-of-a-moment of hesitation, as shock rouses throughout its empty, weary mind, as Cumhall struck the tower directly. His fist would do no damage to the tower, for the material which it was made of was nearly indestructable, and yet...\n\nThere is a fraction-of-a-moment of hesitation, as it is forced to witness, through the sense of Touch—\nThat which is supposed to be guarding, scaled, trampled upon, used as no more than a springboard—\nThe defiler, recovering, seeking to take its leg—\nAnd above all,\nOne who laid their hands on the Ascent to the Second Rise, itself.\n\nThere is, after all, one order, one imperative, one duty, for the creature, so terribly bound in thought and in mind by the orange runework that twice-corrupted the azure glow of the parasitic root that grew throughout its skull and mind. One command, from the godlike entity that oversaw all within the Vektet* — the revered CXXVII, The `Taae Cheit Ezer.`\n\n*```asciidoc\n[ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄. ]```\n\nThe runework glows alight, and an unhinged frenzy the likes of which the Branded Exile would never once imagine his mind to cascade into overtakes the entirety of his body. He is reduced to no more than a beast; his feral nature is compounded to the utmost, and so it lost all sense of false-thought as brought about by the facets of its directive. There is no more attention to be given to the motion of the intruder at its leg. There is no more mercy in hesitation to be granted to the intruders, and there is, for a moment, no more `██████`* Within the Root-Crown.\n_ _\n\nCumhall sought to create a distraction which the beast could not ignore. He succeeded, greatly.\n\n\|\n\nThe Root-Crown abandons its greatsword, and, as the ground beneath it seems to ripple like water, its body shifts into a haze. As if magical—\n\nNo.\n\n*This was physical prowess.\n\nIn a single step that quite literally tore apart the lower-muscular structure of the beast, employing well-over three times the force which its body could healthily sustain,\nThe ground beneath it rippled, its feet projecting it forth before the air could even have time to be shocked.\n\nIts appearance hazed, its lower body went limp, and the creature shattered the road upon which it once stood. All to bring it Forwards.* To, in less than a quarter of a second, close the distance between itself and Cumhall. And, in that moment, to use its own body to Exterminate him. Backed by the momentum of the utterly-unrealistic leap employing and abusing of its tremendous physical nature, It swung its fist with dizzying speed towards the intruder, seeking to strike him square in the chest and render him no more than a red splatter on the wall.*\n\nAs it intended, so it would be, if Cumhall were to be hit. Even a graze would kill him.*" } ]	1,002.5	3,890
639.8	2022-05-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Unrecovered from his adrenaline-fueled dive, the bandit, with his body cemented to the ground due to its perilous condition, is forced to endure the earth beneath himself rumble with frightening intent before being blown back even further due to the Root-Crown's quaking advance forward. Kuouo flew back, adrenaline running short as he screams in immense pain whilst barreling through the air. He crashed into the ground, the wind being knocked out of his diaphragm with dust spewing from his mouth and mixing into the dirt that clouded the air around them. He rebounded from the sheer momentum, his pupils growing hollow, consciousness slipping nearly slipping away from the bandit as his vision became shrouded in darkness. If he were to pass out now before verifying the Veirok vaccine's effectiveness, it could spell Certain doom.\n\n. . . \n\nFlwflwflwflw, skrrr - Shink!\n\n```fix\n\"A-AAGGGHHH, WHAT THE HELL!?\"```\n\nKuouo sharply inhaled, a sharp pain burning through a tiny incision made on his bad leg. His vision returned to normal, no longer threatening a deep sleep away from consciousness. He tilted his head slightly to the left, looking down at the corner of his eye to see Infernium Tucked away in its sheathe attached to his left hip.\n\n```fix\n\"Huff... Oh right, Infernium does that... But I, didn't even call your name...```\n\nAll the dagger could do is flash a dim, orange hue in response. Though it could not speak, it seldom provided Kuouo with evidence that it had somewhat of a mind of its own, seperate from its wielder. Infernium wasn't just a blade imbued with Kuouo's magic, no, it was bounded to his SOUL. Thus, if Kuouo fell in battle, so to would Infernium... But Kuouo wasn't really aware of that.\n\n```fix\n\"Well, in any case, ya saved me from passin' out... Gah, fuck this shit hurts. And it's gonna hurt a lot more in the mornin' too. I'm not gonna be able t' walk without dealin' with this.\"```\n\nKuouo, unmoving both legs, sat up and observed the Root-Crown with no noticable effects from the cure. He grimaced, gritting his teeth and lightly pounding the ground his left paw. ``'I don't understand, why ain't it workin'? It should be in his bloodstream now, right? I... I thought I won...'``' He hit the ground, this time smashing it with blooming embers flying out his paw. ``'FUCK, well... It's not like I can get to the damn second floor without curing him. I gotta get back to the doc and... Start from scratch. But first...'``\n\nAs Cumhall was left to survive the Root-Crown's dizzying onslaught, Kuouo desperately crawled to his left, aiming for one of the already decrepit houses left in shambles from their battle. He eventually arrived at the front of the doorsteps. With the knowledge endowed upon him by Anime, he snaps off a relatively unrotted piece of wood from the staircase, fixing it onto his femur before reaching into his inventory and grabbing a drab, brown, tanktop.\n\n```fix\n\"I'mma have to get a new one of these, this is the only color I have...```\n\nAfter tearing the tanktop from its side, he braced himself for the hard part. Without monster food in hand, he knew that this wasn't going to provide instant pain relief — In fact, quite the opposite. He clenched his eyes, raising his right knee just slightly before tying the cloth around makeshift splint. He pulled both ends tightly, screaming a slew of swears in pain with tears almost, just almost, welling in his eyes. With the worst part over, he finally gains the confidence to stand on his good leg, now looking towards the Ascent to see if Cumhall survived his encounter, and more importantly, If the cure worked." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He scarce even had time to observe the syringe go in, to learn the outcome of his move, faster than his mind could comprehend is life was in danger, his knees bent and he rocketed into the air escaping by the skin of his teeth, mere centimetres.\nThe beast would strike, not him but, the stone wall behind him, the result of such an impact would surely be a reverberating blast of epic proportions, and would send Cumhall barrelling wildly through the air, he put his right shoulder first as he crashed harshly into the earth, dust and dirt plumed up into the air as his body was thrown into the earth, skidding and rolling multiple metres before he came to a stop.\n```diff\n- \"Agh- fuckin' sh-argh\" -\n```\nHe put his hands to the ground and began to lift his body, but his right arm buckled and he slammed face first into the ground.\nHe flipped over onto his back, sitting up, he coughed and leaned forward his helmet immediately opened with a `HISS` and he spit out something resembling blood. Placing his left hand on the ground and transitioning to a stand, his eyes frantically scanned the scene until he located the bandit.\nFor the first time his face was visible, he was middle aged with many a blemish upon his pale skin and deep bags under his blue eyes, a few strands of graying brown hair poked out from the padded interior of the helmet and a trickle of whatever substance he had just spat out was dripping down his chin. In short; he looked like shit.\n\n```diff\n- \"Dont go dyin' on me, if this cunt is any indication of whats to come i don' wanna go up there alone.\" -\n```\nHe grabbed the hip flask from his belt and tossed it towards Kuouo, should he partake he would something that could scarcely be called a \"Drink\" More so straight alcohol with a bit of water added as to not instantly kill your liver.\nThe helmet snapped shut again and he faced the beast again, his posture was slumped, and as he went to roll his shoulder, his entire right arm fell off.\n```diff\n- \"Ya' think ita' kick in soon, shits startin' to wear off an' i cou' use tha' doctor\"\n```" }, { "author": "THE ROOT-CROWNED KING", "message": "The beast's fist struck momentously against the nigh-indestructable form of the `Ascent to the Second Floor`. Quaking reverberations that echoed with the sonorous shock which it imparted into the surrounding atmosphere with the sheer magnitude of force that erupted forth from its body — with such horrific violence that it literally Tore apart The muscular fibers of its legs, and, in part, its arms — rippled throughout the tower and into the ground, and from the ground, back into its body. Its legs, in the moment following, lose their vitality, overused to the point of ruination by its singular leap forwards, forcing the beast to its knees, its fist still harshly imprinted into the wall before it. \n\nThere is an unbroken moment of hush following the deafening impact of its fist, as the beast momentarily goes still. \n\n`Again, my sealed eyes open, and I—`\n`I begin to see.`\n\n`Swirling lights of blue,`\n`that twirl, freely, unbound,`\n`renewed, revitalized, like the halo of a great angel,`\n`as if in dance, about the divine hand before me.`\n\n`Azure, it flows,`\n`like streaming water, formless, and free.`\n`My eyes glitter alight as I set my sights upon its glorious form,`\n`and as it is, so I, too, wish to be—`\n\n__*`𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞.`__\n\nThe Root-Crown's moment of stillness ends, as he withdraws his hand from its impression against the remarkable stone that formed the `Rise.`\nThe orange glow of the runes that engraved its horns of dead root wane, in the dim lightt of a dying flicker.\nThe azure glow that originated from within its now-renewed horns of living, blue root return, in the brilliant light of revival.\n\n`I extend my hand to reach out for that light before me.`\n`The divine hand of duty goes still, and I begin to see—`\n`who I am, who I was,`\n`and that which I am meant to be.`\n_ _\n\nThe parasitic root that so grotesquely grew throughout his body begins to stabilize.\nIts gnawing, piercing, destructive paths recede, and its abhorrently-desecrated structure-of-body begins to transpose, into a form familiar — Human,* And lacking such beastly traits as his body once demonstrated. The horns of blue which extended from his eye sockets shift and coalesce, rescinding their harmful nature unto his body, as, finally, his eyes once again see the light of reality around himself. Their glare of a deep, crimson red were revealed, shining bright in the shadow of the great-tower that loomed overhead.\n\n`That's right.`\n`Remember...`\n`who you were!`\n\nHis repaired hand of a pale white reaches to clasp his jaw, bound by the remnants of the dead, runebound root, as he tears their husked form asunder, releasing his mouth and revealing his face in whole. Yet helplessly knelt to the ground, but again granted the ability to speak, the Root-Crown took a deep breath in, and for the first time in centuries, Spoke.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓪...\"```\n\n```diff\n- ☀ \"ＥＺＵＥＫ！\" ☀ -```\n\n*A prayer of the Knights of Sol.\nThe Sun that Purifies\nQuetaa Ezuek.\n\nThe elegant tone that spoke the words of prayer shook the very foundation of the world about the Guardian of the First Floor, and so manifested what was quite possibly the most brilliant demonstration of miraculous mana that had ever blessed the First Floor.* A heatless, false flame, yet one that burned millions of times brighter than candlelight. A celestial apparition of a crimson, cosmic aura appeared about the renewed form of the Guardian, its holy light searing the impurities of those around it with its tangibly divine presence.\n\nIt was like the dying Sun itself appeared before them.\n\nThere was only one entity within the entirety of the Vektet Who could manifest the prayer with such prowess as this.\n\n`I am a child of the Sun.`\n*`Know my name!`" }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "```diff\n- \"𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓐𝓪𝔃𝓴𝓾𝓮, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓻.\"```\n\nIts creator, Aazkue.\n\nThe Guardian of the First Floor, crippled by the damage he had done to himself in his bestial state, could not rise to his feet. To even move from where he kneeled would be impossible. And yet, even without knowing why, he would continue to act freely. Of his own accord.* Without the need for a divine oath to drive him, without a second voice in his head commanding him — in this moment, he, Aazkue, himself, would choose to Guard this greattower. For what good is a Guardian, if he cannot even do this much?\n\n*He slammed his hand with great ferocity into the ground before him, and spoke again—\n\n```diff\n- ☀ \"𝑶𝑬𝒁𝑼𝑬𝑲.\" ☀ -```\n_ _\n\n__`The Sun that Destroys; Solar Imbuement.`__\nA prayer that grants one limited control over the chaotic flame of `Disparity.`* It is an all-engulfing fire that can burn down even the greatest of foes, and yet it is still Limited, For it cannot exist without a proper vessel to imbue. Such is the nature of all elements of the Arue Arcana — there cannot be the `Disparity` Of an all-burning flame without the `Unity` Of an encompassing, uniting vessel. As he had no weapon to imbue, the spell would be ineffectual, lest he imbue his own body, and yet...\n\nThere was, indeed, something else here, that he could imbue.\n*The very ground before him.\n\nGeysers of intense, preternatural, crimson-red flames erupted in the wake of the kneeling Guardian, extending vertically to upwards distances of five meters.* Each pillar of flame was roughly A meter and a half in diameter, each distanced from one-another in random intervals between two and eight meters. The effective range of the spell covered the entirety of the path and environment about the knelt Guardian, transforming the entire proximity of the great-tower into a chaotic grounds of destruction. The flames were all-burning and tremendously destructive in nature; there would be no option but to dodge and weave about their spontaneously-emerging forms.\n\nThe medicine was effective.\nAnd yet, it would not give them the peaceful ending they desired." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "```fix\n\"I ain't gonna die anytime soon, justa bit winded is all.```\n\nKuouo snatched the flask out of the air, opening the top and taking a huge swig — HGRK!! He clenched his throat, holding the burning liquid in the back of his mouth before forcefully swallowing the stuff. He loved alcohol, but not to This Extent. It was a little intense.\n\n```fix\n\"Jesus fuckin' christ dude, this is worse than m... Oon... Shine...\"```\n\nKuouo stared at the beheamoth, sitting still with his hand still affixed to the tower. His pupils shook in wait; for the first time in this battle, everything around them was quiet, as if the universe was too, waiting in deafening suspense.\n\nThen finally, he moved in a manner without the internal strife that burdened his mind and body for centuries.\n\nA wave of relief washed over Kuouo, a tired smile grew on his face as the parasitic roots on their body began to recede. The Root-Crown could finally hear again, he could See Again, he was no longer the silenced beast as he could finally...\n\nSpeak once more." } ]	615	3,199
566.666667	2022-05-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "As the roots that had engulfed the beast began to disappear, well it was not a beast anymore, he let out a sigh of relief and smiled.\n```diff\n- \"Finally, im fuckin' knackered.\" -\n```\nThen hellfire burst from the very earth itself.\nHe slid backwards, scooping up the metallic arm from the ground and shoving it into his belt loop.\n```diff\n- \"Can't catch a fuckin' break can i, i guess we ain' got no choice though.\"-\n```\nWith a long exasperated groan he straightened his posture, and cracked his joints, and starting to move forward at a medium pace, dodging the various pillars of fire and nearing the tower once more. He kept his remaining hand upon the hilt of the sword he had still yet to draw but did not make any immediate action, they could at least Try A diplomatic approach, as much as the citizens of the VEKTET seemed to resort to violence, a peaceful solution was preferable." }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "The onset of the inferno before him, crimson in color, and identical to the sanguine hue of his own eyes — it was a sight long-familiar with the Guardian of the First Floor. A horrific blaze that extended beyond his control, set solely to Incinerate All that which lied before him. His hand recoiled as the heat flickered horrifically about his body, its terrible, scalding nature reminiscent of the dying star of his homeworld... Right. The ability that he was granted, that he was born with, and that he honed to protect those dearest to him — it Frightened him. Ever since he set his eyes upon the surface — the land beyond their palaces of the undisturbed depths — the form of the red sun over a lost paradise left its deep scar within his very soul. For there is nothing quite as horrifying as the concept as Absolute disparity, Burning away all those who are closest to you.\n\n`Lord, mentor, teacher, guardian... No. Mother, Eikokue. How ever could she muster the bravery to step foot upon that damned land of a smoldering sky?`\n\nThe Guardian took a deep breath in, his extended fingertips upon the ground clasping tight, receding from the stony form of the path before him. The chaotic, all-burning flames begin to die down, yet the prevalent embers of their persisting form remained scattered across the surrounding region about himself. He set his sights on the two intruders, who had delicately managed to evade his attack of transcendent fury, and clenched his teeth.\n\n`Was it her ability?`\n`Her position?`\n`Her prowess?`\n`Her status, as hero...?`\n_ _\n\n`No...`\n`There was nothing to give her bravery.`\n`She wasn't born with it, and she wasn't gifted it.`\n`She made bravery for herself,`\n`and continued marching forth, ever with a smile.`\n\n—Right. This was no time for hesitation!\n\n```diff\n- \"𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭'𝓼 𝓐𝓻𝓴 𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮.\"```\n\nHe spoke, without intent for them even to understand, and opened his palm wide, yelling:\n\n```diff\n- \"𝓔𝔃𝓮𝓻𝓸, 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓯—...\"```\n\n...What was that?\n_ _\n\n```fix\n\"Let's talk.\"```\n\n_ _\n\nAn atmosphere of confusion manifested about the knelt Guardian, his eyes opened wide in shock as he heard the words extended toward him. `He would, speak, with, huh... Me?`\n\nHis sentence was interrupted, and so too was the manifestation of the item titled 'Ezero'. In the moment that he spoke its name, however, a grisly, destructive aura had begun to manifest centimeters ahead of his palm, as if he were about to summon a weapon of tremendous nature. Yet his shock would overtake such a process; he halted in his words, and instead stared solely upon the form of the two intruders, his mouth slightly ajar.\n\n`...This one speaks the language of the Ark...???`\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹...\"```\n\nAazkue lowered his hand, his presence of duty-born hostility departing.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒?\"```" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo clenched his teeth, a cold shiver running down his spine as he Felt The destructive aura of '𝓔𝔃𝓮𝓻𝓸' beginning to manifest. His leg pulsed with burning, aching pains; even with the fractures set and the gulp of alcohol slightly taking effect, his manner of whisking about the battlefield so suddenly and harshly even with his good leg irritated his right greatly. Despite being able to have navigated the field with nimbleness, being down a leg and all of his mana greatly reduced his true mobility — He Knew That he couldn't survive a battle against the Root-Crown, that of which displayed a higher amount of stamina and magical prowress Still After the first act of the battle.\n\nThe bandit began to brace himself for the oncoming attack, his free-flowing body tensing up before...\n\nShock displayed itself in the Root-Crown's eyes, Aazkue stopping the manifestation of his tremendous weapon in hesitation mostly borne from confusion.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹... 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒?\"```\n\nThe pressure weighing down on Kuo's body released itself once more, the bandit relieved to hear the man speak towards him in an elegant tone soothed with a natural gentleness. The bandit let his guard down to a degree, dropping his shoulders and looking up into Aazkue's eyes.\n\n```fix\n\"Y... Yeah man. At the very least let's take a break...```\n\nThe bandit took in a couple seconds of silence, his chest quickly rising up and down before he finally caught his breath and composed himself. Infernium, being called from within Kuo's SOUL, is magnetized back beside Kuo's hip. For the time being, Plan C was a failure... A good one, depending on how things turn out from here. If things were to get worse, the only option was to escape.\n\n```fix\n\"So, ya just woke up, huh? How d'ya feel? Other than, well, yer legs being torn up... Guess, ya gotta little too excited protecting the tower there. I wouldn't worry too much, Zocheiz in town's a pretty good doctor...\"```\n\nThe hero spoke with an easy-going, casual tone, hoping to ease the guardian of the first floor, make him realize that he was finally, truly awake. Kuo crashed onto his bottom, now feeling the lasting effects of adrenaline's toll.\n\n```fix\n\"Y'know he's one of the guys that helped make that cure.\"```" } ]	588	1,700
1,108.333333	2022-05-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He was preparing for whatever was to come his way, through laboured breaths, at that moment he wished he had been a bit smarter and turned the fuck around, but it was too late now.\nShivers began to run down his spine as AAZKUE began to manifest his weapon, even someone to who magic eschewed such as Cumhall the power that filled the air in that very moment was palpable, the air was thick, like a viscous gas filled the air and threatened to clog up his air filters.\nAnd then all at once it was gone, the pressure on his chest released, he only realised that he had been holding his breath when he finally exhaled.\n```diff\n- \"Y-Yeah, we're not fuckin' barbarians\"-\n```\nHis body relaxed but his mind was still on edge, he took a moment to get his breathing in order, hed almost begun to think his air filters Were Blocked.\n```diff\n- \"We're not here kill you guys.. Despite what it looks like\" -\n```\nHe glanced over his shoulder at the carnage from the previous battles.\nThen he motioned to the bandit.\n```diff\n- \"Well i don't speak for him but if he WAS here to kill you guys i think i'd have noticed\" -\n```\nHe chuckled." }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "The air, forced into a state of stillness and purity by the sheer dominating presence that was the crimson manifestation of the `Sun of Purity` in the wake of Aazkue's presence, harbored such an atmosphere so to magnify both the almost divine presence of the Solar Guardian and the suspense that came with his pause in pondering. His eyes of a genuine, sharp crimson-red held close to their figures, and so the crippled Guardian stared, his mouth held slightly open as he took in their words. A long pause, a close of his eyes, and a most confused expression upon his face, Aazkue lifted his slightly-charred right hand to his brow, clasping the bridge of his nose.\n\n ```diff\n- \"𝐵𝓎 𝐸𝒾𝓀𝑜𝓀𝓊𝑒'𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒...\"```\n\nAazkue spoke with sigh, his weakly opened eyes peering at the road before him. He pressed firmly his left palm against the ground, shifting his posture that lacked strength in his legs so to bring himself into a slightly-more-upright position, and raised his briefly bowed head again to see the two... Guests, For lack of the perhaps more accurate word Intruder. \n\nThere was truly much to take in here. Far, far too many things for him to mentally digest within a comfortable moment. He hadn't the slightest explanation for their — or, heavens, even His Presence here, at the foot of the Ascent — and neither their nature nor their origins within the Ark. Though the quantity and diversity of peoples upon the day of its boarding was tremendous, Aazkue had mostly familiarized himself with the majority of its inhabitants... These sort of folk he had never once met before. And yet, they spoke the language of its distinct culture; an irreplicable tongue the likes of which no intruder could so easily learn. Still further, they spoke of individuals named in his local tongue — so-called residents of the First Floor he was distinguished with the honor of guarding — which he had never even Heard of Before.\n_ _\n\n`...How is this, any of this, possible...?`\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉, 𝓅𝓇𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃, 𝓉𝑜 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒...?\"```\n\nHe lifted his right hand up and along his face, his fingers sifting strands of his long, black hair to the sides, his brow furrowed slightly as he questioned. His nature was most imposing but not threatening — formidable, to be sure, yet not quite as frightening as that of raw aggression — as he glared, concerned, and quite honestly almost lacking in belief of the two's words.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒜 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒹...\"\n- \"...𝒶 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝑒...\"\n- \"...𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔,\"\n\n- \"𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓌𝓃... 𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇?\"\n- \"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝓈𝑜... 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝓎, 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓇. 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓁 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂...? 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝑜𝒻?\"\n- \"𝒜𝓃𝒹... 𝒯𝓋𝑜𝓀𝓉𝑒𝒾'𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝓈, 𝓃𝑜... 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎...\"\n\n\n\n\n\n- \"...𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉, 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝒸𝓎𝒸𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝑜𝓃, 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃?\"```\n\nAh, that was right.\nThere was one thing that would make many, many things make sense.\nIt was something that Aazkue, himself, would never want to believe, but...\n...Had he been... Severed, in some way, from consciousness?\nFor how long?\nNo, more worrisome...\n\n*What had happened to the First Floor in the time of his absence?\n_ _\n\nPanic began to set into the visage of the recently-awoken Guardian of the First Floor, his brilliant eyes of crimson red opening wide with the expression of shock and horror. He stared down at his unfurled palm before him, blinking, slowly, in disbelief, before staring up toward the fake sky hued green above, his teeth clenched tight as he mentally prepared himself for the worst. His damaged lower body practically creaked as he forced what muscular structure he had left to Move,* Shifting his herculean body ever-so-slightly upwards, as he struggled to again make use of his legs. Aazkue was, if nothing else, stubborn and determined to a fault; even if it was Physically impossible For any other man to, in this condition, walk, he would Make it possible.\n\n\n...Even still, he can only manage a clumsy stumble upwards, his towering height of four-meters-tall briefly revealed, as he began to slowly fall forwards, hardly managing to catch himself before taking two sluggish steps that continued forwards.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝑜𝓁 — 𝐼 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒...!\"```\n\nHe pressed his hand close to his chest and heart, his pain incapable of being hidden by his exterior show of fortified strength and courage. Nobility and honor flowed through his veins as did blood and water, yet he was, still, a weak being construed of no more than flesh and bones. Aazkue's injuries were paramount, and he could not ignore them for long.\n\nThe Guardian again collapses to his knees, his hands colliding first with the stone, and then his chest. He lifted his head forward, to see the two intruders before him, and he squinted his sightlines, as if in both deep despair and incredulity toward the two. Furling his right hand into a fist, he bore his teeth, and yelled out:\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝔀𝓸...!\"\n- \"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!\"\n- \"𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝓉𝑜𝑜, 𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝓋𝑜𝓀𝓉𝑒𝒾'𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝑔𝒾𝑜𝓃? 𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝑜𝓉?!\"\n\n- \"𝓐𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓮!\"```" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo, finally able to settle down from the battle, takes a sharp breath of the purified air, dragging his left knee slightly upward and leaning forward forward with a relaxed posture. Kuo slid the flask given to him by his accomplace out of his inventory, taking another swig of the alcohol. He did so with caution, seeking to further numb the pain in his fractured leg, but not inhibit his senses. The bandit forced it down his throat, hanging his head down for a moment before peering up to see Aazkue process the information around him. The cues on the guardian's face whispered his inner-thoughts, although Aazkue stayed silent at this moment, the bandit could see the cues of disbelief and confusion in the Root-Crown's weakly held eyes before he spoke once more.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉, 𝓅𝓇𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃, 𝓉𝑜 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒...?\"```\n\nThe guardian, now taking a more direct approach to gathering the answers clouding his mind, shot a myriad of questions towards the two intruders with a stern quality built within his aura. The bandit scratched his head, his explanation earlier left Aazkue with more questions than answers. Perhaps it was best to start from the top.\n\n```fix\n\"We'll all get t' that inna sec. First off, my name's Kuouo and this is, well, I don't really know this dude's name but, in any case, I'm the guy who gave ya a shot in the le- Hey! Are ya listeni—\"```\n\nThe bandit stopped his words short, watching panic click in real-time as it rushed through Aazkue's mind. Kuo clenched his teeth, a gut feeling that the guardian was about to do something hasty. Indeed, his caprine ears could hear the sickening struggle of Aazkue's lower-half Cricking And further mangling his injury. The bandit stared in awe, suspended in disbelief as the Root-Crown pulled himself off the ground. He couldn't even fathom diverting any of his body weight to his right leg, much less as a four-meter being with a frightening body weight. Instinct pounded through Kuo's body, the bandit scrambling to crawl backwards as the injured guardian managed to barely advance himself two steps forward before falling to his knees. With his current condition, it's safe to say that Kuouo felt a pang of dread, sweat and shallow breaths quietly peered out of the bandit before Aazkue began another onslaught of questions, this time with a more demanding tone.\n\nFuck it, formatting embed fail." } ]	667	3,325
375	2022-05-28	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "```fix\n\"Exile's Watch is kind of a shabby town if I'm bein' honest. Dunno how much it differed then compared t' now. Only person I've met so far with an abundance of wealthiness was Vaazva, and even then... Well, nevermind. Fact is, ye might be in for a shock.\"```\n\nIt was odd to the bandit, surely Aazkue had displayed signs of having been non-conscious throughout the duration of his branding with its consequences shining through the disbelief broadcasted in his eye. It brought the question as to what Kovrot intended to do with Kuouo had she and Aatkei managed to subdue and bring him to the Root-Crown. The bandit distinctly remembered her wanting to Warn The guardian, but after enduring Aazkue's feral state under the root, he concluded it must've been Impossible. As it turned out, perhaps it was the best for the ragged ex-highwayman to settle the pair's internal turmoil... Kovrot would've probably gotten all three of them killed.\n\nKuo painfully dragged himself over to Aazkue, letting his right leg fall limp and his left do all the lifting. His demeanor was all but threatening, though one could tell from a simple glance that he was irked, perhaps even more bothered by the limping slugishness that encumbered his movement than the pain.\n\n```fix\n\". . . So ya want me t' bring the doctor, huh? I can do that, but it might be a while - Hell, I'd bring this 'Vaarektak' too if I ever met 'im, but this is the first time I ever heard the dude's name.\"```\n\nKuouo extended his left paw out in front of Aazkue, holding it open and lightly lifting the guardian's chin so their gazes could meet. If the guardian unlocked his eyes from the ground, he'd meet the goat's confident, albeit almost cocky, smile.\n\n```fix\n\"Well whatever-th'-case, I'll make my way down to the doctor aight? Probably get myself fixed up nicely and get me a feast t' dine on cuz I'm fuckin' starvin'... But after that, I promise I'll bring the doc up here t' clear things up - He could prolly do it a lot better than I can, daheh!... I'd say it'd take a while for me t' limp all the way over there, but I've got just the idea-\"```\n\nKuouo turned, facing away from Aazkue before hopping on one leg over to Cumhall. He'd look at the mercenary with a mischevious smile, grabbing him by each arm and swiveling him around 180 degrees before lunging himself up onto his new saddle - Cumhall's shoulders.\n\n```fix\n\"Giddy-up! Let's make our way t' the doctor's and quick! — I ain't that heavy, am I?\"```" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "```diff\n\"Yeah.\"\n```\nHe let Kuouo do the talking, after all it wasn't like he had anything to add to the conversation, having spent less than 2 minutes within the confines of Exiles Watch he hadn't exactly made an effort to become aquainted with the denizens or the general state of affairs.\nHe took the time to stretch his muscles, and spit out more of the dark serum, though he did still pay attention, what the bandit said was news to him aswell.\n\nWhen Kuouo grabbed his arms he had expected him to perhaps put an arm around Cumhall's shoulder and use him as a crutch.\n```diff\n- \"Hey wh-\" -\n```\nTaken unawares he didn't put up too much of a fight, just a disgruntled scoff.\n```diff\n- \"Fine, but you're gonna have t' show the way, and give me that back, my ribs are starting to hurt.\" -\n```\nHe tool back his hip flask, taking a good swig and coughing, spitting out more serum and beginning the trek into \n```diff\n- \"It's uh, well call me Cumhall, it'sa uh conmbu..\" -\n```\nHis voice trailed off into a mumble and the last few words were untinelligable.\n```diff\n- \"It's the best i gotta offer\" -\n```\nHe took another swig to avoid having to speak more." }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "```diff\n- \"...𝐹𝒾𝓃𝑒. ...𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑒.\"```\n\nThe Guardian spoke with a deep breath, shaking his head slightly as Kuouo approached. His mentioning that he had no idea who Vaarektaak — one of the most prominent Knights of Sol, and a close ally to Aazkue, himself — was, only further permeated his soul with the somberness and fear of change; so many things within the First Floor had been changed, and he still hadn't an idea what all had been Lost, entirely. The Exile's Watch, a town lacking in wealth and named after Exiles, Had overtaken the beautiful to-be city that he and his brother had planned for decades upon end, fighting with every ounce of might in their body to establish the foundations upon which it was to be built. And, yet, that city, in the hundreds of years that he had lost consciousness, Had not been completed? Where, oh where, did all his efforts disappear to?\n\nHe furled his hands tightly, their fingertips whitened further by the pressure withwhich he pushed them against the ground. Crippled, powerless, and without a single fragment of knowledge of the state-of-affairs of his very own Floor, Aazkue could not help but sorrow and grovel over his own pathetic state, as further pathetic as that may make him. He could only close his eyes and bite his tongue as the two departed, powerless even to investigate by himself.\n\n```diff\n- \"...𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹.\"```\n\nAazkue spoke softly as they began their departure, his eyes of crimson weakly opening, as he stared forward at the long road before himself. Yes... Perhaps, a moment was what he needed. A moment to wait. And a moment to process.\n\nHe could not, in this state of mind, make a clear judgment." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "`...`\n\n```fix\nAs the two make departure in return toward the Exile's Watch, they cannot shake the feeling that they are being watched.\nThere is no tangible presence nor any particular reason to suggest such, yet their instincts would be put on edge by the strange sense of proximity to closely-watching eyes...```\n\nTheir journey would not nonetheless not be interrupted, and the way to would not be far. Still... The feeling that they were being watched was unshakably discomforting. They ought to keep their senses keen..." } ]	379	1,500
393.333333	2022-05-29	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Though, yes, the cat did in fact head to the plaza, as they exit out into the remainder of the floor, a brilliant display of flashing red and orange colors burns through the sky, temporarily blinding the cat and causing an overload in her automatons sensors, who start to stumble about the place unceremoniously as a few individual bits are flipped in their memory as the Guardian AAZKUE Is awakened — though, they don't know that yet. \n\nAs the furious lights cease, so too do the constructs' erratic behavior. \n\n\"What, the hell was that...\" The cat asks, mirroring a mental question posed to her by that voice in the back of her head. There's only one way to find out, really...\n\nAnd so, the cat sets out towards The Ascent once more, disregarding any Vaazva Or Silver Knight, instead choosing the more prominent matter as cats often do, taking a roundabout way to get there should the entrance be heavily fortified. With a flash of power like that, one can't be too confident. The cat concludes that Stealth Might be the better option to get a closeup.\n\nOf course, by the time that she would get there, the duo of the goat & Cumhall would very likely be gone due to the tabaxi's wariness about approaching too quick and straightforward, but... Who knows what would await her?" }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "There is only one path unto the Greattower that is the Ascent to the Second Rise, being that it is elevated on a hill which cannot be accessed through any other means beside the path upon which Tabby had some-time ago treaded — where her combat with the Eclipse Knight Otaaraa took place, and the same, bridge-like path which was flanked on either side by what appeared to be temporary housing units. \n\nThe sight was anything but the same from what it was the last time around, however. The once relatively well maintained road of stone that travelled towards the tower overgrown with the empyrean, blue root now was marred with scattered, chaotic char-marks, as if a great, obliterative flame had erupted across its surface. Embers of a slightly reddened hue still remained in ignition across the damaged pathway toward the Ascent to the Second Rise, burning for far longer than what would naturally be possible. \n\nThe origins of such flames would be no mystery; there was an abundant, dominating magical presence that emanated opposite the beginning of the path and at the base of the tower, where, still shining brilliantly, was the apparition of a crimson-red light, engulfing the body of a man of most gargantuan stature, knelt, yet still immensely tall, for his standing-height would be a monstrous Four meters. Scars of a recent battle covered his legs, and his long, slightly messied black hair descended far beyond his brow, obscuring his eyes as he remained with his head bowed slightly forward.\n_ _\n\nTabby had not been noticed yet, and thus could likely continue further — however, merely being within the remote proximity of his still-burning, heatless false-flame of `Disparity` Would no doubt cause him to grow aware of her presence. To progress around him and further beyond toward the Ascent without a direct confrontation would likely be impossible, and even then, to Enter The great-tower was still further hindered by the presence of the azure-hued root which overgrew its sole entryway." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Hooly...\" The cat whispers aloud, gazing upon the absolute carnage that had occurred within the timespan of her last presence on this road.\n\nThe flames, burning for far longer than they should be send alarm bells ringing deep into Tabby's psyche, knowing full well that while Not Entirely impossible, it Is Incredibly unnatural. For somebody who's made their fair share of fire, there's something definitely off.\n\nHer ears twitch and her whiskers tingle ever so slightly upon seeing the form of AAZKUE, detecting the innate magical prowess he wielded so easily through her heightened state of alertness, sensing the pure power he gives off in waves. And there's the lighter.. \n\nKnowing full well that she could only be obscured for a little while longer, she goes as far as she can, exiting out onto the main road at the last second, still on the shoulders of her Defender and watched from behind by her Guardian, should something jump out like Otaaraa did last time.\n\nShe quietly approaches the bowed man from as much of an angle as could be provided, weapons all stashed away; although strong, perhaps a conflict could be avoided. After all, the artificer still finds herself injured and unable to reliably move on her own. Depending on her automatons to do the work for her is still quite disadvantageous to her wellbeing. No.. If he wanted to attack, surely he would have done it by now... Right? Only one way to find out.\n\n_ _\nThe cat approaches and pulls out an apple from her Defender's chest-area — you never know when a doctor might approach, after all — and palms it for a second as her Defender leans down to allow her the space to hold it out the man who definitely did not just wreak havoc on this road a few short minutes ago. \"Here.\" Is the only word she speaks, aware she's probably going to get ass-blasted the second he looks up and sees her.\n\nWorth a shot, though.\n\nIf bitten into, the apple would most certainly have a slightly metallic taste to it, due to it being stored alongside a bunch of weapons... The Defender's chest-hatch quickly closes upon retrieval of the fruit." } ]	427	1,180
1,155	2022-06-01	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\".. Maybe that saying hasn't ever been said in here, then..\" The cat nods, listening intently to his explanation of magic; eyes still glittering with excitement at every word he utters.\n\n\"The Prayers of Sol. ..\" She says airily, leaning up from atop her high post on the Defender's back, recalling the very little information she had retained about prayers & suns during her time in the first floor. \"Like. .. Prayers of the Eclipse... Huh...\" She seems to get lost in thought for a moment, recalling the fonts of information she had received during the time in the Vektet.\n\n\". .. I've heard about the Fifth Prayer of the Eclipse... Somebody in the Exile's Watch said that name to me.. I wanted to learn more about the teachings in here..\"\n\nShe looks back down unto the powerful man — though, not looking too far down due to his massive stature and smiles a bit.\n\nSuns.\n\nSun of Purity... Sun of Destruction... Which means, what exactly...\n\nAs Aazkue speaks about purity, something clicks — If Ukue can master purity, surely Aazkue is... The Sun of Destruction, right? If only I'd spent more time reading... She curses herself internally at her thoughtlessness and unusual behavior in the pursuit of Gaige. Stupid, stupid cat...\n\n\"Eternity...\" She repeats, looking up at the Ascent ahead of her. \". .. So, there's no going up, huh.\" She asks, curiously. \"'Cause... I'm not from here, and...\" This is likely not to end well should I continue talking..\n\n\". .. Are you alright?\" The artificer inquires quietly, switching the subject from her entrance to the Vektet. \"You look a bit lost.. Worried..\" Despite her poor personal Charisma, Tabby is still Very Perceptive to what's around her." }, { "author": "timiette", "message": "Not as long as my other posts but i did try to pad it out" }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "The guardian's crimson eyes deviated throughout the scene of the battlefield before him, his eyes weakly scanning the remnants of what had been lost in combat only just recently, and the remnants from a past much, much more distant. Behind him, and about the foot of the Ascent, there lied the hollowed suits of armor and abandoned weaponry — both a faint, tarnished brass hue in appearance — once belonging to warriors much like himself, and each torn apart by an entity with beast-like ferocity, whose origin, to Aazkue, perhaps should have immediately been made known, yet still remained a mystery within his callow mind. Perhaps it was due to his innocence, or perhaps it was due to his refusal to come to terms with such grim facts, but either the way that Aazkue looked at it, he simply could not come to an understanding of the fates of those who battled on these very grounds, so many years ago.\n\n`The armor was quite akin to the Knights of Sol... But who were they felled by?`\n\nAazkue, who had let his mind wander some, gave a slight sigh of dismissal towards his former statement, instead bringing his eyes and attention front-and-center, to focus upon the outsider directly before him. No good could come from overthinking these matters... There were other things more pressing to his attention, anyhow. Such as the nature of the Exile's Watch.\n_ _\n\nUneasily adjusting himself in his knelt position, incapable of bringing himself into a fully-risen stance for complete lack of power in the lower half of his legs, the guardian lifted his head to meet eyes with the outsider. Her nature was that of curiosity — a curiosity that perhaps was born of her nescience to the adversity that came with the apprehension and use of the Prayers of Disparity — yet a wholehearted curiosity nonetheless, and one that he could wholly humor. The guardian partially closed his eyes, and took in a short breath, expanding, and perhaps explaining that which the outsider may not have known about the Prayers of Sol. It was a dangerous subject, to be sure, and one that he could not leave someone who sought to dig deeper into its vast and intimidating nature to continue unawares.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒫𝓇𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝑜𝓁, 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝒾𝓃 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓌𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎.\"\n- \"𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓊𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑒𝒹.\"\n- \"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒... 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎, 𝒾𝓃𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑒.\"```\n_ _\n\nIt was an unpleasant experience, to be sure. One that Aazkue, the creator of each of the two prayers, himself, was displeased with. Even now, he maintained the false flame of `Quetaa Ezuek,` Its bond-burning nature persisting about his fihure. He could speak these words from first-hand experience. In this moment, however, he continued to maintain the prayer, for fear of that Sleep Again overtaking his mind...\n\nTabby might further catch ear of a deeper intricacy within Aazkue's words, and one that could only come with some logical inference, for the Guardian, himself, did not intend to make such a fact known — he stated that there were Two Refined Prayers of Sol, and yet, upon the tablet that she briefly laid eyes on, there were described Four Prayers of Sol. Such a discrepancy would further make clear the sheer distance between Aazkue's understanding of the present, and actual state-of-affairs within the Ark — the two, latter prayers of Unity had only come to be after he was branded, and as such, he had never heard of either of their existences.\n_ _\n\nWith such matters in mind, his following confusion when she mentioned the \"Prayers of the eclipse\" Would be most understandable. The Prayers of Sol's Disparity preceded the Prayers of Sol's Unity, and the Prayers of Sol's Unity far preceded the Prayers of the Eclipse. He raised a brow at their mentioning, and so questioned:\n\n```diff\n- \"...𝒫𝓇𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝒸𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈𝑒?\"\n- \"𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝓇𝓊𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓎𝑒𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒿𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐿𝓊𝓃𝒶, 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎...?\"\n \n- \"𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉... 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼...\"```\n\n...He sighed, and temporarily cast away the thought. That was, again, something he would have to ponder over, later...\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁.\"\n- \"𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝓊𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓈𝑒...\"\n- \"...𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝐹𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓇.\"```\n\nThere was doubt in his tone, and much confusion. As he denied her further trespass upon the grounds that surrounded the great-tower that was the Ascent to the Second Floor, he sifted his fingertips through his overgrown, black hair, the blunt of his palm pressing against his brow as he pondered. He still had much to re-discover and determine, before he made any judgments on how he would go about protecting the Ascent — if he Were To continue protecting it, that was... Still. In this moment, here and now, he could not let her continue further.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"𝐼...\"```\n\nAazkue breathed the slightest of responses, withholding a full statement, so to compose himself before he continued...\n\n```diff\n- \"𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒶𝓂.\"\n\n- \"𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒... 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝐸𝓍𝒾𝓁𝑒'𝓈 𝒲𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽, 𝓌𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹-𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹, 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝓊𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝒶𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓈𝓈-𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝑜𝓁, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈-𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓁𝓊𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇...\"\n\n- \"...𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒰𝓀𝓊𝑒, 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇.\"```" } ]	403	3,465
640.2	2022-06-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Two in number...\" The cat replies with a questioning tone, mulling it over in her head.\n\n\". .. Are you sure there's Just Two...?\" She tilts her head at the tail-end of the question. \".. There's another tower on this floor, and it has some kind of scripture at its peak detailing Four Prayers.\" She holds up her fingers and counts out what she can remember, anglicizing the words and butchering them mightily; a byproduct of not being in her native tongues.\n\n\"Ozwek, destruction...\" One finger, the cat clears her throat for the next name, having heard it when facing the Silver Knight. \"Quetaa Ezuek, purity..\" Two.. \"Vee Ezuek, protection, and..\" Three... \"Co-ckkckve Ezuek.\" The artificer stumbles and trips over her words trying to pronounce such a tongue-twister of a name, taking a deep breath. \"Reversion.\" Four.\n\n\"Two different styles of prayer, yes... Disparity, which... You already know about, and the prayers of Unity, which...\" She raises an eyebrow, \"You... Don't know about.\" She nods her head, confirming her thoughts on the matter.\n\n\"Right, well... In that case, I won't proceed further until you're caught up to speed, and I respect your wishes...\" Best not to make enemies of the guy who's wielding nuclear sun power, even if it delays the return to Ursa..\n\nShe bows her head and listens carefully. \"The Knights of Sol... The...\" She trails off, quietly whispering the word \"Splintered...\" Under her breath, before looking back to the distraught man.\n\n\". . . Wait...\"\n\n\"The scripture I read mentioned your brother, I... Think?\" She speaks, unsure of what she's really saying. \"I. .. Don't remember the exact words, though... I didn't read it very thoroughly before heading off.\" Stupid idea to not, huh...\n\n_ _\nShe remembers something about the Splintered Knights, and a flash of recognition crawls across her face. It was something that One of them had said, as Keen Mind Works its magic.\n\n\". .. Remember your Oaths, and do not hesitate to serve the Taae Cheit Ezer, as Guardians...\" She repeats aloud for him to hear. \n\n' ... What's the Taae Cheit Ezer..\" She wonders verbally in a hushed tone, leaning back and trying to recall any information she might have already gathered." }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "```diff\n- \"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒶𝓎, 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓌𝑜?\"```\n\nThe guardian questioned with some confusion at her mentioning of not Two, But Four Prayers of Sol. Pausing in brief, the guardian again raised his brow, and revealed just how little he knew of the state of the Ark Following his centuries-long sleep. He would remain silent in thought following the statement, attempting for quite some time to wrap his head about the concept — Was he not the first to actually coordinate the beliefs of the Order of the Knights of Sol into a manifest prayer? Certainly, many of its members had manifested the raw, miraculous mana of Sol on many occasions, and had been shown to be capable of weaving such tremendous energy in demonstrations of power vaguely reminiscent of spells... Yet none had actually created something so refined and so attuned with the nature of the Sun that it could rightfully be called a 'prayer'.\n\nThe thought would linger in his mind for some time, and, following these whirling thoughts, he would come to a simple conclusion.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"𝑅𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉...\n- \"...𝐼𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝒷𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒.\"```\n\nHe spoke, trailing off with a sigh. Remorse lingered within the tone of his words, and he briefly shifted his gaze up, toward the false-green sky above.\n\n...\n\nHumoring her further questions, he would remain silent up until the point she quoted the sole words that the Knights of Sol had spoken to her. He knew not of who she quoted, and yet those words that she clearly, herself, did not contrive, would resonate with a slight familiarity in his mind. A worrying familiarity, and one that brought an inexplicable sense of Anxiety. As if he had forgotten something critically important to the very foundation of his character...\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒪𝓊𝓇 𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒯𝒶𝒶𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓉 𝐸𝓏𝑒𝓇—\"```\n\nHe spoke, breaking his hesitation with a response to her question,\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝓇𝓊𝑒—𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝐸𝓏𝑒𝓇—𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝑜𝓂 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝓇𝓀 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓎.\"\n- \"𝐻𝑒 𝒾𝓈... 𝑔𝑜𝒹𝓀𝒾𝓃. 𝒪𝓊𝓇 𝓋𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓊𝓈 𝑔𝓊𝒾𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓊𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓉𝒽.\"```\n_ _\n\nAazkue briefly reminisced upon the first day that he met the Ezer. In the moment that he entered his divine presence, he felt a sensation akin to the first day that he stepped foot on the dreadful surface, albeit much more pure, and Living In nature. It was as if he stepped into the influence of an astral body, one that weighed heavily on the very essence of his soul, itself. Yet still under the tutelage of the Hero of the Sun during that time, he otherwise likely could not have contained the sheer fear imparted by such a sensation if she — Eikokue — was not there to grant him strength.\n\nThe guardian let a breath slip from between his lips as he concluded the brief description of the Ezer, speaking with a weighty tone of reverence on the subject. He took a deep breath in following the words of explanation, and again paused, holding his tongue further from any succeeding statements to follow such hallowed words." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "As Kuouo and Cumhall approach the scene where they once made battle, they are greeted with not only the sight of Aazkue, but so too yet another outsider, the same as the two themselves. Tabby Browncoat, the artificer, currently in conversation with the imposing figure of the guardian — whose aura of crimson-red still faintly flickered at his outline with a dominant ferocity.\n\nAs they and the physician approach, closer and closer, coming to the realization that they are not the only one who has made contact with the now-awakened guardian, they will soon come to yet another realization—\n\nThere's someone on their tail, and fast in approach..." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "*`\"YOU ROTTEN MOTHERFUCKER!\"`\n\nGritting his teeth harshly, and running in full-sprint behind Kuouo, Cumhall, and Zocheiz, was Aatkei,* Only recently emerging into their sightlines as he charged with a furious ferocity forwards — towards the tremendous figure of the knelt guardian. Within his eyes and visage were the flagrant expressions of a multitude of emotions: sheer, seething Wrath, A faint sense of sorrow, and even what was vaguely reminiscent of horror. Clutching tight in his right hand a sharpened piece of metal debris — lacking of his dagger, for he parted ways with it on the path as he escorted Kuouo to the Exile's Watch — he continued to progress forth in a hasty and reckless gait, only sparing the briefest of moments to shoot a glare toward the group who was, too, approaching the one he identified in a heartbeat as Aazkue. \n\nHe hadn't the rationality to spare to come up with an explanation as to why They, the outsiders, Were here, and he further didn't even Care. All his troubled mind could focus on, in this moment, was the pent-up anger that overflowed throughout his veins, and the unconscious expectation of catharsis that would come with the fulfillment of his sole goal here:\n\n*`I'll fucking kill you.`\n\nAn expression that brinked on the definition of deranged manifested itself on Aatkei's face, as he stared with dead-set intent on the crippled guardian. He wielded the sharpened piece of debris in his right hand with naught but that intent — To take Aazkue's life.* There was a reason, yet no rhyme behind the thought, his feet and hands guided by nothing but the virulent ferocity of hatred — a hatred long-imbedded within his very soul.\n_ _\n\nEvery day he's suffered here,\nEvery person he's lost here,\nAnd his constant state of tribulation here,\n\n`\"𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘽𝙀𝘿𝘼𝙈𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙁𝘼𝙐𝙇𝙏, 𝙄𝙎𝙉'𝙏 𝙄𝙏?!\"`\n\n`That's right...! It's true!`\n`That's what Father said—`\n*`If it weren't for fucking you...!`\n\nHe was some distance from fully overtaking the group, yet at his pace, he would swiftly do so, if not intercepted. He progressed rapidly toward Aazkue — who, in his state of quietness, was still unbeknownst even to Aatkei's presence." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "She nods her head quietly, listening close to the wisdom that this venerable guardian seemingly imparted upon her. \"Godkin...\" She repeats mindlessly, enthralled by what this powerful, powerful man was telling her..\n\n_* \"YOU ROTTEN MOTHERFUCKER!\"** _\n\nThe words ring out into the open air, multiple intruders appearing on their friendly conversation.\n\nNoticing the gleaming metal clutched so close to the man's chest, Tabby's Alert Feat kicks off the encounter as her Defender — and thus, the cat herself — are brought directly in front of Aazkue, shielding him physically from the potential assault that was about to occur. It is indeed better that another solar flare does not incinerate everyone nearby, After-all, the voice in the artificer's head reasons.\n\nThe Defender remains interposed between Aatkei and Aazkue as the Guardian, too, moves, fully intending to keep the amulet that adorned the magic-wielder's neck under her armor. It butts its fists together as a warning sign that further intrusion would be met with retribution. Together they form a make-shift kind of wall to defend someone who very likely need not any special kind of guard.\n\nThe Defender passes up Tabby her crossbow, it loading with power granted by the arcane stone that was embedded into the very top of its flight groove, sparkling with powerful magic as she aims down the sights, serving as another possible deterrent. \"STAND DOWN.\" She calls out, aiming at Aatkei as she amplifies her voice with Thaumaturgy Just as she did the Silver Knight. The machines finish their movement; Tabby still firmly on her Defender's shoulders as they stand well-within 5 feet of Aazkue.\n\nThe Defender, noticing that the Guardian made a somewhat threatening motion, decides to do the same, mimicking it entirely from start-to-finish. How unoriginal!\n\n_ _\nAlthough remaining inoffensive to the attacker, the trio continue to remain a threat to anyone who dare come close to the incredibly gifted Aazkue. Unable to put into words exactly Why Someone should submit to the will of the guard, Tabby instead decides to remain neutral; hoping that the defenses would remain steadfast and stave off whatever would potentially end negatively for the enraged assailant. Of course, due to the nature of action economy, Tabby is unable to take any other action than the aforementioned cantrip. Her automatons both take the Dodge Action, unable to do much else at this point in time.\n\nBecause of this turn of events, Tabby is forced to End her Turn With no real deterrent aside from the outward threat she sends to Aatkei and those who would seek to damage the enlightened being she seeks to protect." } ]	589	3,201
593	2022-06-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "*\"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!!\"\n\nAatkei screamed in the ferocity of hatred at Kuouo, who had taken him out of his sprint by surprise, entrapping him in a sort of lock that he certainly had the sheer Might* To break from, but not the Experience To do so. The molten flames of hatred that coursed throughout his veins empowered his muscles above and beyond their typical limits, and as he resisted Kuouo's grab, it felt as though he had a Bull In his grip. Yet he could not break free; the force was all too unevenly distributed, his legs and arms working counterintuitively, as his motions, hate-driven, were guided with not intelligence, but the sheer barbarity of his instinct — a terrible, terrible Hatred, And one that boiled from within. A hatred imbedded within him since childhood; a hatred that lingered in his soul as he continued for years on-end, in suffering; a hatred that only gruesomely expanded itself further and further, sending cracks throughout his very mind—\n\nHis head tilted back, and his eyes shifted up, and he stared at Kuouo, and his irises shivered, and the grip on his makeshift weapon tightened, and all reason seemed to seep from the seething landscape of his mind, and his balance shifted, and, and, and—\n\n*He took a stab at the bandit.\n\nThe piece of shrapnel glided mere millimeters from Kuouo's neck, shaving clean the tips of his fur, only hindered from piercing his throat due to the awkward angle at which Aatkei's arms were restrained.\n\n`Why?`\n\nHis eyes that overflow with hatred shivered again, and as his grip on the shrapnel only tightens and tightens, he clenches tight his teeth, a sense of helplessness beginning to set in—\n\n`Why?!`\n_ _\n\nHe gave a dire grimace, an uneasy breath of air shakily erupting from between his teeth, groaning—\n\n\"WHY ARE YOU IN MY WAY, YOU BEDAMNED OUTSIDERS?!\"\n\"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU ALL! GET OFF OF ME! 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙊𝙁𝙁!\"\n\n`None of you understand...! Not one bit! You fucking bastards!`" }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "She turns on a heel, shifting around the corner, as, in the emergence of her sight—\n\nThe knelt Root-Crown, lacking of his thorns,\nThe outsiders,\n__And Aatkei, her Younger brother, in danger.__\n\nHer eyes, so oft dazed by the persisting effects of the Taarei* Pellet, and so oft lacking of either emotion or drive, were, in this moment, filled with something they had only rarely seen before—\n\n*Fire.\n\nShe did not, at this moment, need reasoning. She did not, at this moment, need context. She did not, at this moment, need duty, and at this moment, she did not need the guidance of the Root-Crown,* The one and only person to whom she could swear fealty. Kovrot, despite her external façade of severance and stoicism, was, too, one who, deep within, possessed emotion, too. \n\nPride. Sorrow. Anger. Envy. Joy.\nAnd Love.\nFamilial love for one, who, despite her memory being so distant, she could never relinquish such a feeling, even in a dream.\n\nA purple energy crackled off her fingertips, as she, with twofold the speed of Aatkei's dash, approached Kuouo.\n*She would vaporize him in a single touch." }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "```diff\n- \"𝒪𝒩 𝑀𝒴 𝒩𝒜𝑀𝐸 𝒜𝒮 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒪𝐿𝒜𝑅 𝒢𝒰𝒜𝑅𝒟𝐼𝒜𝒩—\"\n\n- \"𝓐𝓛𝓛 𝓞𝓕 𝓨𝓞𝓤, 𝓢𝓣𝓞𝓟!\"```\n\nThe Solar Guardian, who had yet been silent up until this moment, finally cried out.\nThe flickering false-flames of individuality that fluxed about Aazkue's figure flared in intensity, the effulgence that mirrored the very wrath of a dying star embering, burning bright, from within the midst of his heart. The miraculous — nay, Divine* — manas that erupted from Aazkue's body fueled again the incantation of `Quetaa Ezuek,` His demanding presence sending a tangible chill down each of their spines.\n\nIndeed, in his prime, he was perhaps one of such sheer magical caliber that he could be called the Greatest warrior of the whole Ark.\n\nThe burning manas of pure, crystalline, crimson-red nature condensed at Aazkue's fingertips, as he hurriedly attempted to make sense of the situation. He demanded order, and yet he did not know how to bring it about; he was not as swift of mind as his brother, Ukue. Raw strength and valor were his greater virtues. He hadn't an idea how to disarm the hostility that, so virulent, coursed throughout the atmosphere, and so he hesitated, even if only for a moment. How could he resolve this? How could he stop their attacks? How could he make them all see reason?—\n_ _\n\n`Blast it all!`\n*`I'll use force instead!`\n\nThe divine mana that coalesced at his fingertips emitted itself not as a miracle, but as a forceful blast of pure energy, shattering the atmosphere before him and forcing Kovrot to fly, hurtling backward.* Tabby, Kuouo, and Cumhall could feel the sheer heat and energy that resided within the 'nonlethal' attack — and, indeed, it was Terribly forceful. It felt as though the full gust and heat of a flaming hurricane blasted past them, the whole of its tremendous force used to harshly impact and incapacitate Kovrot before she could lay hands on Kuouo." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "Aatkei could only watch in horror as his sister was flung from her feet, hurled like chaff in the wind, and thrust horridly across the surface of the stone behind, the hate within his eyes briefly departing, thusly replaced with shock and terror. The guardian had, without even so much as lifting himself from his nonchalant, kneeled position, mustered such a terrifying attack — and, more importantly, Harmed Kovrot.\n\nHe gnashed his teeth, and that brief moment of horror was again replaced with a swirling flurry of emotions — an atrocious furor of thoughts, and a chaotic range of sensations whose only common denominator was sheer Hatred. The raw anger intermingled with fear, and with fear mingled the sensation of helplessness, and with helplessness reflection, and with reflection sorrow, and with sorrow frustration, and with frustration, again, Anger. The revolving loop of emotion twirled and twirled, spiraling in a cycle endlessly, as the subtle glitter of tears welled in his eyes—\n\n\n*\"YOU!!\n\nHe screamed as the cycle crept again upon anger, his throat crackling with the sheer force of the air blasting from his lungs, as though it were glass readily about to crack.\n\n\"IT WASN'T ENOUGH?!\"\n\nAnger spiraled into reflection, as he recollected, and recollected, and recollected, every moment of shame, every comfortless second at night, every pathetic failure, every ounce of suffering, and every one of those many Losses.* He could hardly bite back each and every one of those reflections, rushing forth, turbulently tearing throughout his mind as he sought reasoning — an Answer.\n_ _\n\n*\"Why?!\"\n\"...Did Father and Mother\"\n\"Die so pitifully, because of what you fucken' did...?!\"\n\nThe glimmer of tears welled into a stream, and that stream trickled down his face, as reflection turned to sorrow.\n\n`The soul that sinneth, it shall die.`\n `The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him,`\n `and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.`\n\n\"Why did I have to be born in suffering because of your betrayal, you bedamned monster?\n\"It's all because of you...!\"\n\"You bedamned basterd!\"\n\nSorrow turned to frustration, as he sucked back in all the regrets that trickled forth, his mind again going hot in the prison that was Fate.\n\nPerhaps Aatkei, was, in this moment, a reflection of the True* Nature of the Exile's Watch—\n*A rotten little hamlet filled with those who only existed to suffer, and suffer for the consequences of Aazkue's actions.\n\n\"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!\"\n\nFrustration turns to anger, and Aatkei's eyes again seethe in the sight of naught but red, his vice-tight grip on the shrapnel returning. His resistance against Kuouo's grapple renewed in sheer strength, as he Forced* His body forward. He could not hold him for long, as, in the sheer intensity of that anger, he began to *Burst forth." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "```diff\n- \"Allright playtimes over bud\"-\n```\nHe walked, no, strolled over to where Aatkei lay grappled and as he thrust the sharpened piece of metal towards Kuouo -dink-* He blocked it with his metal hand which, was not actually connected to the socket on his right shoulder but held in his left hand.\nHe clicked it back into its place with a snap and a hiss and the metal hands grip closed around the shard yanking it from Aatkei' grip and then promptly crushed it, the mechanical might would bend the shard of metal into a shape that would make stabbing, not possible.\nHe was content to leave it at that but Aatkei continued to struggle against his restraints.\n```diff\n- \"Are you a fucking moron, that man may as well be a demigod and you plan to raise a hand against him? You would rather see yourself die here than see the chance to escape from this hell?\" -\n\" ... This is for your own good\" -\n```\nHe reared back, and with his less powerful - less Lethal Left arm he would strike Aatkei across the side of the head.\n```diff\n- \"God you people are so barbaric, always fighting first and never seeing reason, i hope every floor is not so\" -\n```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Remaining sturdy in their defense, Tabby raises her arm quickly, sending a visual command to her Guardian as she swings her hand like a pendulum, ceasing as soon as it hits the apex of turning left, and the defense is shuffled to something she deems stronger, as — FWOOF — Kovrot is sent sprawling into the air as per the magic caused by Aazkue's Diplomatic Use of magic \n\nHoly hell, maybe he doesn't need help at all... Yet, the cat must continue to play defensively.\n\nThe Defender moves to one side of Aazkue, sliding Tabby off it's shoulders and in front of the VIP, landing with a soft Thud As she readies her crossbow, taking great care to not put weight onto her injured foot as her aim steadies and hones in on a potential target should Cumhall's assault not hinder — and, of course, her target would be not unlike the ones she took on Otaaraa, scoping out his knees, shoulders, and insides of his elbows, yet she does not shoot until it is absolutely required. With Thaumaturgy Still very much active, she barks another loud command. \"STAND DOWN, NOW.\"\n\nShe raises her hand again, speaking a command in Latin, of all languages \"CUNEUM FORMATE.\" \n\nThe Defender & Guardian respond to the calls, flanking Aazkue on the Left, in the Defender's case and Right For the Guardian. \"LET'S JUST TALK THIS OUT.\" The automatons form a very small Wedge Formation with Aazkue at the center, and Tabby as the top rank, sitting at an odd angle so as to allow Aazkue the ability to cast without hitting her; her leg is still screwed regardless.\n\nThe Defender butts its fists together menacingly, though, it too does not make an outright attack, instead taking the Ready Action. Should a blow originate from the angle that it covers, it would trigger a powerful retribution from the Defender, remaining close in rank to potentially prevent damage to Both Tabby and the Solar Guardian it now found itself beside.\n\n_ _\nThe Shield Guardian takes its turn differently, standing a few inches Off-formation, and commits to Dodge, being unable to take its action as apart of this round due to economy running out.\n\nTabby, too, takes the Ready Action, preparing to fire 4 bolts from her crossbow — one for each limb — should the defense Cumhall puts up be ineffective, yet remains easily swayed by the words that Aazkue himself speaks, hesitant to shoot in the event things turn out amicably, however unlikely that is." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "```fix\n\"Gghh— Stop, moving, around!!\"```\n\nKuouo genuinely struggled against the exile's *Fury* Pushing him forward. He shuffled backwards, trying to reel him in with the best of his ability. The only thing keeping Aatkei from progressing forward were his erratic movements, anger leaving the ex-highwayman without the proper coordination to break free. Aatkei's head tilted back, the bandit half-wincing at a probable headbutt - instead, they locked eyes, the bandit gazing into the Piercing Rage burning behind the windows of Aatkei's soul, jaw-shattering clenched teeth clamping down below before a sudden shift in weight put Kuo into disadvantage, allowing Aatkei's makeshift blade a bit more range than the bandit would like.\n\nClink!\n\nAlthough the blade would've only shaved the mere tips of Kuo's thick fur, Cumhall suddenly intercepted the attack with an extension of his other hand - literally. The bandit strenuously exhaled, sweat breaking out onto his forehead from the close call before bringing Aatkei closer into the hold — His leg buckles, however, allowing Aatkei a few steps forward, Avoiding Cumhall's strike Before barely becoming enclasped once more.\n\n*```fix\n\"IN YOUR WAY!? I'M TRYNA SAVE YER LIFE ASSHOLE! YOU CAN DIE!```\n\n* *\nIt then occured to the bandit — Although rage pulled its crimson red curtain over Aatkei, designating his every action with reckless abandon... It certainly was not without reason. The exile was willing to throw his life away, attempt an impossible assassination on the one responsible for it all... For what reason was there to continue living in the Exile's Watch? A grungy village rattled with the abuse of Taarei* - that of which affected his own Sister To a degrading matter - while being paid pennies on the dollar — All for [Eternity.]\n\n... But it was with all of these reasons, Kuo's determination to change the Exile's Watch for the better was reinforced. He opened his mouth, attempting to try and reason with Aatkei and talk him down —\n\nBut before his voice could even escape his throat, he choked up on that feeling of purple, Malicious Mana buzzing through the air - an arcane mana that could disintegrate one's flesh with a simple graze - Only this time, it wasn't used as a warning shot in a familial dispute - no, it's weight meant life and death for the struggle she'd decide to intervene in. Kuo's eyes widened, feeling the immense pressure of Kovrot's intent to kill - to Vaporize - the bandit whilst staring into her cold windows. Kuo was in an absolute rut, for if he were to keep Aatkei in his full-nelson hold, then he would Most certainly die. If he were to do otherwise, however, it put the exile in Immense Danger, whether it be retaliation from Aazkue, a preemptive strike from Tabby, or both - All of which could lead to the exile being in grave danger of being gravely injured or Killed. Furthermore, the latter action didn't guarantee Kuo's safety from Kovrot's attack either. Kuouo breathed in-and-out, drawing shallow breaths as she drew closer with mighty speed. The only thing he could do in this situation was————\n\n```diff\n- \"𝒪𝒩 𝑀𝒴 𝒩𝒜𝑀𝐸 𝒜𝒮 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒪𝐿𝒜𝑅 𝒢𝒰𝒜𝑅𝒟𝐼𝒜𝒩—\"\n\n- \"𝓐𝓛𝓛 𝓞𝓕 𝓨𝓞𝓤, 𝓢𝓣𝓞𝓟!\"```\n\n \nAazkue once again demonstrated his Frightening Power, a true prodigy in warrior arts and usage of his innate, Divine, And arcane nature. Kovrot, just meters away with her arm extended towards the bandit, is sent flying back by the pure energy emitted from the Root-Crown's mere Fingertips With the force of an infernal storm... In all honesty, the feeling replacing the dread caused by Kovrot's own magic was not much better - but a breath of relief did purse through Kuo's lips. Knowing that Aazkue's intent was 'Nonlethal' and the above peak-human form of the lifeforms on the Vektet, Kuo rested easy knowing that Kovrot was more than likely still alive. Furthermore, while Kuo put a temporary embargo on helping Aazkue, he knew the doctor would immediately take up the chance to help the girl in need for it was in his innate nature to help those injured.\n\nKuo focused back on Aatkei, who, with the lack of reasoning Kuo held, most likely did not think the same. The display of Aazkue's sheer aptitude against Kovrot did not spark any rationality within Aatkei's mind. Although it brought out the inner-most emotions within the exile, some of which the bandit sympathized with, it only set more fuel to the fire - With his powerful burst forward, the ex-highwayman nearly broke the hold. Their entanglement reeled Aatkei backwards, causing him to stumble back onto Kuo's bad leg, misplacing his weight on Kuo's right foot. He'd fall backwards onto his rump... If Kuo's leg had not broke his fall.\n\n```fix\n- BLEᴀᵃᵃᵗ! -```\n\n*```fix\n\"AAGGGGGHHHH FUCK FUCK FUCK GODDAMN COCKSUCKER SON OF A MOTHERFUCKING BITCH RRRRAAAGGGHHHH!!!\"```\n\n* \nKuouo let go of the Exile trapped within his hold, tears welling up in his eyes as he fell onto his behind and held his leg in extreme pain. He looked up, face going numb as the realization of his failure set in upon seeing Aatkei blistering forward towards the divine Root-Crown.\n\n```fix\n\"Ngh- Somebody fuckin' stop 'im! He's gonna get 'imself hurt!\"```\n\nWith Aazkue incapacitating Kovrot, it was less than likely that Aazkue would move to kill him - But it still put a strain on things. Tabby, acting as Aazkue's own stand-in guard, readied her defenders and aimed her crossbow at the ex-highwayman; although she expressed diplomacy, it was more than obvious that Aatkei lacked the rationale to comprehend that statement. He moved towards the Root-Crown as he did before, not caring for the outsiders nor their intent for being there, acting solely on the emotions stirred. Despite the pain, despite the struggle, despite the notion of near-death, Kuo still empathized for the disheveled man, for he, more than likely, represented the majority of the first floor's emotion and trauma. Unable to do anything other than crawl forward for the moment, he shifted his maw towards Aazkue and Tabby, crawling forward and using his external pain to boost the voice from deep within his stomach,\n\n```fix\n\"DON'T FUCKIN' HURT HIM!\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"NOT PLANNING TO.\" She calls back, simply, yet her focus does not waver. If he makes a truly frightening attempt, there must be someone to stop it. \"THAT'S WHY I WANT HIM TO _STAND DOWN_ SO WE CAN TALK THIS OUT.\"*" }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "In the chaos of the battlefield, and in the fiery pain that engulfed her own body, Kovrot did not falter.\nThe Taarei's* Numbing effect had begun to wane, and yet she brushed aside the pain.\nIn this moment, Kovrot was clear of mind, focused, and determined, her sights set not upon the opponents before herself, but on Aatkei, her darkened irises with clear sight focused on the only thing that truly mattered, in this moment, before her.\n\nWere the Sun, Moon, and Stars to fall on her very head, here and now, she would not waver in her determination — for that Drive, That call to Move forward, And to defend the things close to herself, were all she had left.\n\nKovrot stood, and with a sharp gasp inward, she damned the pain of her burned body to nihil, unfurling her left hand with its fingers wide-extended, the devious necrotic energy of a violet twinge sparkling with a horrific aspect of death, the overflowing mana that manifested its arcane nature empowering its glow into an almost electric crackle, buzzing in a dazzling, yet horrific light off each finger. The air and world around her seemed to go deathly chill, the harrow wrought by the heretical nature of the forbidden magicks she brought forth infecting the very atmosphere that engulfed her body with its malicious purple. \n\nHer flesh could hardly contain such a terrible presence, and yet she cared little.\n_ _\n\nShe grasped with a choking grasp about the base of her left arm, and withheld the further spread of the terrible purple's coursing energy, her eyes still focused upon the distant form of Aatkei, on the precipice of breaking free. In the ignorance of her pain, injuries, and the very world around her, Kovrot sprinted forth with a wholly superhuman gait, her long strides thrusting her meters-on-end, as she explosively dashed forth from her knocked-prone position mere moments after she had taken the brunt of Aazkue's attack. Her darkened eyes, in unbroken focus, locked on the outsider's — Cumhall's — fist, as it soared forth, to strike and to incapacitate Aatkei, and she knew naught but her own will to defend. Their words of shock and of panic, of anger and of frustration, of explanation and justification — all so easily brushed past her ears, as she sought only to Nullify the threat.\n\nHer arm would extend forth, and she would continue in sprint, enclosing on Cumhall as his fist approached Aatkei's face. In the moment that it would nearly collide, Kovrot would seek to lay hands on his flesh — and succinctly render him no more than __dust.__\n\nSo it would be, if it were not for the fact that She was intercepted.*" }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "```diff\n- \"𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇!\"```\n\nAazkue yelled out, his piercing, crimson eyes settling again upon the form of Kovrot, fast in approach. He grit his teeth in alarm, his eyes wide open, shocked at the very fact that she could Still get up after taking such a blow.* The guardian again raised his right hand ahead of his kneeled self, miraculous manas from the surrounding atmosphere abundantly collecting in intense concentrations at the subtlest of his commands. The fiery-red hue of the nonmiraculous magic which he incanted forth became tangibly visible in an incandescent glow that warmly emanated at his fingertips, densening, refining, and heating, again into a terribly-forceful attack to intercept the woman with murderous intent.\n\n`I know not how much more her body can take...`\n`But if she progresses any further, she will vainly take the life of a man without guilt!`\n\nBriefly, Aazkue hesitated. He scorned his own lack of ability as he breathed a harsh blast of air from between his teeth, his eyes glittering briefly with guilt and remorse as he set his gaze on the oncoming energy of deathly violet. And yet, as he swiftly clarified in his conscious — He had no other choice. There was none, whatsoever, intent for him to permanently harm Kovrot, and if it were even possible, even less so to Kill Her. Still, if he did not stop her here and now, she would certainly use the deathly aura that engulfed her left arm to severely harm the outsider Cumhall, or worse...\n\nSo he swallowed his hesitation, bowed his head slightly in regret, and Again launched forth a furious blast of raw, scorching energy, so to send Kovrot hurtling back. Thankfully, due to the outsider Tabby's advance positioning, and the angle at which Kovrot approached, he could send the shockwave of unrelenting force directly ahead, without worry of striking either.\n\nIt was a regrettable action to perform, but indeed entirely necessary." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "*THUMP\n\n—Before Cumhall* Could even see what his fist struck, it stopped abruptly, as if it had impacted a wall made of solid stone brick. A frightening grasp tightens about his hand, and he realizes it is not a Barrier He has impacted, but Another person's hand. \n\n\n```fix\n=☾ 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐌 ☽=```\n\n—a cold born of sheer absence of energy consumed the air immediately surrounding Cumhall, Kuouo, and Aatkei, as the oncoming wave of fiery heat launched by Aazkue Dissipated—\n\n```fix\n= ───────────── • ───────────── \n= 𝑨𝑹𝑼𝑬 𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑨\n= 𝑷𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑽\n= ❛𝒁𝑬𝒁𝑹𝑨𝑨𝑬❜\n= ───────────── • ─────────────```\n\n*`Zezraae.`\n`Umbra's Retaliation.`\n\nNullified, absorbed, and redirected, the blast of raw mana that shot forth from Aazkue's palm dissipated as it passed close to Cumhall and the one who grasped his fist, before violently re-manifesting, launching straight into the ground just ahead of Aazkue, himself.\n\n`A prayer of the Arue.`\n\nBesides Ve, there was only one person left on the First Floor who could incant such a miracle." }, { "author": "VEITVAAZVA", "message": "`Emerging between Aatkei and Cumhall`\n`rising from the depths of the shadows, manifesting in an instant,`\n`was Vaazva — 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐯𝐚𝐚𝐳𝐯𝐚, the elder of the Exile's Watch, who had now departed from his mask.`\n\nHis golden glare pierced like spears through each of their souls, digging deep beyond their hearts with the tangible presence of hostile intent.\n\n`First, he locked eyes with Cumhall.`\n\n```fix\n\"𝑺𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖.\"```\n\nAn austere tone broke forth from his lips, his face shaded still by the presence of the tenebrous of the darkness-unifying prayer which he utilized to manifest instantaneously before him. The golden glare of the Eyes of Providence glistened with a soul-scrying nature, peering deep into the farthest recesses of Cumhall's soul — in which he found Blood.\n\nThe blood of Otaaraa, no doubt.\n\nHe squeezed tight his grip on Cumhall's fist, his eyes shifting over his shoulder and toward the one who the outsider attempted to strike: Aatkei.\n\nAs he validified his secondary assumption that Cumhall was indeed in an attempt to attack Aatkei — one who, even despite ~~\|\|Veit\|\|~~VAazva's harshness, saw as something akin to Family,* And perhaps even as a Son — he could no longer withhold himself. The wretched hatred which he had long sealed away within his mind having long burst free. His Urges Now surfaced, and his old nature made renewed reared its ugly, blood-stained head. \n\nThis Was the essence of the exiled Veitvaazva, the former Archregistrar and the Arue's Eyes of Providence. Upon his fall from glory, he was filled with nothing more but Bloodlust, And a seek to crush each and every intruder who would dare step foot within the Ark. \n_ _\n\n`Second, he locked eyes with Tabby.`\n\n```fix\n\"𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆.\"```\n\nVeitvaazva disavowed his former conclusion. He thought himself to be better in control of himself, concluding that he should stray from the path of blood and spare the life of the outsider — even though her hands, too, were stained with the blood of the Watch's protection. Now, he could not be more certain. Now, he had determined that his choice of mercy was a mistake. Now, he had affirmed, that his initial path was true and just — For every last outsider was one of malevolent intent, and certainly deserving to be killed without explanation. She took the side of a demonous traitor; a Monster Who had condemned each and every last life within this decrepit floor to an eternity of suffering. She, too, was soaked in blood, as was the outsider whose fist he grasped tight. She, too, must perish.\n\n`Third, he locked eyes with Kuouo.`\n\n```fix\n\"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒆.\"```\n\n*Traitor.\n\n`The gleam of Veitvaazva's eyes glow, and settle finally upon Aazkue, the guardian knelt before him. Hostility erupts from his form as would flames from an open furnace.`\n\n```fix\n╭╼\|═════════════════════════════════════════\|╾╮\n \"𝕀'𝕞 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦.\"\n╰╼\|═════════════════════════════════════════\|╾╯```*" } ]	538.5	7,116
794.25	2022-06-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "The cat's ears prick up, barely having enough time to screech at the other animal in their midst. \"GOAT, MOVE BACK.\" She yells to Kuo, as the powerful Veitvaazva appears; her voice remaining bolstered by Thaumaturgy Even now.\n\n\nIn the following seconds, the cat's tail begins to flick wildly and her ears flatten back, feeling the very tangible threat deep inside. That feeling sinks deeper and deeper into her psyche, as she speaks more. \"WE ARE NOT TRYING TO FIGHT _ANYONE_ HERE. WE CAN TALK THIS OUT, VAAZVA.\"\n\n\nFuck, I should've killed you earlier. Fucking mortals.\n\n\nThe cat keeps her weapon still, refusing to fire a single damaging blow to anyone here; remaining a Threat, yet not an immediate one. If someone were to attack with such hostility, they would certainly be met with resistance. \n\n\n\"Stupid puny mortal with your stupid puny god complex. You see everything within a person, yet remain blind to the fact that we are _trying_ to keep your companions from throwing their _lives_ away.\" She taunts angrily, letting Vaazva read whatever the fuck he wants from the soul that inhabits her body. It doesn't matter, anyways.\n\n\nAs the alarm bells reach their climax, something from within responds.\n\n\nI think I have an idea.\n\n\nThe cat's ears perk again, You're not a good fighter, listening to something entirely unheard as she raises her fist away from the foregrip of the crossbow.\n\n\nThe bolt nocked in it suddenly starts to gleam, changing from its normal azure tone to that of pure __Light,__ as the non-lethal cantrip _of the same name_ is put at the _Ready_; its pure speed held back only by magical restraint. She lowers her fist back down to the grip, her automatons shifting their stance in response to a much heavier opponent arriving on the battlefield.\n\n\n\nShould the frightening Vaazva make a move against anyone here, or Anyone Other than the allies she finds herself with, move towards Aazkue, the Ready Action would trigger.\n\n_ _\n\nThe Guardian, additionally, takes a Ready Action, preparing for any incredibly sudden movements to come towards the wedge that has been formed, while the Defender is forced to take the Dodge Action.\n\n\nTabby _Ends her Turn._" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo clenched his teeth, raising himself up with his left leg, only able to watch Kovrot do the same for herself. Once more, the deathly magic sparked to life in each fingertip of her left hand, dampening the atmosphere with a spine-chilling aura that eminated Certain death. Her eyes shifted away from the bandit, no longer a threat to Aatkei nor herself for the time being. Instead, she focused her attention — ignoring the blistering pain that blighted her flesh — to the one who attempted to strike the ex-highwayman last, the middle-aged mercenary, Cumhall. The same cold, sharp eyes with the intent to Disappate Her opponent into near-nothingness displayed itself again — It was quite clear, no attack, no pain, lethal or not, would shatter the determination pushing her forward.\n\nWithout much thought put into her actions, it'd make a near-copy of the situation from just moments before, Aazkue raising his hand up with pure, raw mana looking to counterstrike Kovrot again in hopes to keep him from experiencing the brunt of the harrowing magic that engulfed her body. The counterattack flung forth, Kovrot—\n\n```bash\n\"= ───────────── • ───────────── \n= 𝑨𝑹𝑼𝑬 𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑨\n= 𝑷𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑽\n= ❛𝒁𝑬𝒁𝑹𝑨𝑨𝑬❜\n= ───────────── • ─────────────\"```\n\n... Was rendered completely safe from the blast, the atmosphere growing cold as the attack is nullified, re-manifested, and sent flying towards Aazkue. Kuo's eyes widened, for who wielded such a mana that could rival that of the Root-Crown? This wasn't a simple ``Veie Ezuek`` like that wielded by the Knights of Sol, no, it was a prayer of the Arue with far more power and complexity. Kuo's eyes dashed across the battlefield, searching for an answer to such a dire question...\n\nManifesting from the shadows between Aatkei and Cumhall emerged a great, unexpected fear striking Kuo on every sense of danger possible within his instincts.\n\nVeitvaazva, looking at each and one of the outsiders with an opague bloodlust, judged each and every one of the sins they've committed on the First Floor... Kuo Would Be confused, accused of an unsaid treachery that disgusted the all-knowing, but instead, he was left gritting his teeth, shaking due to his current state. From the very moment Vaazva first made contact with the bandit, Kuo knew very well he was not a person to be Fucked With and despite the relationship between the two previously established, it was all out the window now. He grabbed his dagger, tensely unsheathing it as it seemed a tense battle was ahead. Himself, Cumhall, Tabby, Kovrot, Aatkei, Vaazva, Aazkue, and Zoche-\n\n``The Doctor.``\n\nKuouo's eyes quickly turned towards the slug, nearly running towards him and standing tall in front of him. For this journey, he'd agreed to act as the doctor's escort, a stand-in guard for the man requested to talk to by Aazkue himself. By all means, despite the changing of the play-field, Kuo had an obligation to protect the doctor for they had a strong, mutual loyalty.\n\n```fix\n\"... Doc, this is lookin' to be rough.\"```\n\nHe said quietly, his voice only loud enough to be carried by the light breeze as he stood, unfacing the doctor.\n\n```fix\n\"I dunno what's goin' on, or if this can be solved by any other means. We've been split into sides I never wanted t' take, and tryin' t' make sure Aatkei didn't get hurt seems t've bit me in the ass. More than likely... More than likely, I'm goin' to fuckin' die here. I've managed to rest a little bit but my leg is still a bit mangled. You, you however, yer still a genius doc. You gotta get outta here before things get outta hand and you get hurt, alright? Only you an' Sheto can continue makin' that cure.\"```\n\n \nKuouo bowed his head, unwrapping the splint tied around his leg before tearing it off. The pressure hurt like hell, but it allowed him unrestrained movement — unrestrained, still being limited to pain of course. Although the healing process was quickened by the doctor's intricate work and Sheto's medicine, the pain was only halved. Furthermore, the more Kuo would act on his bad leg, the worse it'd shatter until its worked on by the doctor again.\n\n*```fix\n\"Now go.\"```\n\nHe demanded, gripping Infernium tightly as he racked his brain for a solution. His mana and general stamina had managed to recover to a quarter of its stores, thanks to the couple winks of rest he was given in the doctor's office. Compared to Aazkue and Vaazva, coupled with a broken leg, it still rendered him nigh slaughterable - But it gave him a chance nonetheless. He couldn't figure out a way to talk this out, not without a clear cut reason for why Veitvaazva sought to Exterminate* Him specifically. He'd have to manuever through the bloodlust, at least find reasoning before the impending onslaught of violence. Despite Tabby's warning, Kuo moved about three-and-a-half meter away from Vaazva, looking to ask the all-knowing with dagger still in hand.\n\n```fix\n\"What is this about? Is it about curin' the Root-Crown? I didn't know it'd destroy the order 'e brought to this degree, hell, was I supposed t' know he'd be the most 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 person on the first floor!? You think I shoulda killed a man who doesn't even know what year it is, much less what happened to him last!?\"```\n\nKuouo beared his fangs, stuck in a rut. He didn't want to attack Vaazva, nor let anyone else fall to his attack. Flames began manifesting around him, his mana stores not replenishing, but deepening as his anger and frustration grew. A bright fire grew in his palms, at the soles of his paws, flourishing his tattered cape as he pointed at Vaazva.\n\n```fix\n\"𝙄'𝙈 𝘿𝘼𝙈𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙁 𝙄 𝘿𝙊, 𝘿𝘼𝙈𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙁 𝙄 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏, 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙄𝙉' 𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙀𝘾𝙏 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙀𝙉𝘼𝘾𝙏 𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙉𝙂𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙇𝙀'𝙎 𝙎𝙐𝙁𝙁𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙉' 𝘿𝙊𝙒𝙉 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀. 𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐'𝙍𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘼𝘼𝙕𝙆𝙐𝙀, 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙀, 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏'𝙎 𝙊𝙉 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙉 𝙀𝙓𝙄𝙇𝙀. 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝘼𝙄𝙉'𝙏 𝙂𝙊𝙄𝙉' 𝙏𝙊 𝘿𝙊 𝘼 𝘿𝘼𝙈𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂.\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "The cat stares pointedly, waiting for something to happen as the bandit gets a few steps away.\n\nIt's not much, but it's better than practically hugging..\n\n_Wait. Root-Crown?_ The cat mentally reflects on the Solar Guardian behind her — He's the Root-Crown?? What the hell even IS the Root-Crown??\n\nThe cat's aim does not waver, remaining completely steady even as she mulls over whatever-the-fuck is being said. \n\nSpeaking with Thaumaturgy Still active, Tabby Verbally Asks the question fresh in her mind. \"What the hell is going on and what the hell did Aazkue even do??? I've only heard that name TWICE before even MEETING the guy?!\"\n\nTabby does indeed aim to shield those who come close — it would be better to be shot non-lethally than it would to get tossed around like leaves in a salad by the confused Aazkue — knowing; or, at the very least, Assuming That the deity could very easily kill with what seemed to be his definition of \"Non-lethal\"" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "```diff\n- \"Fuck.\" -\n```\nHe muttered- no snarled through gritted teeth, it seemed a million things happened at once, the necromancer was headed straight for him, but it would not pose much of a threat, his entire body was covered in multiple layers of armour, all separated in a manner not too dissimilar to a multi pane window, the spell would need to breach each layer of armour individually before it reached his flesh and before that could happen he would grab her arm with his cybernetic hand, a grip strength 20 times that of a humans, his entire forearm would spin 360 degrees, eviscerating her arm.\nBut she never even got close enough.\nManifesting in front of him was someone he had never laid eyes upon, a stranger in every sense who hurled accusations to all around, his mind was overcome with confusion but he did not have time to think- he had to Act .\nHis first instinct was to go on the offensive, but he remembered his injured state, normally he could tank the first shot but even now it took immense obstinacy to ignore the stabbing pains in his chest.\nSo he retreated, he backpaddled with impressive speed, it seemed curiously that the intricate art of running backwards was one he had mastered.\n```diff\n- \"Jesuschristallmightyinheavenabove lend me your fuckin' strength what the hell is going on\" -\n```\nHe practically hissed the string of swears as his eyes frantically darted about the battlefield.\n```diff\n- \"If it's any consolation cat, i've got even less of a clue\" -\n```\nFor the time being he would not make a move and would only act in reaction, their new opponent had yet to reveal his hand and any hostile action may very well just play into it, and leave Chumall in far worse of a state than he was already in, he couldn't afford to take a heavy hit again- not on floor fucking one.\nHe gritted his teeth, letting out a sound half grunt and half snarl in frustration." } ]	473.5	3,177
411.928571	2022-06-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Zocheiz", "message": "Zocheiz had never grown acclimated to high-stress situations.\n\nIt felt like eons since he had stepped outside of the midst of his clinic, and his isolation had not helped any his already fragile soul; he never was one with a valiant heart, and such was why he took to the comfort of books and practical research. Even in his time on the Fourth Floor, he hadn't taken to the way of the warriors of his village, and instead buried himself in isolation and the search of knowledge. Knowledge was, of course, something that he could attain, comfortably — or, at the very least, relatively so. To pluck through the pages of a book, to practice the manipulation of a scalpel, and to sift the sensation of mana through one's fingers did not come with the tremendous danger of pursuing the honor and glory that came through trial by combat. Research had the many virtues that pursuing honor did, all without the risks. It wasn't simple, and yet it was comfortable. It wasn't dangerous, and yet it was worth something. It wasn't valorous, and yet it made him greater, smarter, better.\n\nThis familiarity with peace and solitude in the depths of a research laboratory had grown to be Zocheiz' sole comfort. As he transitioned from the Fourth Floor to the Third, from the Third looped-back to the Fifth, from the Fifth descended down to the Second, and finally from the second unto his final place of research, the First, this singular consistency was something of a pillar for his very life. It was the only thing that kept him calm and pure even in the eternal purgatory of his voluntary exile in the First Floor, and, perhaps, something that he had grown Too Reliant on. \n\nWas he bound to the clinic because others hated him? Or because he Wanted To stay? Was the reason for his isolation to avoid the scorn of those who found his body disgusting? Or was it because he could not tolerate the astringent cultures and decrepit state of the Exile's Watch?\n\nPerhaps it was both.\n_ _\n\nNow, however, for the first time in months, years, decades — by the Sun, it might as well be Millenia — he had been forced from his recluse, and brought again to witness the terrors of hatred in exile. The culmination of a society that had spent hundreds of years separated from all external influence, forced to stew in the rot of frustration, each made to recollect for all eternity the sole failure that led up to their tumble from glory. It was now seething, bubbling, grossly before him. That terrible feeling that he could never allow himself to be overtaken by. A churning in the stomach, burning like fire that wished to be belched forth. Hatred. The exiles' hatred. Of Aazkue, Ukue, the Order of the Knights of Sol, the Ezer, and the very society that was the Arue.\n\nGoing so long without having witnessed it firsthand, it felt as though he had thrust himself back into a harsh reality entirely unprepared.\n\nHis eyes that witnessed the squalor before him went hot, and his mind which was again forced to process such cruelty panged terribly with pain wrought by sheer panic, dismay, and denial.\n\nZocheiz placed each of his six-digited hands to the side of his cloaked head, and could not muster a breath in the terrible world of sheer hostility around himself, his irises refusing to focus themselves on the battleground soon to be engulfed in chaos before him. He couldn't bring himself to even process Kuouo's words, much less reply to them. The calm and care of the universe around him was spiraling out of control, the peace and love within his soul blemished by the festering corruption of Exile. Exile! How little did he know of that word! Exile! This life was terrible! Terrible! *Terrible!* *Aahh...!\n\nIn the end, Zocheiz would not retreat out of a response to Kuouo's words, but out of his own fret. This world was too painful for him to perceive." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "`\"V—aaz... Va.\"`\n\nAatkei's tone peered in a rough silence, his eyes beholding in slight horror the sheer eminence of the man that manifested before him. Fallen to his back, he raised his right arm forward, and would wish to—" }, { "author": "VEITVAAZVA", "message": "```fix\n\"𝑩𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕.\"```\n\n__Veit__vaazva spoke out, denying the grounded exile even a chance to further make his voice known. His presence of sheer hostility had taken the foreground, shrouding the very existences of both Kovrot and Aatkei into the backdrop of the turbulent scene laid before him. And that was for the better.* They should remain unseen. They should remain unknown. They should remain silent. This was not a battle that either of them — indeed, even Kovrot — should, or could, fight.\n\nAfter all, undeniable justice should be brought about by nothing other than his own two hands.\n\nThe indomitable __Veit__vaazva seethed a harsh exhale that felt more as though it were a blast of air from the nostrils of a wild beast than a breath from a typical person one-in-the-same as those that surrounded himself. He, and many within the Ark, Had transcended the boundaries of mere humanity through a millenia-spanning tribulation that selectively picked only the strong from the midst of the mortal's realm, and those that remained were granted the requite of mingling in the territory of Gods. He, __Veit__vaazva, epitomized that sheer, transcendent strength granted only to the Blessed. And he, __Veit__vaazva, had transcended not only the human limitations of the body, but of the Mind, Also.\n\nHe had sacrificed all individual ambition unto the pursuit of greater strength.\nHe had sacrificed again that greater strength unto the pursuit of greater intellect.\nAnd he had again sacrificed that greater intellect unto greater judgment.\n\nHe had abandoned his humanity and taken up the godly duty as descended unto him by the Ezer.\nThat duty he had abandoned in his time in exile, where he would again take up humanity—\nWhich, now, marking thrice a time, he had again discarded.\n\n*He would not humor them further a word as he prepared for combat." }, { "author": "Ve", "message": "`Marvelous.`\n\nIn the shadow of the dominant presence that the opposed Aazkue and __Veit__vaazva each individually emanated, manifested the form of the conductor of the very events transpiring at the foot of the Rise to the Second Floor. There appeared Ve,* The mysterious man masked in white porcelain, with a familiar gleam of gold that beamed from each of his two pure eyes. With as little presence and sound as a feather gently resting atop the ground, the man made his discreet appearance on the high-ground of the flanking temporary-housings that spanned either side of the pathway before the greattower, overseeing from a slight distance the happenstance on the road beneath him.\n\nHe would smile with pleasure, if he had pleasure left within his soul to give. The delicate coordination he had built within a moment's notice was now unfurling brilliantly like the silky petals of a rose in full bloom. The man could not say that each piece fell in the exact position that he wanted them to, and neither could he say that each of their acts were directed exactly as planned; however, the denouement of this play was already clear in his sight." }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "*`Hatred.`\n\n`Hatred that burns hotter than the flames of individuality.`\n`Hatred that burns stronger than the draw of one's need for unity.`\n`Hatred that burns to consume even its own origin.`\n\nAazkue never, once in his life, could understand such a thing.\nAnd to see it now, not only displayed before his very eyes, but even directed at Him,* Who was unknowing of why... Was surreal. Beyond the farthest of his imagination. Darker than anything he could contrive. And disturbing, to his very foundation. \n\nHis hands that pressed against the stony path before him began to tremble as he witnessed the sheer vehemence of that deep, dark hatred, outpoured open in his sight. The guardian, at a loss for words, bit the corner of his lip, and scowled with dread. He held his breath for what felt like an eternity, his crystalline irises glittering with the wetness of trepidation and anguish. Those before him sought to kill, and were engulfed by such terrible emotion that they would not, and Could not, Will to speak with him. He was confused, anxious, a tad angry, and perhaps even sad, over the condition of the exiles that surrounded him, and the outsiders that protected him. The sheer frustration brought about by his lack of understanding intertwined with the shades of self-preserving anger, which were further mingled with pity, confusion, and sadness, churning into a deep and distraught sensation in his stomach that was so utterly complex that it lacked any single word to explain its nature.\n_ _\n\nAazkue could hardly lift his hand forward to defend himself.\nBut the drive to guard the First Floor's peace, and to protect others...\n\nStill burned hot within his heart.\nHe had to help them, all of them, even if they came for his head.\n\n`Vaazva, an old acquaintance...`\n`I still remember you.`\n`You were there. On that very day!`\n`When our Lord had us board the Ark,`\n`so that we might pursue eternity.`\n\n`And yet...`\n`this, the unusual you...`\n`Is this what you have become?`\n\n`No. Is this what eternity 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 us become?`\n\n`Or is it...`\n`...The voice of our Lord...?`\n\nUnbeknownst to him, with that thought, his grip on individuality began to fade —\nFor the draw to Unify Had taken a seat of dominance in his soul.\n\nAs Aazkue lifted his left hand to begin manifesting the crimson light of the miraculous manas that outpoured the very nature of Sol unto his body — his inherited strength, right to make him worthy of the title Champion — an azure sparkle of `lucidity` Glittered alight, even hidden within the deepest recesses of spirit. He was beginning to recollect in slight, the memories withheld from him in his centuries-long slumber, as the revitalized root, in the absence of the fury of the Sun that burned all outwardly ties, began to sprout anew within his body.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓷𝓸𝔀, 𝓥𝓪𝓪𝔃𝓿𝓪!\"```\n\nA valorous cry, and one entirely lacking of the traces of cowardice which Aazkue long wished to discard. His voice rang with clarity, and, strangely, without the crimson warmth of the `Sun of Purity,` He felt... More Awake, Than he had ever been. He lacked strength in either of his legs, and yet he felt stronger to stand than he ever had before in his life. His body was damaged, scarred, and broken, and yet he felt more enabled than he ever had, in the past—" }, { "author": "VEITVAAZVA", "message": "But the beastly man before him would not stand down. All logic and reasoning, all mindfulness of the words of warning of those around him — of the taunts of Tabby, of the panic of Cumhall, and even the cries of Kuouo, the one outsider he had grown to trust, even if only in slight — eluded his sheer Instinct. His judgment, marred and corrupted by hundreds of years in the Exile's Watch. His Bloodlust, And one that thirsted to crush not only Outsiders, But Aazkue, Too. They — the outsiders — and him — that damned monster, Aazkue — were the origins of all fault and pain within this sorry hamlet. They were to blame for every trouble that had and would befall the First Floor, and would only further grow to corrupt the hallowed nature of the Ark.\n\nIt was his duty to the Ezer to exterminate them.\n\nThe tenebrous of the Eclipse Prayer which __Veit__vaazva incanted died in its enshadowing property, receding into the ground at the elder's feet as naught but the magical presence of his gleaming, golden eyes were left in the wake of his presence. The harrowing presence of hostility that emanated about the beastly man spiked in ferocity, as each and every muscle in his body flared, his legs shifting to better grip the earth beneath himself—\n\n*As he charged forth, so to take the life of the first enemy before him — Tabby.\n\nShe was the only thing between him and the monster which needed slain, here.\n\nYet as he continued forth, Tabby would, no doubt, bring retaliation. Not only her, but so too Aazkue, who, himself, would directly seek to intercept __Veit__vaazva, fast in his approach. A powerful wave of destructive energy would blast forth from the guardian's right hand, seeking to knock __Veit__vaazva from his feet.* But he would not falter. Backing his approach with a dreadful, superhuman strength, even such a powerful attack as coordinated by a child of the sun could not stop him in his charge forward." }, { "author": "Ve", "message": "There was the fight, there was the dispute. There was their ideologies, their emotions, displayed in flagrance upon the canvas of battle, their attacks the stroke of brushes that coated the world around themselves with the color of their souls. There was held what was to be the settling of their dispute — a gruesome display of strength and violence which would change the dynamic of the First Floor for all eternity. There was held their attention, and their scrying eyes, and there was held the clashing forces of a reviled Floor Guardian, a besmirched lord of gold, and the outsiders and exiles who so sullied the name of the Ark.\n\nA wonderful play. One that granted allure to the dissonant, and one that bequeathed a sense of intricacy to the utterly base and abominable. Their woes on display, and the history that they carried with them on open display. Even a man of such careful refinement as himself could find intrigue to be found, on this utterly tumultuous stage.\n\nAnd in the shadow of the cacophany, in the sole place unseen by the prying eyes of each and every member present in the scene of the chaotic battleground, there emerged Ve. \nIn the one place that noone would think to look, nor a place that one Could Look—\n\n*The shadow of the guardian, himself, Aazkue.**\n\nIn his right hand, he wielded devious magicks, soon to bind and tangle each and every soul here.\nIn his left hand, he wielded a dagger, soon to pierce the throat of the hapless son of the sun.\n\nAnd yet, neither were tangible, neither truly existed; both were instruments of metaphor, either of his palms filled with naught but his intent and his wit.\n\nIn his right hand, he wielded the magicks of manipulation.\nIn his left hand, he wielded the dagger of divulgement.\n\n`Now, we approach the climax.`\n_ _\n\nAs __Veit__vaazva roared forth, and as Aazkue retaliated, Ve waited patiently, and withdrew from his cloak the item that would make all things here change.\n\nA helm. A single, piddling little helm. The helm of a Knight of Sol.\n\n```fix\n\"𝙈𝙮 𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙, 𝘼𝙖𝙯𝙠𝙪𝙚.\"\n\"I understand that now may not be the most appropriate of times,\"```\n\nHe spoke, cutting through the clamor and the uproar of the battlefield, his elegant, smooth, and yet austere voice ringing with the chimes of absolute clarity from directly behind the guardian. \n\nThe one to whom he spoke — Aazkue — could hardly believe his senses as he heard the origin of the sound, his eye briefly peeking over his shoulder in sheer shock of Ve's presence.\n\n```fix\n\"But I have brought news most urgent to you, of all people.\"```\n\n__Veit__vaazva grew closer and closer in approach, his ferocity unbroken, and his determination unshaking. The Solar Guardian released yet another blast of fiery air toward the monstrous man who approached, but his fascination, shock, and worry was still held solely by the man behind him — Ve.\n\n```fix\n\"The final embers of the Knights of Sol...\"```\n\nHe raised the brass helm which he earlier withdrew, raising it for the guardian to clearly see with his own two eyes. And within the helm, at the very cusp of its brazen form, was Blood.\n\n```fix\n\"...𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.\"```" }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "_ _\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n_```diff\n- Ｔｈｅ　ｗｈｏｌｅ　ｗｏｒｌｄ　ｆｅｌｔ　ａｓ　ｔｈｏｕｇｈ　ｉｔ　ｈａｄ　ｃｅａｓｅｄ　ｔｏ　ｂｅ． -```_\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n_ _\n```ahk\n: ʰᵘᵐᵐᵐ... :```\n\n`Uezekor - Roko - Vuerre`\n\n`I remember now a distant memory.`\n`I remember the day which I determined who I was, and who I was going to be.`\n`When even as fearful as I was, I stepped forth, into eternity...`\n\n```ahk\n: ʰᵘᵐᵐᵐ... :```\n\nThe azure root crawls its eternal crawl across the guardian's flesh, and the air goes deathly chill.\n\n`Zeikevesh - Zekor - Reitzei`\n\n`I remember now a fond memory.`\n`Of his voice, calling out to me—`" }, { "author": "???", "message": "```fix\n\"𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚢, 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛?\"\n\"𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎—... 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚍, 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝?\"\n\n\"𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.\"```" }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "`You cried too, brother.`\n`When noone else could see,`\n`you mourned for her embrace that ceased to be.`\n\n```ahk\n: ʰᵘᵐᵐᵐ... :```\n\nTears well in the guardian's eyes, as he furls his fists vengefully.\n\n`Ktotezue - Zeitez and Vozre, to be wedlock`\n\n`I remember now, a recent memory.`\n`Of his sword, extended down to me,`\n`Metal to my neck, and his eyes... I cannot see.`\n`He chokes back tears, and begins to breathe—`" }, { "author": "???", "message": "```fix\n\"𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒚...?!\"```" }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "```ahk\n: ʰᵘᵐᵐᵐ... :```\n\nThe dominant, azure glow of the blue root overshadows the crimson vestiges of individuality. Aazkue begins to stand.\n\n`Kaaze - Vaarektaak...`\n\n`I remember now, my most terrible memory—`\n`As he departed, as he could not bear to see—`\n`my form, decrepit, in misery—`\n`I wondered, and I wondered, and I wondered, and I wondered and I wondered, and I wondered, and I wondered, and I wondered, and I wonder`\n__`When I die, who will remember me?`__\n\n`...Ukue`\n\n_ _\n```ahk\n: ʰᵘᵐᵐᵐ... :```\n\n\n`Hatred.`\n\n`Hatred that burns hotter than the flames of individuality.`\n`Hatred that burns stronger than the draw of one's need for unity.`\n`Hatred that burns to consume even its own origin.`\n\n`I think... I understand, now.`\n\n_ _\n`I understand hate, and I understand misery.`\n`But even more, I now understand the meaning of her words.`\n\n```cs\n 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.\"```\n\n`And even more,`\n`I understand what I was meant to be.`\n\n```diff\n- \"𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓐𝓪𝔃𝓴𝓾𝓮.\"\n- \"𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓸𝓶.\"```\n\n`I hate, and I hate, and I hate,`\n\nThe guardian clutches his right hand close to his chest, and stood untrembling on both of his two ruined feet, he stares to the sky.\n\n`But I cannot hate you.`\n`I cannot hate you, any of you,`\n`because you, all, are like me...`\n\n...And an aura of all-burning, all-scorching Crimson* Erupts from his right hand. \nHis body catches alight, and a searing flame that blinds all those that behold it breaks forth, engulfing, in its all-reaching light, the very sky and horizon of the First Floor.\n\n*```diff\n- Ｉｎ　ｔｈｅ　ｗａｋｅ　ｏｆ　ｈｉｓ　ｃｒｉｍｓｏｎ　ｌｉｇｈｔ，　ｉｔ　ｆｅｌｔ　ｌｉｋｅ　ａ　ｎｅｗ　ｗｏｒｌｄ　ｗａｓ　ｍａｄｅ　ｔｏ　ｂｅ. -```" }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "```\n...Beep!```\n\nAs Aazkue's light blinded their senses, the exiles seemed to be carried upon the winds of the flame that erupted forth from the Solar Guardian's form of pure light. They are whisked away to locations far, far from the foot of the Ascent to the Second Floor, the atmosphere tangibly shifting — as though a Greater link* Had been severed. \n\nThe outsiders, however, would not be moved in such a manner. Rather, as they struggled to stay with their footing within the wake of the Guardian's tremendous miracle, they hear a subtle `'beep'` Chime from each of the satchel-shaped devices on their persons — the V.A.R.E.T, which seemed to have some sort of safeguard against the otherworldly influence before them. They would not be transferred, as were the exiles, and would instead stay as firmly grounded as they could keep themselves, in the wake of the guardian..." }, { "author": "AAZKUE", "message": "*A star of individuality is born.\n\nAazkue's form is turned into the kindling for the uprising of a greater entity — a Star,* And one of tremendous heat. A heat that burned not the flesh, but Bonds. The bonds of oaths, the bonds that held the Exiles to the First Floor—\n\n*And the bonds of blue that sealed the gate of the Ascent to the Second Floor.\n\nThe star rises, and continues to rise, its crimson inferno rising high, high into the sky above, searing the green of the false-sky above into a hue of deep red.\nAnd, below, there is seen nothing — Aazkue, the exiles, the debris and remainder of the root that raveled about the tower... Gone.\n\nThe way to the Second Floor has been opened.*" } ]	282.5	5,767
493	2022-06-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Indeed, as Veitvaazva rushes forward & immediately succeeding Aazkue's attack, Tabby places her crossbow completely at the ready as the powerful man bursts towards her with intent to kill. To say she didn't flinch would be a lie — it was unnatural for her to have to react to a man THAT Strong with THAT Much speed coming straight towards her — yet remains steadfast in her plan to just distract. If anyone were to attack Vaazva directly, it would be better if she provided suppressing fire so that, even if a bit, some actual progress could be made to halt the monster.\n\nTabby, with her loaded bolt enchanted with the cantrip Light Takes aim, firing the bolt Directly next to Vaazva's head, intentionally missing the shot. It wouldn't matter if it connected — the man is too strong to simply get hit by it. No, instead, her plan was to Blind Vaazva temporarily at the least.\n\nHis eyes are wreathed in magic, right? What if, for a moment, we tried to take away that ability to see? What would happen?\n\n_ _\nThe cat's Extra Attack Kicks in, another magical bolt loading; this one Not Enchanted with the same arcana as the previous, instead remaining as plain as the crossbow can make it. In the second after the bolt would whiz by Veitvaazva's head, she would make another attack onto his left Kneecap, using Light As a distraction, hoping & praying that by taking away the ability to see for a moment that she would be able to land a handicapping blow unto the man, trying to cease his advance by any means necessary. \n\nA voice from behind causes Tabby to Also Look over her shoulder, failing to stand at the ready as. .. I know that voice. \n\nThe voice of the man from the plaza, who was... Looking for someone. \"Wh-\"—\n\n— After the firing of the second bolt & wave of solar power, the Shield Guardian Suddenly rushes forward and breaks ranks to do so in an attempt to make up for Tabby's sudden confusion, readying it's fists to meet Vaazva on the field of battle. Yet, as it swings towards the man's abdomen, it is engulfed in a bright white light, same as anyone else nearby, sending its programming spinning as it attempts to correct what previously didn't need correcting in its approach. It seems that by overloading its sensors, the automatons that Tabby has surrounded herself in simply do not function correctly; trying and trying to regain any sense of sight as it swings wildly.\n\n_ _\nTabby raises her arm in an attempt to cover her eyes from the sudden burst of the arcane, desperately wishing she could behold such a spectacle as she does so. She closes her eyes, grits her teeth, and drops her crossbow so to add more defense to her poor eyes. As the brilliant aura relieves itself from the duty of burning her eyeballs, she opens them once more — flipping down her protective goggles in the hopes that they might take some of the slack. Watching as the all-powerful Guardian ascends to the skies, reminding her of stories she had once heard not too long ago. \n\nThe magic-wielder has only one thing to say aloud to Cumhall & the goat.\n\n\"What... The hell was that??\"" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He was powerless to intervene, his injuries far too great to risk, he could not lift a finger to harm them keenly aware of his own mortality.\nHis mind harkens back to the name he had taken Cumhall, man of myth, founder of the great Fianna and father of the greatest warrior to grace the isles, as he looked now upon the demi gods before him he wondered how much of those tales were true.\nVeitvaazva still had yet reveal his hand, his strength still a mystery Cumhall would stay rooted firmly in place until...\n\n ```\"The final embers of the Knights of Sol... Have been extinguished by the intruders before you\"```\n\nWe are all going to die, reduced to ashes upon the ground without so much as a wind to carry our remains to the wider world\n\nHe had only one thing now on his mind; an exit strategy, perhaps if they made it back down to the ground gate, maybe they could use the VARET to escape.\nHe was not sure how Aazkue would react to the news, but he did not have high hopes for a diplomatic solution seeing as his entire body burst into flame.\nRUN The word looped in his mind as he watched the exiles be whisked away, but still they remained and he would be powerless to act, his first instinct of course was to run. \nThe blue root that had obscured the doorway to the second floor was uncovered. He had to run His prayers had been answered and an exit strategy unfolded before him but his feet felt as if they had been nailed to the ground, he could not will himself forwards, instead he looked to his companions, the 2 who remained.\nThe cat will be fine, she is uninjured and has her automata, but the bandit..\nKuouo had a broken leg, he would incapable of making haste, he cursed himself silently for caring about someone who was practically a stranger, if he just ran now he would be clear of danger and could complete his mission..\n\nHe ran\n\nBut he did not run forwards, he ran backwards, skidding to a stop beside Kuouo.\n\n```diff\n- \"Listen we don' have much time to argue this place is a sinkin' ship and i don' know wha' happened to the exiles but we can' stick around t'find out. If we stay we're dead, at his hands directly or caught in the crossfire whos t'say but that don' matter, we gotta run for that tower.\" -\n```\nHe grabbed his right arm tearing it free from the socket.\n```diff\n- \"You gotta trust me now, i don' need two arms t'run but you need two legs\" -\n```\nHe clicked through a series of menus on a digital screen concealed on the bicep, and the arm sprang open, re arranging itself, a number of the internal components simply dropped to the ground- a number of hidden tools, lockpicks and the sort - some sort of hidden weapon - and the various thrusters which allowed him to make rocket propelled strikes.\nHe held out the cybernetic to Kuouo.\n```diff\n- \"Now this should attatch to your leg and basically do all the heavy liftin' for ya, it's a bit heavy an' akward but it'll be alot better than tryna run on a broken leg.\" -\n```\n\nTo each their own, the bandit refused his help, something he thought may happen but he had at least tried, now was the time for escape.\n```diff\n- \"Hurry up drone!\" -\n```\nHe did not wait around, scooping up his belongings and sprinting into the tower, he would look back briefly at Aazkue, he did not know what would happen to Aazkue or to the watch but, it did not matter, he had a job to do, he pushed down those feelings and made his way up the staircase to the second floor." }, { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone whirred and beeped, taking a last glance at the gleaming star of Aazkue, and taking a scan, before trundling its way through the doorway and up the ascent." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "The cat reaches her hand up for one of her automatons to hold — seeing as the Guardian was a few paces further away by now, the Defender takes her hand, slinging her back over its shoulders and taking great care to scoop up her crossbow, additionally preparing to move onto the Second Floor.\n\nIn Tabby's ear, a soft hum — audible only to her — emanates. \n\nThe Abyss Watch.\n\nThe artificer hastily pulls out the device and opens up in her palm, yet the goopy form of Cadwynn Does not manifest this time. It seems that — although magical — the device has two modes. One to bring forth the \"\"Avatar\"\", and one for simple-yet-effective Paging With no way for individual watches to respond or send information back. In this instance the latter is demonstrated.\n\nNo... What?\n\nRelayed to her on said screen — in Dwarvish — is a very simple command. An order to return to headquarters as soon as possible. It seems that on-high has decided her expedition in provided them with more liability than the fruit it bore. If we continue further knowing full-well that we are woefully unprepared, it could result in coming to terms with our __mortality__. She thinks. Even though I have my golems with me.\n\nShe softly sighs, twiddling with the watch until she closes it. How frustrating! How unfair! The spellcaster sends the signal to the Defender & Guardian to move in towards the Ascent, following the lead of both Kuouo and Cumhall, although a few paces behind of course." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "As the frontal gates to the greattower that was the Ascent to the Second Floor were left open, the outsiders to the Vektet would be able to, in haste, make their way into its midst. The atmosphere about them shifts from the warmth of the warmth of the Star of Individuality outside to one of a colder, distant nature — strange, ethereal, and lucid, as they found themselves stood atop a familiar cylindrical stone, engraved across its entire surface with strange runes and the like. \n\nA magic energy of a cold and nebulous nature fluxed about the group, as the ground beneath them begins to glow brilliantly with an azure light, one-in-the-same as the glow as the Divine Root, and the very teleportative magicks that brought them into the Vektet, in the first place. There were no stairs to rise, and, indeed, it was identical to the Ground Gate of their entry — no more than a hollow, open room, with a cylindrical stone at its center. And so, in the moment that they stepped atop the stone and activated its divine properties, the group would begin to whisk away, transported, to a location entirely foreign.\n\nAs their forms begin to lose tangibility and whisk into nothingness, only to be remanifested and located elsewhere, they each cannot shake the thought that they have, in their own ways, changed the course of the Vektet's Eternal society in a way that would shake it to its very foundation. Something had occurred that had never been seen before, due to their intervention — the breaking of a Divine oath.\n\n```beep...\nBeep...```\n_ _\n\n...Yet, as they were certain they would be transported to the Second Floor,\nEach of their individual V.A.R.E.T devices begin to beep and glow, initiating a synchronization process without any consent. The device whirrs with a strange technological hum, its interior devices incapable of being stopped, as the small interface on the side of the satchel which contained its inner workings began to flash a multitude of colors. The teleportation process was interrupted, a 'checkpoint' formed, as each of the V.A.R.E.Ts directly interfere with the destination of the Ascent to the Second Floor's teleportation.\n\nThey find themselves not in a location entirely foreign, but again at the foot of the Vektet — on Earth, Familiar, yet made distant in the time that they spent within the Vektet.\n\nSo ends the adventure of the three, only to be continued at an unknown time in the future...\n\n```QUEST 1 CONCLUDED```" } ]	539	2,465
542.625	2022-05-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "Within the Exile's Watch, there lies an unnamed church that has not seen mass for many-hundreds of years. Construed of a marbled, white stone akin to that which forms the walls about the Embrace of Sol, the church remains quiet, its hushed and stilled interior still supernaturally illumined by the faint, miraculous manas that once resided within the First Floor so many thousands of years ago.\n\nThere are no pews as one would typically expect; rather, there are dozens-upon-dozens of indentations on the floor, each individually representative of a place for one to kneel on their hands and knees in prayer. \n\nOpposite to the entrance and some distance from it, the church is abruptly terminated by a smooth, out-of-place wall constructed of a chalky, grey marble.\n\nUpon entry to the mostly-vacant church, Tabby would be met with the auric presence of its stilled atmosphere, a delicate warmth uncharacteristic of the rest of the First Floor trickling from the windows and throughout its midst. The greenish light, upon passage through the tinted windows, was hued a most brilliant gold, as if to imitate the faded light of a glorious sun long-past. Their false rays descend upon the manifold places-of-prayer scattered throughout the midst of the church, empty, yet still holding of a multitude of secrets.\n\nFlanking Tabby, alongside each wall, were the Gargantuan stone statues of two individuals, each clad in armor. \n\nTo the left, one who wore an unboastful set of armor with undefined and subtle traits — vaguely akin to Otaaraa's armor, were she to look closely — with accents of polished, untarnished silver alongside its form. It stood tall and proud, and even unmaintained, was in remarkable condition; as if it had been stopped in the very flow of time, itself. \n\nTo the right, there was a statue that brandished the emblazoned, proud armor akin to one seasoned and proven on the battlefield, its traits strong and defining, accented with a rusted, brass-gold mixture of metals — quite like the Splintered Knights within the Embrace of Sol — that had seen much ware for their age. Unlike the statue to her left, it was not only out of repair, but it too seemed so that the statue had been Purposefully Damaged: its head had been torn from its form, and both of its hands remained cracked and crumbled, struck with blunt force a multitude of time as so to break the statue's once-glorious form.\n\nThere seemed to be slabs at the foot of each statue that once would contain engraved texts describing each of the two statues' nature; yet, now, the slabs remained only crumbled and worn away, any text they once had now rendered unreadable due to age and damage.\n_ _\n\nMost notably above all, There was a man, sat in a windowsill to the right of Tabby, faced away from her, With his arms folded. He appears relaxed, yet is not unconscious — and for now, he has not seen her. A most peculiar, and perhaps worrisome aura clung to the man, as if from an entity with a most malevolent nature; however, its energy was still too vague to make an immediate assumption. Whether he was an enemy, guardian, or a visitor of the church, was up for her to determine." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Walking into the church, she immediately takes notice of the odd wall — the statues, which she nearly attempts to cast Mending On, before deciding there might be a more pressing matter at this very moment.\n\nThe aura of that man irked her, and indeed everything she had seen thus far was basically out to kill her... But would it really be that fair of an assumption to make that this encounter is no different? Surely that would be unfair... She makes no attempt to hide herself away from this man; he seems to just be minding his own business, as is she. No, rather, she kneels before the broken statue in an attempt to make out the faintest of words on the plaque, before peering over and actually speaking to this fellow. If this were anything like Otaaraa or the Knights, the man would clearly already know of her existence in the room, right..?\n\n\". . . What happened to this place? It's... Emptier than other churches I've seen.\" Surely this isn't a mistake.. Then again, someone in a church that has long since been abandoned rings only a few alarm bells. And, should things go awry, Tabby could simply start spell-casting as she always does when in doubt. Grease or Sleep would do the trick, yet she doesn't actively ready the spell. There is no combat, and thus no Ready Action needs to be taken. It is nothing more than a thought." }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"```\n\nThe strange man sat in the windowsill unhurriedly turned to view the one who spoke to him. Arms still folded, yet his face now revealed — though his mouth was covered over some sort of bandana — he peered at the form of the strange individual who interrupted his respite, with a somewhat groggy expression on his face. His features were describable as plain and common, yet his eyes had a fierce sort of tone behind them. Just by looking at the man, she could determine that he'd certainly be the type to have a multitude of stories to tell, and many more dreadful ones than good.\n\n```diff\n- \"Never seen a mug like yours...\"```\n\n—he spoke in the Vektet's native language, albeit with a strange accent, much unlike the few other people she had heard speak within her ventures. The RASWALT, nonetheless, picks up on his speech, and translates it accurately.\n\n```diff\n- \"Watch send ya...? Nah... Someone like you can't have been born down here.\"\n- \"Guess that means my little asylum is still safe, huh...\"```\n_ _\n\nThe man spoke discreetly, sharply squinting at her face and features, as he spoke to himself in a monotone, low tone of speech. His voice was slightly raspy, though not excessively sharp, husky, and above all, calm. He tilted his head slightly after he seemed to clear a few suspicions, averting his gaze back towards the golden-stained window beside himself.\n\n```diff\n- \"Well, it sure ain't much of a story to tell.\"\n\n- \"Last of those who prayed at this church are all died out. That's all there is to it...\"```\n\nHe gave a harsh, yet straightforward response to the question, peering beyond the stained window, with his attention apparently elsewhere.\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"\n- \"You wouldn't happen to be a fresh exile, would you...\"\n- \"Don't believe I've ever seen your species before...\"\n- \"And anyone from the Fifth Floor would well know what this building is...\"```\n\nHe murmured to himself, listing off several factors in a process-of-elimination. \n\n```diff\n- \"Then, last guess... You're not from 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, are you?\"\n- \"Another foolhardy adventurer from beyond the Ground Gate... I suppose it is about time the cycles shift.\"\n- \"No human, though... And yet you've managed a way to speak the home language of this Ark. Very unusual...\"\n- \"Tell me... What is it, the language that you speak in your homeland?\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Watch.. Asylum.. And a bunch of dead church worshippers. A couple things that are very much out of context to the cat — but nonetheless, she attempts to commit them to memory so that she could get to the bottom of things a bit later on. \n\nShe steps forward, keeping a respectable distance but just walking around to the other side of the statue, listening in to the man as he talks. Something about the fifth floor and the ground gate she came from.\n\n\"I'm a tabaxi,\" She replies, \".. An artificer from Ten-Towns in Icewind Dale — some place far, far away from here.\" She explains, confirming indirectly that she is not from the Vektet itself, and very much an unaware outsider. \"Brief stint as a guild merchant that ended in disaster.. Ended up taking a few jobs to try and make it big on my own Magic here, magic there... Astral Seas... And when it was all said and done, I came here.\" Wait. - \" Well, not Here-here, but to the place outside this tower. Saw a listing, thought it sounded interesting and took the plunge..\"\n\n_ _\nUpon the question of languages, the cat thinks for a moment - it's clear that she's not exactly the best person to ask for that knowledge, as her phrasing is rather unique. \"There's... A ton of languages I can think of. Let's see, here...\" She unfurls her paw, counting them off, \"There's Draconic, Gnomish, Deep, Abyssal, Celestial, to name a few... I Personally Have studied Sylvan and Dwarvish. Would've been hard to communicate to other guild members without those under my belt. But, for the most part, I speak Common.\" She pauses and puts her hand to her chin, turning to look at the other statue. \"Common is like ah... English, I think it's called. Similar enough to that I can understand it, but the people talking sound a little Off.\"\n\n\"The people who organized this expedition gave me a device that helps translate what I hear, and what I say. It's pretty impressive that it's in such a small package..\" She speaks very plain and bluntly, not putting much thought into the intonation of her speech, even though it is in no way threatening, due to her dump stat being Charisma. Tabby is rather at ease talking to this complete stranger, If he wanted to tear my head off, he would've done it already.. Right?\n\n\"What happened to the statue..\" She says quietly, before finally turning her attention to the man — even though he is turned away from her. \"What's the fifth floor like..?\" She questions, attempting to gain even an inkling of information due to her natural curiousity." }, { "author": "?", "message": "The man seemed unconcerned by Tabby's description of her origin-land, and the many languages' names that were far, far from familiar to him. Tens-Town, Icewind Dale, Draconic, Gnomish, Deep, Abyssal, Celestial... Yeah, not a word was familiar to him. To be perfectly honest, they sounded like the names of places and languages that he, many years ago, once would read in the short-stories' section of an almanac... Those were the days. As she continued further, he continued in his distant, yet vaguely entertained mien — it was anything but boring to hear such fantastical vernacular, and the man had an unlimited supply of time to kill — yet was not thoroughly invested, until...\n\n```diff\n- \"English, you say... Huh.\"```\n\nHe perked a brow, his callous gaze shifting towards Tabby. He, early in her speech, swiftly came to an understanding that she was using some sort of odd device to establish communications between the two — for he spoke in the language of the Vektet, one which would certainly be unfamiliar to an outsider to the superstructure's midst — yet her mentioning of the language English Would drastically change how he approached this conversation. He spoke, and this time her V.A.R.E.T would not echo back his words; for the man spoke, indeed, in English.\n\n```diff\n- \"Been quite too many years since I've spoken this tongue... Quite too many years for my liking.\"\n- \"So it seems that the world you come from is not all too different from mine...\"```\n\nHe paused, his disinterested gaze shifting to one of a familiarized nature. Yet still, he maintained his emotional distance, his tone still monotone, dry, and dreary.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"To think that the same language would be spoken across such vast existential gaps... Almost laughable, as if to signify some sort of cosmic irony.\"```\n\nHe deeply clenched his gloved right hand, and a deep, potent, yet cold anger roused from within his eyes. The malevolent aura that clung to his figure sharply piqued, yet he gave no signs of hostility, his arms still folded and his body still rested within the windowsill. He described it as laughable, yet seemed almost infuriated by the connotations her statement held.\n\n```diff\n- \"Well, well... I suppose there's no need to hide it now...\"\n- \"You and I are cut from the same cloth... Intruders to this great Vektet; an Ark, of sorts...\"\n\n- \"Mmm...\"\n- \"Still... I'm not one typically wise to give answers... And nor am I ever wanting to give away information to those I haven't a clue who are.\"```\n\nHe raised his chin upwards, his gaze now shifted slightly downwards towards the tabaxi, his posture and tone reserved, as he initially refused her an answer to her questions.\n\n```diff\n- \"Though...\"\n- \"From one pilferer of a divine domain to another... You and I might just be able to strike a deal. What says you...?\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"The multiverse is a vast expanse.\" Tabby replies, attempting to speak common, but unable to fight the VARET should it override her. \"It would only make sense that there be repetition at some point.. Worlds that stray far from the one that you can presently observe. Worlds where, maybe, you - or someone you know - never existed, and worlds where even the most basic of society was ever created, to name a few.\" \n\nSo, he too is someone who came in and.. Seems to have never found the way out. Or, maybe never bothered to find it. But, he knows so much... \"A deal...\" She says softly, almost seeming to just mull it over, not sure what would happen should she agree. \"What kind of arrangement would you desire? I don't think I've much to offer, aside from a fraction of the arcane knowledge I've studied and honed over the years. Or, stories.\"\n\nOn her person are only a few visibly magic items — her gauntlets, and her armor, which glint a slight gold & silver, respectively, emanating their colors. But, she would obviously be unwilling to give those away should the deal take a more \"Earthly possession\" Turn. After all, they are the reason she's still kicking. No, I can't give those away. The bags on her belt appear to just be harmless pouches filled with nothing of note — perhaps not even a coin in their depths. That is to say, they look completely devoid of anything at all." }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Oh, believe me...\"\n- \"I've heard plenty about what resides beyond a single world... The ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ that crawl in the darkness of the void...\"\n- \"...Trillions of living entities, writhing, like degenerate insects...\"```\n\nHe spoke, his gaze averted out the window, responding in revolt to Tabby's explanation of the multiverse. Indeed, he, likely being from beyond both Tabby and the world of this Earth, itself, was one who had come to know the Infinity Of the cosmos. Endless realities, sprawled throughout multiverses that extended for infinite infinities upon end... And so too did he know of their horrors. The mere thought invoked the disgusting, crawling sensation of unease across his entire body, the malevolence that clings to his figure irritated, his umbrage unconcealable.\n\n```diff\n- \"...\"```\n\nWith a pause, and a slight `hmph,` The man relented the thought, and so his presence eased.\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm... What I require of you is nothing so direct as goods or information. No...\"\nThe man paused, briefly staring down at his gloved right hand.\n- \"Right... I need someone who can move beyond this church.\"```\n\nHe oncemore lifted his gaze out the window, glaring at the landscape beyond its midst, hued yellow by the tint of the window. Folding his arms and tucking his right hand out-of-sight, he closed his eyes, collecting and organizing his speech to follow.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"A filthy pilferer of a divine realm is all I am... No more, no less. And so too are you. You and I are of the same cloth, I said.\"\n\n- \"Our goals are very similar — to reach the end of the First Floor. You... To continue climbing. Me... To leave this infernal structure, and to die a simple death, as any man would.\"\n\n- \"To do that, there is only one method. Kill the King of this Floor. The abominable Root-Crown who resides at the foot of the empyreal tower.\"\n\n- \"Oh, how many men — no... Pilferers, — I have seen, attempting in their feeble might to overpower that monster. All dead. Lost, without remains to bury. Directly, I would not stand a chance. And as for you... Well, let's say your fate is as certain as the last of those who tried.\"\n\n\n\n- \"I've planned years. Dozens of years... Decades. A method to kill that monster. Planned, down to the very last jot and tittle.\"\n\n- \"Except I am 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 bound to the foundation of this church... It is an asylum, of sorts. As for why... It matters not.\"```\n\nHe glared back at Tabby, reaching the pinnacle of his statements. —The essence of his plan, and the deal that he mentioned previously.\n\n```diff\n- \"So I would have you act as an agent... You follow my plan to assassinate that beast, down to the very last detail, and I will not only deliver you from this Floor, but I will provide you with the information I have gleaned, over my decades-long wait.\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "She listens intently to the words of this man. \"I see..\" An interesting proposition - one where no one seems to lose. Except, this man's aura.. It bothers her, yet she can't put her finger on why this man seems so... Angry? Evil? There ought to be a reason why he was trapped in here in the first place, right? And the way he waved it off is suspicious to say the least..\n\nExcept, Tabby isn't a terrible person. She bows her head and speaks. \"I don't see a reason not to. I'm game.- I just need a few hours to work on some equipment in this town — hoping there is a smith so that I can work on my blades and my defender..\" Obviously, the defender is not present, as it is currently powered down in her bag, but.. The point stands.\n\n\"If you need a way out, I have an... Unorthodox method to leave this place, but judging on the magic binding you seem to have, I'm not sure it would work as expected, and the other side would spell doom more than whatever plan you may have. Definitely not simple, but an option. But, this brings me to my next issue. If I do as you say and destroy the king, what would stop you from simply leaving and not giving the promised information? If the crown binds you and it gets destroyed, you would be able to just... Run.\" No weaseling out of that one.\n\nShould she be allowed a few hours to work, Tabby would end one of her infusions while working, transferring it into another piece of gear currently stowed away in her bag. The gauntlet can only power so many things at once before it runs out of juice, after all. This guy probably wouldn't allow Tabby to spend a whole Eight hours, but she could at least work as fast as possible.\n\nShe doesn't show it, but the repeated use of Pilferer Is starting to get horribly frustrating. Tabby is not a thief, just a scientist! She's never stolen anything!\n\nWell, except for the sword that she just took off of Otaaraa's dead body, but... He couldn't possibly know of that, right?" } ]	574	4,341
780.25	2022-05-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"```\n\nThe man grumbled tonelessly upon hearing her response. There were multiple things to take in, here, yet there were only a handful of aspects truly worth remembering for him For one — she possessed a method outside of the Vektet... Good. That much he expected; the Calling That enshrouded him seemed to suggest such. His intuition enabled through that Aura, though dulled from its razor-sharp edge by him merely being Present Within the Vektet, was still sensitive enough to tell him that much. \n\nThen, she began questioning. How troublesome. His folded arms shift, his clenched, gloved right hand oncemore peeking out into open sight once again.\n\n```diff\n- \"Save for some sort of twisted pleasure that comes from telling a lie... There is nothing for me to gain by doing that. Once that beast has been slain, I will reside here no longer. My only desire is to leave this forsaken Vektet... And, once I succeed, all information I have on its structure becomes forfeit in value. You needn't worry about such little details.\"```\n\nThe man clasped and unclasped his gloved right hand, the aura about him receding, ever-so-slightly, as he peered at her with what was a foundationally-chilling glare. The malevolence had all but entirely receded, yet He, himself, Grew significantly more intimidating, as he followed up with a single statement.\n\n```diff\n- \"But if you're still worried, I wouldn't mind making you swear 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬 in exchange for a covenant of veracity.\"```\n\n...He spoke, locking eyes with her, his demeanor shifting in entirety. Moments ago, he was a lax, carefree, and tired man, yet as he stared her straight in the eye, there was an unending, burning Fury Buried deep within his soul. His scarred face, though mostly expressionless, was roused with such a presence that he seemed almost downright frightening — indeed, his demeanor was almost akin to that of an interrogator, as strangely specific as such a character is.\n_ _\n\nThe man gives a low exhale, tucking his right hand back out of sight. His brief, intimidating nature vanished, as he stared back out the window, calmed. Yet as he calmed, that malevolent aura — strangely separate from his character itself — returned, its subtle, foul presence once again rearing its ugly head.\n\n```diff\n- \"The more pressing matter here is slaying that beast... Both of us will benefit from it, with or without any sort of deal.\"\n- \"So you're likely wondering... What's the plan?\"\n\n- \"...\"\n\n- \"Right... It's quite simple.\"\n- \"There's a... Man. A very influential man... One who I've been trying to get in contact with. Alas, I am entrapped here, I said.\"\n- \"He is... Very aggressive. Dangerous, even. And very influential in the First Floor. He... Needs eliminating, put simply.\"\n- \"Otherwise, I'd have no way to directly strike at the Root-Crown.\"\n\n- \"He's quite a hard person to miss. He goes by the name...\"```\n\nHe paused, squinting, as he gazed beyond the window, his teeth briefly clenched, before he continued to speak:\n\n```diff\n- \"Vaazva.\"```\n\nThe man, for the first time, unfolded his arms. Both of his hands were gloved, yet his left hand seemed to have quite an excessive amount of material atop it. It seemed as though there were two, if not three, layers of gloving atop it, and about his wrist was a thin silver chain that, quite literally, Chained The glove tight.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"Vaazva is a very tricky, dangerous, and incredibly violent man. He doesn't show it openly... Yet I've seen more than enough of his sickening deeds to justify my wrath.\"\n\n- \"Luckily, he tends to keep his guard down... He runs a bar, in fact. Further in this decrepit village, within the plaza... A bar that serves a drink that he has become addicted to.\"```\n\n He slowly uses that same left hand to reach into his pocket, withdrawing a small vial... A vial filled with Blood? Or, at the very least, what appeared to Be Blood.\n\n```diff\n- \"Therefore... It'd be quite easy to coax him into ingesting something that would end his life.\"\n- \"I believe you see what I'm getting at... Right?\"```\n\nHe held the vial out, within her reach, yet would not release it, until she seemed compliant in the plan." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"I think I do, yes.\" She nods her head, preparing to agree to the terms and looking around for a moment, remembering something as she looks at the out-of-place wall. Unfortunately for this man, Tabby is not a shoot-first-ask-later kind of person. There's a little more to be uncovered here.\n\n\"I have a few more questions, though.\" She replies, just deciding to go with it. \"The wall, here.. Why is it different from the others? What is behind this wall?\" She points her finger at it too, just in case it wasn't abundantly clear already what she was talking about. \"Additionally, what would the terms of a covenant be? If you were the one making the terms, I would need time to myself to pick it apart.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't want to be shirked into a deal that gives me the short end of the stick.- Oh, right, one second..\" As the man attempts to intimidate her, Tabby rises to the challenge, seemingly not as afraid as maybe she should be because of the aura. As she speaks, Tabby begins to move her arms around a bit, her gauntlet starting to shine harmlessly. She begins speaking strange words — in the aforementioned Sylvan — as the individual lanes of the gauntlet start glowing with power. To this man, it is abundantly clear that Tabby is disturbed by something, and as such, she is performing the Verbal And Somatic Components of a spell right in front of him.\n\n_ _\nShe finishes with her arms spread almost entirely full, the hand wielding her precious gauntlet holds it at a 90 degree bend at the elbow, upwards and facing the man. It begins to beep as a sort of Dowsing machine, as Tabby casts _Detect Magic_ At 1st level in attempt to get to the bottom of things. \"Sorry about that,\" She confesses, bringing the gauntlet back down to her side, it still beeping like radars that the man may or may not be familiar with. \"Force of habit from earlier adventurers.\"\n\nThis spell would relay information onto an LED screen, attempting to dissect what was going on magically within 30 feet of the cat, and attempting to deduce it as one of the schools of magic. Of course, with this strange Vektet, Tabby does not actively expect it to give her a proper readout, instead hoping to just see where this Aura Originates from. If it were to originate from under the building, it likely would not detect anything at all due to the strict constraints around the tracking involved. \n\nSomething unhinges on her gauntlet, no doubt the readout, revealing a small green-and-lighter-green screen akin to that of those old wrist-watches." }, { "author": "?", "message": "The man's gaze weakens, and his eyes grow more tired. He gives a slight sigh as she continued releasing question-after-question; seriously, did she Really Think he had the time to answer all these questions...?\n\n...Well, he did, actually. All the time in the world, in fact. The man scowled, giving yet another sigh as he realized a contradiction even in his own logic. Still, he did not feel, at all, inclined to respond to Any Of the questions. The only real reason he would continue to answer was because he required a bit of assistance in his elaborated plan...\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"\nHe grumbled,\n- \"Behind that wall...\"\n- \"...\"```\n\n...He paused, taking a deep breath in.\n\n```diff\n- \"Well... I simply am not at liberty to say.\"\n- \"Maybe it's cursed... Maybe whatever behind it is cursed. Maybe even touching it would curse you. Maybe it's made out of a curse. But I can neither confirm nor deny any of this information...\"\n\n- \"...You do see what I'm getting at.\"```\n\nSo he spoke, elaborating on it slightly, yet remaining quite vague in all of his answers on his nature. As he had said before, he was not at liberty to speak on the true nature of the strange wall, construed of a different material as the rest of the church, and placed in such a strange location within its midst. It was, indeed, quite out-of-place, yet as the man seemed to be suggesting, there was the potential for something quite dangerous to be behind it.\n\n```diff\n- \"Ahhh, about that vow. That covenant...\"\n- \"Honestly, forget about it. I said some rash things.\"\n- \"Certainly you understand that being entrapped within this stone coffin for dozens of years... Is quite tolling on the mind. Indeed it is.\"```\n_ _\n\nThe man scratched at his right glove, dismissing his former statement entirely. While he seemed incredibly imperative in the moment, he seemed to quickly backpedal on his own statement the moment that he calmed. Perhaps it truly was born out of a moment of rashness.\n\nEyes still set beyond the window, he would not further glare at Tabby, as she casted the spell Detect Magic. Whatever sort of hex she was casting, he had no interest in. Or, rather, he couldn't Muster Interest in anything, at the moment.\n\n And, indeed, there would be much for her to find, enabled by the sight of the arcane. Several, compounded magical auras twirl in a dynamic flux throughout the church's atmosphere, their arcane energies almost encompassing the church in its whole. As she was given time to hone her aura-sensing arcane ability, she would note several interesting magical curiosities, which were as following:\n\nFirstly, the Strange stone wall That she had seen earlier, was, from top-to-bottom, encased in a potent magical aura that could be seen clear-as-day. Upon closer investigation, its school of magic was revealed to be that of Illusion. \n\nSecondly, the Vial which the man extended towards her, full of a blood-like liquid, Possessed a twofold-aura of magical nature. While subtle, it seemed that both the schools of Transmutation And Enchantment Were imbued into the liquid within the vial.\n_ _\n\nThirdly, beneath the man's Right glove, Tabby could clearly see a magical aura, and a powerful one, at that. The essence of the magical school of Abjuration Was contained beneath, in a most mysterious and exotic nature, as if it treaded between the boundaries of Abjuration and another school of magic, entirely.\n\nFourthly, Beneath the man's left glove, There is a most odd form of magic at play; one which Tabby may not be familiar with, at all. However, it seems to precariously tread the line between the arcane natures of the school of both Divination And Necromancy, Simultaneously. Similar to the aura beneath the man's left glove, there was an aura of identical nature, surrounding A dagger sheathed at the man's left hip." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Oh, of course... It's probably similar to a constant state of just endless falling. No ageing, no dying, no need to sleep or eat or drink. No..\" She nods her head as she quietly reads off of her screen — despite how old and simplistic it looks, it is bright enough to illuminate against the fur of her face, revealing only just the dark green of the background and nothing more to the man. To see such a thing would require him to actually look at the screen himself, but... He's currently a little far away.\n\nShe speaks absentmindedly to the stranger, fishing around in her Trinket Bag for something — kind of hard to pull something out when you're not focused entirely on conjuring the item in mind.\n\nFor the vial... It likely Was Blood — twisted and infused into some sort of concoction designed to either kill or remotely control whatever poor soul were to ingest it.. Not Exactly ideal... So, if not death... This could potentially be used to transfer the soul of whoever's blood is in said vial... Right? Tabby mentally checks her notes — those many years of schooling and experimentation coming into play for each of the following schools — yet can't find a conclusive answer. It would make Sense, but the way that this person is speaking leads her to believe it was simply blood mutated into a type of poison.\n\n_ _\nAbjuration. Seeing as it's imprinted on armor, it implies that not only is he well-defended physically, but also magically. If some sort of scuffle were to somehow break out, for example, Tabby would be outmatched. Not that she planned to do so. Just a passing thought as she checks off the list of things to note. But indeed, Tabby notes that it is likely a different type of the teaching than she might be used to, same with what is about to follow...\n\nThe left glove and the dagger. Since it's below the glove, it may well be some sort of imprinted tattoo or innate sense. Necromancy Implies that this man can either heal or outright destroy another person with nothing more than a touch, while Divination.... Well... That part is what remains a mystery. What use would such a school have to do with everything else around here, she wonders; admittedly those teachings are her weak spot when it comes to knowledge.\n\nAnd for the wall... \"Just floating... Forever, and ever, between states of reality, between alternate worlds that are always so far out of reach. Wondering what comes next.\" She finally materializes the item she was looking for — a small, wooden dice, carved very finely with her claws from a long bit of spruce, a tree prominent in her home region. \"I understand..\"\n\nWith those words out of her mouth, the mystery man is treated to the sight of Tabby hurling the dice at the illusory wall, fully expecting it to just disappear once it hit whatever illusion was present. After all, if the wall was cursed as the man claimed, why would she touch it herself?" } ]	765	3,121
579.142857	2022-05-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"```\n\nThe man grumbled as the tabaxi, analyzing her surroundings with Detect Magic, continued on. She continued through her odd digression on the terrifying nature of infinity, and the man seemed vaguely intrigued, his once-disinterested gaze directed beyond the golden window now partially presenting of the subtle figments of interest. There was a sense of familiarity to be found in what she said, and the process through which she described the cosmos was not unlike what he thought, many-some years ago. The words, to him, were familiar; he, himself, had once believe the world and macrocosm about it to themselves be doleful entities solely for the dreadful infinity that formed their firmaments. It seemed naught but a sea of empty darkness, ceaseless in nature, like an all-devouring void that extinguished all existence in its abysmal wake. To him, it was once terrifying for the very fact that he believed it to embody absolute Nothingness. Life, light, matter and time — all which delved into its fathomless depths would be lost, never to return, entrapped within the clutch of that very infinity of nothingness. \n\nOr so he once thought.\n\n```diff\n- \"Pilferers of our sort... Dabblers in the territory of the absolute... Those that seek the mysteries of the cosmos... All plucked from the same tree, so I discovered.\"\n- \"The call of the Claw of God that cascades from the fissure in the sky - it beckons those who dare stare unto the abyss.\"\n- \"Yes - so it's said. When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back.\n\n- \"...Ahhhhh, but inevitably, those that stare long enough, will one day learn... It is not the abyss that stares back.\"\n\n- \"Someday, you too will realize.\"\n- \"Heh heh heh...\"```\n\nThe man chuckled in hush." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "The dice collide with the wall of strange, chalky gray marble, and rebound off its surface. It seemed as though the wall was made out of something physical, after all—-\n\n—-*`Sssssssssss...`\n\nSound, like steam hissing from a cracked pipe, erupts forth from the figure of the wall encompassed in potent illusion. The mana that once encased its odd shape and form begins to fade, and so it is revealed that the wall never existed in the first place. A mere illusion, as expected; though, it seemed that anything short of an intentful impact against its surface would not reveal it to be such — the dice physically rebounding off its once-existence surface would serve to reveal that much.\n\nBeyond the form of the illusory wall is another section of the church that once went unseen. Directly behind and at the center of what was the illusory wall, was the figure of a Statue.* A third statue, front-and-center, and much larger than the other two. A gargantuan, armored figure etched in stone and decorated with accents of gold, silver, and a red gemstone at its forehead now dominated the atmosphere of the room, its figure dwarfing any and all other objects or people within the church. The helmet-face of the statue seemed to have a strange rune engraved into its surface — like that of the image of the sun — which glowed a deep, crimson hue, like that of a dying star. Within the grip of the statue's right hand is the stone image of a Twinblade, And, at the foot of the statue, is a slab of stone, undamaged, briefly describing the statue's origins...\n\n```fix\nPRAISE THE UEZER EIKOKUE\nBEGETTER OF TWO GUARDIANS\nHERO OF THE SUN\nMENTOR OF OUR LORD, THE TAAE CHEIT EZER.```\n\nAside from the statue, there is a single revealed object of interest, once hidden behind the illusory wall: a Large set of stone doors, About four meters in height each, closed and yet not locked, which was located a short distance behind the gargantuan statue." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Well, there's that...\" She says under her breath in regards to the new room, glancing back over to the prisoner kept here. If it's cursed... Mayhaps this would be explored when everything is tucked away... He said it was cursed, after all — but, also implied he might not know what lay behind those doors.\n\n\"What stares back when there is nothing to stare unto the beholder is nothing more than just the reflection of one's inner self... A speck hidden in the sand of the mental desert called one's mind, sand so perfectly melted that it, in one way or another, turns to the glass that defines a mirror; a way to look inwards upon oneself. When there is nothing to behold, there is yet Everything Remaining to be uncovered...\" She walks forward towards the now-revealed room, sure that this man certainly wouldn't attack as he speaks of a lesson she is already well-informed of. \"The teachings of everything and no-thing.\" She speaks, both inwards and outwards, touching the base of the statue. \"A hidden statue mentioning two guardians...\" She places her paw to her muzzle as she turns around, left eyebrow raised in curiosity as she walks back to the plaques located at the base of the two aforementioned statues in the un-illusory room.\n\n_ _\nWell, there's no harm in trying, right...? She thinks to herself, raising up her gauntlet — Detect Magic still firmly in effect as she __Attempts__ to cast Mending On the bottom of the un-destroyed depiction; the one on her right when she walked in, a few lasers emanating from each of the five fingers on her right hand. This would be so much easier if I had the resources to repair my left... Tabby the tabaxi curses herself, yet continues diligently working away at whatever the hell it was she was trying to accomplish. Certainly, this would take a while, as a single casting of Mending Lasts one minute and can only repair one foot of material at a time. \n\nThe purpose? Tabby intends to see one little thing — if the third statue had a plaque detailing it as a \"Hero of the sun\", the curious cat intends to see exactly what This Statue says. One could Assume It was part of the aforementioned guardians, but... Better safe than sorry, yes? As she works around attempting to get this bout of interest out of her system, she decides to ask but a few more questions, of course, why wouldn't she? Is this all this cat can do?\n\n\"These statues...\" She sweeps her free hand from one side to the other as she Tries To make heads or tails, \"Would you happen to know what they said? While I'm at it... What is the Eikokue?\" Suddenly things got a hell of a lot more suspicious, now that the 'cursed' wall jig is up.\n\n_ _\nAh, but of course... Safety first! Tabby remembers to pull her goggles down off of the top of her head, covering her eyes. Remember to practice safety!" }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "The statue to the right — shattered, decrepit, and destroyed, as if on purpose — did, indeed, have small chunks of rubble at its base, and enough to perform a basic sort of mending on the plaque at its base. With some careful manipulation and expert use of the spell, she would be able to Partially Repair the plaque, enough so that some portions of the engraved text would be readable once again, yet not as perfectly enough to wholly restore its phrasing in its entirety. For, of course, loose chunks of the rubble left on the ground had been kicked and ground down far beyond usable forms over the many years that the statue laid in waste.\n\nNonetheless, at the very least, Some Of the text is readable, and it is as such:\n\n```fix\nSOLAR GUARDIAN A[—]KUE\nFIR[ — ]N OF THE TWIN GU[—]IANS\nTO WHOM [—] BEQUEATHED EZERO\nHEAD KNIGHT OF [ — ]```\n\nFurther, with Detect Magic enabled — and her being within close proximity of the statues — she would note that the destroyed statue had no magical presence in effect upon its form. However, the statue to the left (the one depicting an unboastfully-armored knight) was enshrouded in an aura that suggested it was enchanted with a spell of the school of Abjuration.\n_ _" }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"...\"```\n\nThe man squinted at the tabaxi, who continued to mill about through the church, sticking her nose in far too many things than she should, his gaze now careful and cautious of her nature. The moment that she brought down the illusory wall, his attitude towards her appeared to have shifted, as if he had grown suspicious of her, strangely enough. Yet, there was no aggression in his nature; simply caution and leeriness as she continued to prod about through the church. He could no longer humor a conversation between her on the nature of infinity, withwhat reservations he had against her, now.\n\nInitially, he would give no answer to her questions. The leeriness that now overshadowed every other conception he had of her prevented him from doing such, as he instead continued to squint, his arms folded, and his body no longer relaxed in the windowsill, instead stood with an attentive posture. Now upright, she could aptly garner an image of the man's stature — he stood at no taller than 179cm, with a somewhat muscular frame, as one who was in a more laborious field of work would appear. His eyes glaring at her from afar, he would slightly purse his lip, mumbling something, before granting a vague answer.\n\n```diff\n- \"...Mmm. Suppose you could find that out for yourself. Seeing as you've some sort of ache to meddle with all sort of inhumed secrets, putting back together texts that were never meant to be read...\"```\n\nHe paused upon her mentioning of Eikokue, tapping his gloved right hand against his wrist. His unease, though slight, grew more and more noticeable as time passed on, the malevolent aura that enshrined his body slightly piquing in intensity as he itched against his chained left glove.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"Let me give you a word of advice.\"\n- \"Ukue. Eikokue. Aazkue.\"\n- \"Those names may seem initially tempting. Right, you and I heard it when we first heard that the Vektet had made contact with our respective planes of existence... The call to pilfer. Knowledge and riches... Of a divine realm, ripe for the taking.\"\n\n- \"But there is no sympathy to be given to these 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔. Afford not even the attention for their history... Their natures... Their ambitions... You know they are inconsequential to you. You know you do not want to make yourself accustomed with these... Beasts.\"```\n\nHe spoke with the unhidden notion of Disgust At the tip of his tongue, his words, laced with hate, carving against the repute and humanity of those who resided within the Vektet.\n\n```diff\n- \"Devaluate your life if you shall; I will not stop you. Progress if you will to the 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯... And 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 if it is your calling. I am not at liberty to tell you where you should and should not go.\"```\n\nHe spoke, most cryptically, and much against his typical nature of speaking, communicating as vaguely and riddle-like as possible, as one who would attempt to avoid perjury in court. That which he referred to, and that which he warned her against, would be no mystery, given his careful placement of emphasis in places which he Could not otherwise elaborate further on." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"A-kue...\" She speaks aloud, seemingly confirming the suspicion that the third statue implies that it came before the other two, perhaps an ancestor of sorts... Begetter does mean parent right? Well, Tabby has no idea. But, who the hell is EZERO? Inferencing from the other statue, the 3rd missing word is likely to be \"Guardians\", but... The 4th and 5th, Tabby has not the faintest idea. Akue, obviously, is a name, and the 2nd one... Well... Fireman comes to mind but would that really make sense in a situation like this? I think not.\n\nWhen the man begins to speak, Tabby's ears twitch much like any regular cat would, pointing towards the source of the sound in the room. If they weren't meant to be read, they wouldn't have been constructed... She replies, biting back her tongue to allow the man more time to give information. \n\nAh.. It occurs to Tabby that she's missing something... Where else has she seen the names of UKUE And A__AZ__KUE Before...?\n\nRight. The prayer room.\n\n_ _\nTabby uses her Keen Mind, attempting to recall the only information she actually absorbed off that mini-essay of text presented before her. Something about suns of destruction and purity... Whomever was dedicated to whom was entirely lost on her — if only she had stopped to read a few more seconds before chasing after that incredible Wretch!\n\n\". . . Of course not. I am just a simple... Adventurer.\" She stands up and does a forced curtsy, which is rather hard to do in armor without a skirt, but she attempts regardless. \"I have my bonds to a patron already, I don't want to betroth myself to a foreign power.\" Tabby is, of course, a Cleric Multiclass, so despite the man having no way to know this, this information DOES Check out. \"All I hope to achieve in this Ark is to further my knowledge of this world we both reside in — whether our residence be intentional or unintentional. I am a woman of science, and intend to further hone my skills...\"\n\nShe reaches her hand out for the vial. \"Once I'm done in the place beyond the original scope of this church, I will help to free you as agreed upon. I only ask that you please Write your notes down So that when I return, we have no reason to think the other is lying...\"\n\nSensing the growing distrust in the room, she grabs a piece of rolled parchment out from her Trinket Bag and extends it to the stranger as a sign of goodwill. \"As part of our agreement, take this scroll... It's dear to me; something from my homeland, gifted by a friend. I wouldn't leave the Vektet without it.\" Ironically, it is a Scroll of Animal Friendship." }, { "author": "?", "message": "Watching as she gave what was vaguely akin to a curtsy, the man's head dipped in a half-nod, his chin lowering and his eyes more straight-set towards Tabby, in a gesture whose impression danced between the inferred notions of \"Really?\" And \"Uh huh.\" Raising his head again, he continued to tap his finger against his left glove, his aspect of suspicion against her still maintaining as she continued through her explanations for being here. Her words, her self-definitions — of being a woman of science, of searching to hone her skills — moved him not a jot. He, one so thoroughly hung-up on the idea that they were all pilferers, intruders upon a structure he defined as 'divine' with no intent but to plunder to their hearts' content, was utterly unconvinced that Anyone Could have Any purpose But to do likewise. Whether it be to loot and pillage rare relics, or steal away untold knowledge of a world of another universe, anyone who stepped foot in this Ark must have done so for one selfish desire or another.\n\n```diff\n- \"Bonds to a patron, mmmm...\"\n- \"I did say you and I were cut from the same cloth... Therein that statement, my accuracy may have been... More or less than I initially thought.\"```\n\nHe spoke with a neutral tone, neither scornful nor deferential. He was not moved in one way or another by the statement, yet seemed ever-so-slightly intrigued by such a revealed fact. Perhaps it made him closer in nature to her, or perhaps much farther in nature...\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"...Mmm...\"```\n\nThe man quietly grumbled with displeasure that she requested him to do Anything. Though it was a request as little as to ask him to simply write notes, the man appeared a hint irritated to place an ounce of effort beyond asking another to do it for him; even with all the time in the world, he could scarce be bothered to dedicate Any Of that time towards something that actually took effort.\n\n```diff\n- \"Fine, fine...\"```\n\nHe spoke, his gaze shifting — him almost rolling his eyes — before he glanced back to witness her extended hand. Slowly dropping the red vial of a most malevolently-enchanted nature, he swapped it for the scroll which she offered, peering down at it with a brief bemusement.\n\n\n```diff\n- \"What's this... A scroll of magicks?\" \n- \"You should know that I'm no spellcaster.\"\n- \"...Mmm, whatever.\"```\n\nThe man, coarsened in demeanor by both the culture of his homeland and by the duress of being bound to a place such as the Vektet, was not one to swiftly pick up on the nature of such pleasantries. Or, for a matter of fact, even Acknowledge Them, were he to understand them in the first place. Nonetheless, taking the scroll with some caution, he stowed it away within one of the interior pockets of his dirtied coat." } ]	626	4,054
709.714286	2022-05-12	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "?", "message": "The nameless man who rested against the window appeared to be in a moment of rest — though, honestly, he usually did —, his eyes apparently closed or perhaps squinted upon a glance from afar. His arms still folded and his posture now leaned in the windowsill again, he only briefly raised his gaze to meet the form of the one who emerged from the room beyond the great statue. A brow slightly raised, and he appeared lightly amused, his head further raising as she continued to approach.\n\n`Tap, tap.`\n\nHis right-hand's index finger tapped against his left arm, rested atop it in a tucked position. A deeper glower manifested on his face as she questioned, his hidden lower-face's expression likely that of a slight frown. Again and again, how many questions could she have? What a tiresome individual. The man wordlessly grumbled in a breath, turning back to stare out the window as she further questioned. For the moment, he couldn't care less about what she wanted. She could certainly wait for him to continue resting a moment or two.\n\n`Tap, tap...`\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"```\n_ _\n\nFrom the corner of his eye, he peeked at the silver blade revealed from the defender's chest, yet would continue in his moment of contempt born from his characteristic laziness and his notion of displeasure towards Tabby, herself. The blade's form was interesting, but what was even more interesting was her statement on How she acquired it. \n\n`On second thought, this might be a topic worth delving deeper into,` The man thought, finally turning to face the tabaxi.\n\n```diff\n- \"Well... Whatever.\"\n- \"So you've slain the knight of the Eclipse... Or, merely, you've further given yourself to the depraved nature of a pilferer...\"\n- \"...\"\n- \"Nay, on second thought... No matter the deftness of one's hands, none could wrest that blade from that beast without first laying it to rest.\"```\n\nHe dismissed his former assumption. Though he assumed Tabby to merely be a fool who had found her courage bolstered to a foolish degree by the call of the Vektet's inner wealths, now it seemed clearer that she was stronger than she appeared, even if only by a slight margin. She had to have had Some Strength to escape the `Embrace of Sol` in the first place...\n\n```diff\n- \"Well. Regardless of the case... You ask for knowledge I possess, yet you still refuse to venture according to 𝘰𝘶𝘳 plan, hmm?\"```\n\nNonetheless, the stranger made familiar to Tabby due to their similar circumstances seemed scornful of her digression from the plan he had endued her with. All he asked was for her to kill a single, infirm old beast with poison, and she was now attempting to slay an entity she had no business with. Yes, perhaps his initial observation was right... Even if she did possess strength, she was still a fool emboldened far, far too much by the prospect of Pilfering.\n\n_ _\n\nAll of those who venture into the Vektet are the same, in that regard. He could chuckle lightly at the irony of the thought, if it weren't for his anger against her insubordination.\n\n```diff\n- \"Though, it wouldn't matter whether I told you or not... The question of if you could replicate the nature of the Eclipse Knight's crimson enchantment would be the same... 𝙣𝙤.\"\n- \"Lest you find yourself a person capable of replicating the fine strokes of an artist's brush after one sly glance... To do so without any former context would be... Mmm... Impossible.\"```\n\n`Tap, tap.`\n\n```diff\n- \"And, right... Right... I am not opposed to slaying that monster behind those two thick slabs of stone, but for you to slay it...? Mmm...\"\n- \"You'd be better off challenging the Root-Crown.\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "The cat holds out the vial, fiddling with it between her fingers as if playing dextrously with the blade of a knife — something she's obviously done before, wielding a dagger herself. \"I didn't say I was going against our plan. I said at first that I needed to make preparations. What good to you is a spell-caster without her spells?\" She crosses her arms and ceases fiddling, sliding the vial into a pocket on her belt and picking up the sword, it of course still glimmering with the remnant of Arcane Weapon.\n\nShe holds the fine metal up to her eyes, examining it in greater detail. \"The knight attacked me and another adventurer; I took it from their paws once the battle was over and done with.\" The Knight of the Eclipse, huh? She twiddles around with the sword, deciding to make a presentation on just how good her memory is. \n\nKeen Mind Activates as she mumbles aloud. \"Yes... Somebody good enough to memorize the exact footwork and slashes of a skilled swordsman... If only there were someone capable of doing... That.\" She swings at the air, taking careful consideration to not aim at the unnamed person giving her the insight she requested, Swinging the blade as Otaaraa did, the only difference being the sparks of electricity dancing across the fine edge.\n\nKeen Mind.\n\n\nYou always know which way is north.\nYou always know the number of hours left before the next sunrise or sunset.\nYou can accurately recall anything you have seen or heard within the past month.\n\n\"Is that to your liking?\" She swings again, showing that air what-for. After all, the sword is also a weapon Tabby is proficient in, even more so when magic energy courses through it.\n\n\"I will-\" Swing \"- of Course-\" Swing \"- do what we agreed on.\" She stops swinging, deeming her showmanship to her standard, glancing back over. \"I just need time to prepare my inventions.\" The defender, ever helpful, stands and does nothing — it can't speak, obviously." }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Well. Well well.\"```\n\nThe man mused quietly as he witnessed the tabaxi recreate quite the convincing impression of Otaaraa's motion. It was, for all intents and purposes, Very close To the real deal, yet no manner of enhanced memory — even Perfect — could wholly recreate Otaaraa's sword-style, for even in perfect recreation of the Motion, One may still lack the strength to recreate the Momentum. Though, still, were she to refine the technique, she may just as well swing the sword the same as the Eclipse Knight, as far as the stranger was concerned.\n\nThe man lifted his chin slightly as she continued on in her replication of the sword-swinging. 'Twas no easy feat to copy the refined prowess of a knight; he had to give her credit for at least that much. \n\nStill, though, she maintained her stubbornness in her digression against the carefully-formulated plan he made. All at the risk of her own life... If she died, he potentially could lose the last agent he could acquire, necessary towards assassinating the Root-Crown. Her continued insubordination would test his temper, yet he would not further comment on the subject, either out of simple lack of energy to do so, or due to a potentially more calculated approach towards their negotiations. Nonetheless, he furled his lip and held his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval of the tabaxi's adamancy.\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm.\"```\n\nThe man grumbled, tapping his fingers against his arm as she swung and swung.\n\n```diff\n- \"When I say replicate...\"```\n\nThe man paused, averting his gaze beyond the window,\n\n```diff\n- \"I don't just mean the motion, 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘳.\"```\n\nHe grumbled, slightly, murmuring something hushedly, before continuing.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm... Well. It matters little.\"\n\n\n\n- \"Still yet, you seek to paint the atmosphere red. The crimson hue... Mmm. I remember it familiarly. Stole away its secrets, too.\"\n- \"Mmm, as a pilferer should do - indeed.\"\n- \"The secrets I stole away, well... They're not mine to begin with. So I suppose I can spare to share them with one of my ilk.\"\n- \"Yes. The Eclipse Knight wielded an enchanted blade... Yes, it remains enchanted, even now.\"\n- \"But you misunderstand what it is enchanted with.\"\n\n- \"Ahhh, perhaps I should phrase this as question. Does a blade itself live? Does a blade itself bleed? Does a blade itself swing?\"\n\n- \"...No. No, it does not...\"\n- \"That blade... It's right and silver. A fine blade, and enchanted no less...\n- \"...But the only thing special about it... Is that it serves as a vessel. Enchanted, to be an object of prayer. Its might is only as great as its wielder... And its last wielder, as far as I recall, is now dead. Correct?\"\n\n- \"And I would not presume you know or have heard of the Fifth Prayer of the Eclipse. Mmm, as far as I'm concerned, the beast that wielded that sword was the only one on this entire Floor who knew of it.\"```\n\nSo the man leaned in the windowsill said, his arms folded, and his head tilted slightly upwards, as so to demonstrate his eminence in the conversation between the two. Many cards he held, and continue to hold them he would. This was just one of many facts that he had left, up his sleeve, and he would continue to exploit his surplus of information in the two's temporary alliance, until he could finally achieve his goal... Escape.\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm... I suppose that would disappoint you... Being drawn to strength as you are.\"\n- \"Ahh, but there is another way. Perhaps I could convince you... Perhaps you could be worthy enough, you, being cut from the same cloth as I...\"```\n\nThe man spoke, his tone shifting slightly in nature, his left hand tapping against his right. His brow eased, and he seemed more welcoming to Tabby, yet still appeared to be contemplating something. It was as if he was weighing out the pros and cons of his next statement, his eyes slightly averted from Tabby herself. \n\n```diff\n- \"Ahh, but that method... I would truly have to swear you to secrecy. An oath would be required.\"```\n\nThe man sighed, lightly, before shaking his head. It seemed that he no longer had any interest in following down that method. He and Tabby were only so recently acquainted, after all.\n\n```diff\n- \"Pay that thought no mind... Carry along in your business.\"```\n\nHe furled his left hand tight, and stared once more beyond the window, uninterested." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"The arcane..\" She mumbles, Arcane Weapon Dispelling on a mental command. Yes... The arcane. Her gauntlet which wields the brand beginning to shake & Chnnk. It was as if the very mention of the magic instilled within the sword was enough to open her mind to the possibilities. Otaaraa is not the arcane component. No. Otaaraa is merely a small subsection of what this can do. She begins to wield it ever-so-slightly different, feeling the tingling of the enchanted course throughout her armor. Battle Ready Awakens inside her, allowing her to wield said blade as she did when using Arcane Weapon. No, instead of simple Dexterity Or Strength, a blade like this can be serviced with Intelligence. \n\nShe pulls her goggles up, having a moment as she stares at her reflection off of the silver, sparkling with renewed intent, like something that desperately needed power-washing. Absentmindedly, she calls the man's bluff. \"If the Eclipse Knight was the only one who knew how to wield the incantation, you sure seem to know a lot more than you let on..\"\n\n\"The knight is dead, correct. The blade has been taken off of his body. I feel bad about it, but he was not in much of a bargaining mood... I've heard nothing about any prayer of anything in this place.\" She sighs — this guy and his oaths. — \"I told you, I already have consigned myself to a patron deity. An oath where you write all the rules will not fly, especially if my Ruler takes offense to the terms. They are a cruel mistress, not to be trifled with.\" She lets her words serve as a warning to any would-be shenanigans.\n\n_ _\n\"If you are dead-set on an oath as The only way, you will have to take it up with them.\" Tabby, on cue, pulls out an intricately designed watch — preserved likely by magic. Additionally, she peels the goggles off of her head — both gifts from her godly sponsor. \"I am willing to learn the method you speak of, but I am nevertheless too sensible to not have my liege strike either of us down.\" She holds out the goggles and time-keeping mechanism, both thrumming with an aura that can only be described as forcefully indestructible. It's a wonder that Tabby wears the goggles on her head.\n\n\"Also, Please Stop calling me a 'pilferer'.\" She corrects, very relaxed and not at all harsh. It seems the realization that the blade is magical on its own has, at least temporarily, washed away her anger from before. \"I am no thief. Everything I gain is through my own work, or fairly from efforts directly related to my actions. I do not steal from those who speaks for themselves, I don't go places with the intent of stealing valuables. I am an Honest Cat, making an Honest Living doing Honest Work.\"\n\nWhen Tabby outstretches her hands to offer an accord with her Lord, the Defender, too, steps forward, bearing a small amulet in its hand, though it appears cracked. It too seems to be a watch of some kind, though unmoving with cracked glass. The Defender is part of this deal too, after all." }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"```\n\nThe man grumbled lightly in response to her response, eyes still set on what was beyond the window. At what he glared was irresolute; perhaps he did not glare at anything, to begin with, or merely he was searching for something to look at besides anything within the church. With a light roll of his eyes, he lethargically peered back over his shoulder to stare at Tabby, his brow raised and his demeanor unenthusiastic to even face her. \n\n```diff\n- \"Right, right...\"```\n\nHe spoke, his intonation with a slight `m—hmm` In response to her comment — that he Must know something more than he let on. Perhaps, perhaps, and he hadn't been taking too many efforts to hide such, yet for him to reveal what he may know to her was... Unnecessary. For now, at least. Of course, she hadn't yet fulfilled her end of the bargain, and seemed to be quite intent on taking on whatever challenge came her way up until she had to do so. The prospect of freely donating information to her before she had done anything of value for him was—\n\n`—Eeegh... Revolting.`\n\n_ _\n\nAnother murmur, and another grumble. The man tiredly looked beyond the window yet again, loosening his left-hand's furled grip as he inattentively tuned in-and-out of Tabby's further comments. For now, it felt like he was just weathering her questions until she got whatever answers she wanted, finished up whatever tiresome processes she had left in the church-room, and finally left. So much time, yet so little energy to spare...\n\n```diff\n- \"Not a pilferer you say... Mmm...\"```\n\nHe spoke in a slightly scoffing tone. The idea that she, an intruder the very same on the grounds of the Vektet as himself, would not too hold such a title, was insulting. There is no such thing as an honest person — or, such was how the man thought. Indeed, he was a roughened, paranoid, and cynical spirit to the core, his misanthropic nature originated of a time even before he had entered the Vektet. The horrors he had witnessed within its midst only served to compound and propagate such pessimistic beliefs, twisting his soul into an all-scornful and entirely-unbelieving spirit of an abysmally-afflicted nature.\n\nEveryone he had known up until this point had only been out for themselves. And so was he. It was only because he was smarter, untrusting of the rest, and crafty that he had survived until today. And this very nature was damned-well going to liberate him from this divine sarcophagus of immortal suffering...\n\n```diff\n- \"...Heh... Heh heh.\"\n- \"...Your sword testifies against that claim...\"```\n\nHe whispered to himself, a slight chuckle in his breath as he would silently mock Tabby's words. Not a pilferer, she said. Then whose sword did she wield?\n\n*That's right.* If he was selfish and twisted in spirit, then So was everyone else.\n\n`His left-hand's fingers twist and curl, as he continued to chuckle silently to himself.`" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"I bested a Knight who could rend steel into smithereens.\" She motions to her Defender friend, who... Doesn't show any sign of injury, but that's besides the point.\n\n\"If not for the sword here, we wouldn't be making a deal. I turned back to find out where I can re-tune my spells after..\" Well, after my Defender turned into 2 half-robots.\n\nShe refuses to relent. \"If you want to make an oath like you've suggested twice now, you are required to speak to the mistress to get anything resembling that. It's like...\" She clicks her tongue, coming up a somewhat helpful analogy. \"An agent for someone Important.\" How brave of her to make such a statement on her own person!\n\n\"If you make a pact with me, you make an accordance with my guardianS And the mistress.\" An odd pluralization to make, seeing as the only \"Guardian\" Around was present. \"If you don't want to make a contract, we don't have to, but Wouldn't you rather GUARANTEE Your freedom as much I Would like to guarantee your knowledge?\" She shrugs, admittedly getting a little annoyed at how long this is taking them; continuing to hold out the amulet, the watch, and the goggles with her automaton to back her up in holding things.\n\nBelieve it or not, this guy is not really in control of making demands here. His freedom relies on someone like Tabby, and she is all-too-aware of that. Take it or leave it.. The cat thinks, holding the vial in her other hand; taking great care to not let it come in harm's way. Tabby is Honest, like she claimed.\n\n_ _\nRegardless.. The knight struck first. Is her mental justification." }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"That's right... You're still fresh blood, to this terrible world. Mmm...\"\n- \"You should know, no god can hear you cry within this divine sarcophagus. Oh, and believe me... How hard I've tried.\"```\n\nHis right hand clasped tight, and he grit his teeth, his mouth hidden beneath the half-mask of a bandana that he wore about his face. There was intense frustration and almost a slight tone of fury in his tone of voice as he spoke, raising his gloved right hand from his folded arms and before his eyes, glaring at the concealed back of his hand. His eyes settled into a deep, scowling squint, and a murmur of bitter anger rumbles from his lips. \n\nThe malevolent aura, as subtle as it had become, disappeared entirely, in the moment that he briefly clawed against the back of his hand, as if in longing for something he had once lost. His attention, yet, seemed torn between each of his two hands, his eyes shifting back-and-forth between his right and left, and then to his right again. The stranger shook his head, his restless, gloved fingers still scraping against one another as he tempered his sudden frustration, his body lifting from its rested position as he stared forth at the tabaxi and her guardian, items of accord set forth. He almost seemed to briefly consider accepting in the agreement, his stance suddenly shifting forwards, and yet he stopped himself; his body thrust backwards, and he again grit his teeth.\n\n```diff\n- \"Your accord... Your guardians... And your mistress... Mmm...\"```\n\nThe fury born of frustration again reared its ugly head, and he bit back the seething wrath that so spontaneously showed itself. Something, somewhere, within what she said, had lit fire to his spirit, and so he seemed greatly disturbed.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"No... Patron, benevolent or... 𝒎ale𝒗ol𝒆nt can hear you... In the Claw of 𝑮𝒐𝒅...\"```\n\nHis right hand heats, and he can feel a deep, seething pain, roaring throughout his veins. His very own mana clusters alongside his right palm, forcefully, burning throughout the rest of his tainted body... His tone, alongside this strange manifestation, shifted in slight, his words slowed, as if he choked his speech while it still left his throat.\n\n```diff\n- \"I've no interest.. In your damned pacts... Your damned oaths... Your disgusting venom will never pierce my veins, you 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒔... Filthy spawn of 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔...\"```\n\nHis restless, curling fingers of his left hand crept alongside his right arm, clasping it tight, using such a grip to guide his right palm atop and against the sheathed blade of the dagger rested at his hip. His posture eased, the stranger peculiarly calmed by the single motion, as his reddened eyes ease in gaze.\n\n```diff\n- \"...\"\n- \"Mmm.\"```\n\nThe stranger grumbled, his demeanor instantaneously shifted to his calmed and lazy nature that was present once before. He averted his gaze from the tabaxi, and, with his hand still firmly pressed against the form of the dagger, he glared beyond the window, attention again elsewhere.\n\n```diff\n- \"In other words... Get lost.\"\n- \"We'll talk about... Mmm... About 𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔... When you actually get something done.\"```\n\nHe nonchalantly cast aside his scathing demeanor earlier, as if it had never happened, wordlessly recanting anything he had said upon the matter up until this very point." } ]	712	4,968
819.333333	2022-05-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "The door to the church opens, Tabby stepping in and limping a bit, flanked on either side by her two automatons. \"I need materials. Not the poison, that's still fine. I just need an energy source. Magic, mana potion, whatever the hells you all call it here, and I need to know where to find a run-away Vaazva.\"\n\nShe stares up at the window-sill arm around both of her machines — it seems that, although she dodged the attack, she sprained or twisted her ankle thanks to the shove being too forceful.. \"I am done with playing games with this stupid golden asshat, and I have one hell of an idea. You can't react to something Invisible. Especially not when it's warped directly on top of you.\"\n\n\"He can see souls, but inanimate objects don't have that. So if I take a bolt, cast Invisibility, cover it in the venom, and warp it on top of him, it'll hit without a hitch. Unreactable, gets the job done. All I need is some magic energy and whereabouts.\"" }, { "author": "?", "message": "The strange man, still leaned in the window, seemed entranced by something that lied beyond the window. His eyes remained in a deep squint, and even upon Tabby's initial entrance, he would not notice her — or, at the very least, would not make a comment Upon Noticing her. Something outside seemed to have the whole of his intention... Something outside was Changing. While, with what distance the church was from the Greattower, even the muffled echoes of that Scream Could still be heard from this distance.\n\nSomeone... Is challenging the Root-Crown?\n\n```diff\n- \"Well, well...\"```\n\nThe man's left palm laid against the window, pressed against its surface, as if it longed for something beyond the church. And yet still, the man himself could not trek beyond this stone coffin... Not until the right Criteria Had been fulfilled, that was. He wished to confirm his suspicions... But his Messenger Was in a bit of a daze.\n\n```diff\n- \"Back again...\"```\n\nWithout turning to the tabaxi who entered the church, the man spoke, continuing to hold his gaze fast, beyond the window that he rested against. His left hand was, for a moment, left uncomfortably Brandished. A mistake he would not make again — he tucked it away, folding his arms once again, hiding away the triple-gloved and chained form of the Unsightly thing.\n\n After the longest and laziest of pauses, granting her less of an audience and more of a talking-to-a-brick-wall experience, he acknowledged her with little more than a slight, ill-tempered grumble.\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"\n- \"Failed, have you...\"```\n\nHis tone was suffused with a slight, yet unsurprised anger; it was if he had expected the outcome, but he would nonetheless be displeased with her news of failure. \n\n```diff\n- \"Where, oh, where, did you go wrong...\"```\n_ _\n\nFor the first time since she re-entered the church, he turned to view the tabaxi who approached, his eyes set on her injured form; she employed the work of two golems just to Stand. He slightly scoffed, turning his gaze from the artificer, instead returning to looking at whatever was so Very interesting Beyond the window...\n\n```diff\n- \"I gave you poison to kill the old beast subtly, and you return brandishing wounds of a conflict.\"\n- \"I don't suppose you ever even attempted to administer the poison. Considering, that all of it is still on your person...\"\n- \"Well. That saves me from having to... Make another dose.\"\n\n- \"Still... Mmm...\"\nHe pondered, briefly.\n- \"You are lacking, quite, in subtlety.\"\n\n- \"And you say... That Vaazva has ran away, mmm...?\"\n- \"Well. That much I know.\"```\n\n`Tap, tap...`\n\nHis left-hand's digits tapped against his arm, and he blinked, slowly, staring beyond the window. Continuing beyond his own complaints, he would give answer to some of her earlier requests and ideas. Reluctantly, of course, but he answered, nonetheless...\n\n```diff\n- \"A power source, you say.\"\n- \"Energy does not come so easily. Right... You do want to forfeit any idea of acquiring such swift sources of... Energy, as you say.\"\n- \"I already offered you one, and, you are... Mmm. Unfitting. Denying it, yourself...\"\n\n- \"All the more to say: I've nothing to help you, to those ends.\"```\n\nHe rolled his eyes at such a request. Earlier, he gave her an easy opportunity for power, and she so easily turned it down. Now, she came back, searching for a source of power one-in-the-same as the type he offered... What a silly way of thinking. Such a fortuitous opportunity would not come twice.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"As for the whereabouts of that old beast...\"```\n\nHe paused, stooping his head downwards, evidently in a moment of thought. Vaazva had fleed. Yes. This much he knew. As to where he fled... Well. 'He' Saw the beast pass from the plaza toward the entryway into the village... From there?\n_ _\n\n`His own home...`\n`Certainly not.`\n\n`The residence of the one named Sheto...`\n`Certainly not.`\n\n`Toward the church...`\n`Certainly not. I have not yet sensed him approach.`\n\n`Toward the monster, the Root-Crown...?`\n`Certainly not. He left with four in tow... Four that he values much.`\n\n`Otherwise, in the residential district...`\n`Mmm... Perhaps... Plenty of places to hide there. And plenty of comfortable places to hide one's dear companions...`\n\n`Into the forest...`\n`A... Loose possibility. There are dangerous beasts the further one treks into its midst. Dangerous beasts, which Vaazva would not want his weak to encounter. The safer portions of the forest would be great places to hide, however...`\n\n`Toward the great-tower of the south...`\n`Mmm... Maybe. One would have to be insane to do so, however... Those gold-clad knights have slain the people of the Watch once in the past. Being defiled one-in-the-same as that old beast may leave them sympathetic to his cause, however... If there's any left.`\n\n`Alongside the dangerous inquisitor, Ve...?`\n`A sensible approach... Yet one with its own holes. He has a base of operations... Somewhere. Somewhere that would be quite comfortable and hidden... Still. They are of the same order, yet that old beast has defiled his own name... That white-masked-man does not seem the type to buy into anything but his direct superior's orders. `\n\n`Alongside that reject nobility, the one who snuffed my messenger...`\n`That is a worryingly likely possibility... Those two are one of the same cloth. I know not where she hides at night, yet she is respectful of a damned thoughtless monster. To think that she would find sympathy for an old, decrepit, blood-craven beast, is not unlikely... Still. There are better places to hide than with that crackpot.`\n_ _\n\nThese were the least probable and most probable ideas that he could conjure on-the-spot. He would continue to ponder, further, before coming forth with a final answer.\n\n```diff\n- \"Well. I'm not certain...\"\n- \"Perhaps if you just... Poisoned the damn beast, instead of fighting him...\"\n- \"You wouldn't be in this situation. Mmm...\"```\n\nThere was slight frustration to be found in his voice. He wanted Vaazva Dead. And now, with his one operative blundering the mission that he gave her, there seemed to be quite an issue on both of their hands — Vaazva had Fled. Somewhere uncertain, and somewhere reclusive." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "She grumbles a bit, before replying to the rhetorical question of how she failed. \"I don't know. One second he was sitting, the next this thing here —\" She taps the Shield Guardian to signify exactly what she means — \"Detected he was a threat and had him pinned against the wall. The in-between is a complete blur.\" She groans, clearly angry at her own failure just as much as he. \"The lights went out and this hunk of scrap-metal suddenly pushed me to the ground rather violently.\" She nods her head towards her Defender, who looks down at the ground in mock shame; it of course knew that it had made a correct play, but that matters not when done as forcefully as it did.\n\n\"He wouldn't let me near him without threatening on my life. I couldn't've slipped him the drink myself — I found him in the bar like you said, but I stumbled upon him completely on accident. Apparently his words & actions were enough to make all hell break loose once this thing decided it had enough of the shenanigans. If I could have resolved this quietly, I would've Much Preferred to not twist my ankle and rely on others to move. Not that I'm particularly-\" She grunts as the machines lift her up and on top of the Shield Guardian's shoulders \"-unable to do that..\" As she adjusts herself to sit comfortably, nameless Abjuration Magic begins to passively flow through her armor from the Guardian's Shield Protocol.\n\n_ _\nShe grits her teeth in frustration, taking a loud exhale. \"Yes, it seems like my previous denials were rash. But I can't get close to him myself with or without power. If we take him out, we need a plan — and, as far as I'm aware, my plan would be the only thing he wouldn't see coming. He had this Divination Magic... Could use it on reading someone's soul, but if you warp a poisoned, cloaked bolt on top of his head or Conjure A Barrage With an aforementioned arrow like that.. He wouldn't be able to search the soul of an inanimate object. Do it from far enough away, he wouldn't even hear the bolt initially fire... A completely covert assassination.\"\n\n\"But we both have a common goal now. You want Vaazva dead, and you need me and my constructs to do that for you. Whatever it takes to get this job done and wipe out one more monster like him.\" She tilts her head in a sort of expectant manner, awaiting an answer.. \"We don't have all the time in the world to let the trail run cold — if we do this swiftly, I can get onto his scent with my nose and track him. All I need is some kind of power source — anything that I can convert into magic energy.. Prayer or not. — and a good vantage point, which... In the woods, shouldn't be too difficult.\"\n\nAt this point however, Tabby figures that Vaazva is very likely to have a type of either Blindsight Or Truesight, much like the Eclipse Knight did, meaning that cloaking Herself In illusion would not bear fruit, instead trying to barter a deal out that would benefit both of the two co-dependents. Tabby needs her information, this man needs his freedom." } ]	701	2,458
578	2022-05-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"As I've said...\"```\n\nHe spoke, with a slight roll of his eyes. His left hand shifted uneasily as she continued pressing on the matter, tapping its digits against his forearm twice, leaving a rather extensive pause in his words.\n\n```diff\n- \"Power... For someone like you... Does not come so easily.\"\n- \"You are... Mmm. Unfit. As I did say.\"\n- \"For, with no oath, how could I expect you to be a vessel fit for... 𝘮𝘳𝘳𝘨𝘩𝘩𝘩...\"```\n\nThe persistently-present presence of Malevolence That enshrouded the man grew considerably, his left hand churning easelessly, clasping tight against his right hand's wrist. The rusted chain that bound his left gloves tight to his palms and fingers dangled with a slight clatter, and he seemed to, in the moment that his words were interrupted, withhold a minor fit of pain. Something Within his spirit shifted; he seemed deeply disturbed, if only for a moment, and would take yet another prolonged moment in pause.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"That is... All to say...\"\n- \"The method I offer... Yes. You would need... Oath. Mmm, right. There is no other way.\"```\n\nBreaking his longstanding habit of folding his arms and hiding away each of his hands, the man finally stood from his rested position within the window, allowing each of his two arms to hang, plain and open at either of his sides. As though readying himself for further action, the stranger took a single step forwards, staring with intent at Tabby, his gaze and presence now with a sharp sense of scrutiny over her nature. His eyes, dim and of an ambiguous color, peered deep, and he quieted his rather harsh breath of a rough and irritated nature. Leaning in toward the tabaxi. There was an almost tangible atmosphere of unease within the air about the two, as the man brandished his left hand — without losing his skeptical sense of nature — in a subtly inviting manner.\n\nAs he encroached, even if only in a single step, so too did the uncomfortable presence of the Malevolent Follow. \n\n```diff\n- \"You would oblige, correct.\"\n- \"With this little oath of mine, if you do seek power in haste.\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"All I need for this oath is to know the terms and conditions.\" She replies, simply — her Guardian lowering her to the ground and assisting her in \"Kneeling\" In acceptance.\n\nObviously she would find herself unable to put weight on her own foot, so her automatons make a compromise with eachother, wrapping her arms around the both of them and taking the kneel For Her. Due to their lowness to the ground, Tabby's kneepads gingerly graze across the flooring as she grits her teeth, feeling the movement of her foot. Certainly better than standing or kneeling on her lonesome.\n\nA strange voice echoes in the back of her head, prompting her to speak up to the person who moved towards her \"My deity wishes to know the terms of the agreement, as well.\" \n\nShould things magically go awry and damage be dealt to the amulet Itself, or terms not discussed, the Shield Guardian would waste no time in protecting the jewelry, and Defender the wielder herself. They remain on guard despite the cat's willingness; truly vigilant at all times.\n\n\"We are in accordance about what to do with the fate of Vaazva of the Exiles' Watch, and agree that I am of no surplus of strength to deal with it in my current shape & energy, nor do I have resources at my disposal beyond that which I carry nearby..\" The Defender's chest cavity opens up and it pulls out the Watch From before as if it somehow mattered in this deal.\n\n\"To that end, We are fully willing to accept aid, provided that we make an informed decision upon the terms presented in this oath.\" Tabby finishes speaking, her robots watching with great care for the following moments." }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Terms and conditions, you say.\"```\n\nHe spoke with impassivity in his voice, raising his right hand to the forefront of his attention, squinting harshly at the back of the gloved hand. Attention diverted entirely from Tabby, the stranger slowly, with his left hand, reached to his side — for a Dagger, Ever-so-forebodingly enchanted. With a slow, prolonged tug at the handle of the misshapen weapon — whose wicked form made its possession only aptly fit for one worthy of a stigmatic title such as Deceiver, its blade twisted and gnarled, with a red tint that gave it an appearance as though it were a Living thing.\n\nWith a deathly stare in his eyes, devoid of any emotion besides some form of discreet and distant, inscrutable instinct akin to a madman's sadistic amusement, the man lowered his right hand, and lifted the unsheathed dagger overhead, its blade widthwise to his face. He gawked at the distasteful form of the dagger as though he were one who appraised, a deep, yet unseen gratification brought to himself as he finally released the macabre item to the open air. In this strange admiration of the wicked blade, he paused, and paused for moments on end, leaving the kneeling artificer before him within a most laborious moment of anticipation. The blade, in its dark enchantment, sang to him. It whispered with the same sonority as the malevolent aura which clung to his figure, its cacophonous, unheard howls that would bring most to unbearable distress like an orchestral composition in his ears.\n\nHow long had it been since he had the pleasure of Setting himself free?\nOhhh, to think...\nThat his former nature would bind this away...\n_ _\n\nThe stranger, still within his moment of revelation, slowly lowered the dagger, and with his free fingers, pulled the glove on his right hand taut, before tugging it off the extremity, entirely. Revealed beneath the form of the glove was, of course, his hand — yet Upon that hand, Was a most intricate series of interwoven runes, dozens-upon-dozens of indecipherable arcane texts tattooed deep and precisely into his flesh. Their intricacy and depth extended to such subtle points that the finest of lines within the elaborate runework were thinner than single strands of hair, twirling and travelling alongside his hand's already existent wrinkles and lines — it was as if a most potent sorcery had been created for His very hand. Each and every rune and text upon the surface of his palm and digits were foreign to the artificer, and yet she had earlier been made aware, by virtue of her ability to Detect Magic, that the written enchantments upon his right hand were those of Abjuration.\n\nAnd yet, at the very back of his hand, the runework had been disrupted by a series of self-inflicted wounds, carving deep into his flesh, and rending apart the focal point of the self-persisting enchantment... He pressed the wicked blade against the back of his hand, and so its edge matched the exact shape and size of the few wounds that marked its surface. \n\n```diff\n- \"Terms and conditions, you say.\"```\n\nHe echoed, with a chuckle.\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm, how about this...\" -\n- \"I will grant you my blood to imbibe, and so speak a series of... Mmm... Select words.\"\n- \"And in response, you will say——\"\n\n- \"𝑵𝒕𝒆𝒏-𝒎𝒊.\"\n\n- \"Mmm? And then you will receive greater power. A sort of... Conditional, life, that does not fade. Vitality, incarnate. Something you do want much.\"\n\n- \"Remain kneeling, and cup your hands. Do not raise your head to look at me.\"```\n_ _\n\nThe stranger spoke, without so much as staring down at Tabby to confirm whether or not she would remain compliant with his demands. Instead, he seemed thoroughly fascinated, now, with his Left hand, Gloved thrice-over and bound with Chain. His eyes hone in on the rusted chain, and, beneath the mask that hid his lower face, frowned. With a grit of his teeth, he clasped tight the dagger, and...\n\n`Slice.`\n\n...Cut open the back of his right hand. Blood began to ooze and drool from the grisly, open wound, and he allowed that blood to trickle off his fingertips, ahead of himself — and into the palms of Tabby, were she indeed to cup her hands. \n\nSimultaneous with the slice against the back of his hand, the chain that bound his left began to rattle, its surface humming with the resonance of a Spell. Something had been imbued into its form; something that had been interrupted by the act of, once again, interrupting the runework on his right hand. The chain hissed and hum, before in a single moment, Shattering.\n\n\nAnd so, he slowly removed the first of the three gloves on his left hand. And then the second, and then the third— yet, on the third, he would waver, clenching tight his teeth, as he slowly peeled away the cloth that clung close to his flesh. It was as if it was Stuck. Like some sort of substance beneath caused it to cling and clutch, as though it were bound by an oozing glue.\n_ _\n\n`cglhk...`\n\nThe glove peels off, and so with it, an outer layer of Skin. His skin. As if he had Peeled the outer layer of his hand off.\n\nAnd revealed beneath, was a wicked left hand, withered, and with raw, red flesh. On the back of his left hand, there remained a most disquieting tattoo — a Malformed spider, Barely distinguishable from the rest of his raw flesh, for it had been inked in a deep red. \n\n\nThe malevolent aura around the man grows to a most concerning level. Now, with his left hand released, it was as though there were a pair of eyes behind him—no... Not just a Pair Of eyes, but Eight. There is a nature of displeasure that comes with even staring up at his left hand and the eyes that peered from behind him, and if she were to do so, she would feel the tingling, phantom sensation of Bugs, crawling along her body.\n\n```diff\n- \"Prepared?\"```\n\nHe spoke, before, shortly after, following up with an Incantation. A harrowing Chant, Of a language foreign not only to Tabby herself, but to the universe in which she resided. It was a language from a land that did not exist, and from a cosmos unseen.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"ℕ𝕋𝔼ℚ𝕀ℂℍ𝕐𝕀𝕋𝕄 𝕋𝕄𝔸ℂℍ𝕐𝔼𝕄 𝕋𝕄𝔸ℕ𝔸𝕋𝕀-ℕ𝕋𝔼ℕ\"\n- \"𝕄𝕀-𝕋𝕄𝕀𝕋𝕌 𝕋𝔼𝕄𝕆𝕋ℂℍ𝕐𝕀𝕄 𝕋𝔼𝕋𝕄\"\n\n- \"𝑯𝒂𝒂.. 𝒉𝒂𝒂..\"\n\n- \"ℕ𝔼𝕋𝕄𝕀 𝔸𝕋𝕆 𝔸𝕋𝕄𝔼𝕋𝕋𝕀 ℕ𝕆𝕋𝕋𝔸ℕ.\"```\n\n*So he concluded.\n\nThe air resonates with a lingering sense of unease, and the festering, phantom sensation of insects crawling about cannot be shaken. The sheer breadth of the malevolence that echoed off the man's corporeal figure grew to an almost unbearable degree, as he stared down at the tabaxi, his eyes reddened by the tax of even speaking such Accursed words.* He stared and stared, waiting, as if pressuring her to *Say the phrase which he imparted to her." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "The clock, previously stagnant in the Defender's hand, begins to tick — starting off arrhythmically & infrequently as Tabby seems to have some inner dialogue. Out of the corner of the very friendly nice man's eyes, a splotch of dark liquid forms from the centerpiece of the watch. And from that black spot, an eyeball. The man's seemingly razor-sharp senses seem to imply that this magic is coming from within Tabby, suppressed deep, deep down in her Hollowed body, unbeknownst even to her. This is Not* Brought over from the Forgotten Realms. This is not Tabby's unique style of magic.\n\nA deep, rattling voice emanates from the time-keeping device, spoken by a chorus of thousands of individuals, discordant and unintelligible — creating a wave of pure thunderous chanting; a maddening ensemble of frightful sounds and noises, disturbing to even those with the steeliest of soul. The pool expands down onto the ground like that of a waterfall, strengthening the intensity of the voices as they frantically shout out inaudible phrases and screeches. As the indescribable liquid drips down onto the floor, threatening to cover the entire surface, body parts like Mouths And even the odd Nose Join the ranks of the first eyeball. Whether illusory or not, one would be unable to tell. The strength of a potential Spell At play is entirely foreign to the cat who wouldn't even have the Potential To harness such powerful arcane incantations." }, { "author": "/////", "message": "The liquid swirls and spirals upwards in a staircase-like motion, the eyes following and settling into place as something beyond words takes form in front of the man's very eyes. Tabby loses focus, and the automatons that are sworn to her remain motionless, letting this being take the lead for them as the feline seems to be catatonic." }, { "author": "Ursa", "message": "A mouth slides to the top of this figure, along with two mis-matched eyes and a nose. As her figure forms from the pure unfiltered magic, a bunch more eyes rush to cover her body, shrinking down to that of a black-and-white night sky, with no cosmic coloring between. A most unusual form, to be sure. Yet, no armor or distinct feature forms with her — due to the restriction of only facial cavities and what-have-you. The voices switch from mindless chanting to full on screeching in fear and terror, bouncing around the reverberating church they found themselves in, raw power seeming to emanate from the unholy abomination, from every single eyeball, mouth, and nose now present in the room.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I think we've had a severe miscommunication.\" She speaks, quieting the chorus and channeling it into her own speech. \"Let us try this again. What are the _Terms and Conditions_ of this?\" The ooze seeps at the mans boots, harmlessly even though it seems to stick to whatever touched it. A direct line has been called from the deepest part of Tabby's subconscious — the part that reacted violently to Vaazva only a short while before. This is the \"Deity\" That Tabby spoke so highly of. Ursa. \n\nDespite this display, the deity is thoroughly unable to act, instead relying on harmless magic to Scare the wits out of the man. If only there were a more... Dominant way to do this.\n\nWhat a fucking amateur. The entity thinks, looking down at the form of the artificer. Get a grip. Ursa turns back to the man, staring him dead in the eyes with her... Well, normal eyes, and mini eyes. A mouth slides up to her left kneecap un-invited as she does this." } ]	374	3,468
227.84	2022-05-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "?", "message": "The man paused, and listened carefully for the first sentence following his query. His eyes set in a squint toward the figure of the deity, in anticipation of what it would first say, his body strained tight — as if in anticipation of some sort of physical rebuke for his question. And, yet, the first act she would take after he queried, was to respond. His brow furrowed, and he clasped his hand tight about the dagger burrowed into the back of his right hand, slowly and carefully tugging the malicious item from its prison of contracted flesh, listening, unamused, with the entity's following tirade.\n\n```diff\n- \"That is, so to say... You are...\"```\n\nAs Ursa completed, the man echoed the statement upon which he paused earlier. This time around, however, he would complete the words which he earlier meant to say.\n\n```diff\n- \"...Yet another empty god.\"```\n\n*`TUG`\n\nFinally wresting the form of the twisted dagger from its position buried in his flesh, the man sucked in another deep, coarse breath. The pain was, of course, despicable, and yet it was not the only thing that tolled upon his body. Between his right hand and that which churned from the Inside,* The sharp pain of the blade being torn from the runebound appendage was the lesser of two worries. Standing, in a stumble, he took a step back whose distance was enough-so that the murky slime of the gliding incarnation of the god would not sully his opened wounds. He groaned, lightly, staring down at the bloodied blade, before giving a slow blink, unenthralled, and, quite honestly, repulsed by the presence of the apparition that so disgustingly Identified Itself as 'Ursa'.\n\n```diff\n- \"The contents of your answer — no... The presence of an answer, itself... Mmm, it speaks volumes of just what sort of... Entity... You are.\"\n- \"What a pitiful outlook you have on reality... I do hope you are not eternal. For your sake.\"```\n\nHer words of intimidation would move him not an inch.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"A true divine entity would spare no mere mortal such as I the honor of an introduction.\"```\n\nHe spoke, scanning his eyes across the surface of the crimson blade, before swiping his right-hand's index finger over its lightly-gleaming surface. To speak while enduring such internal wounds was no easy feat; such transcendence of physical boundaries such as pain could only be attained through Decades Of built endurance. That endurance, and that ability to withstand pain, was perhaps what originated his capacity to speak with such an entity as the one opposite himself with such confidence. Whether such endurance and confidence was born of foolishness... Well. Only time will tell.\n\n```diff\n- \"You should have smitten me with pestilence for the mere thought. If you were a... Mmm... Emissary, worth heeding, as you identify yourself. I have never heard of any divine creature suffering a man such presumption.\"```\n\nHe spoke, his eyes in a squint, and his pained right hand held close to his chest in a half-fold, as though he were unamused with Ursa's nature, as a very being. Continuing, he sharpened his tone — for this was truly that which irked him most.\n\n```diff\n- \"What manner of divine emissary threatens a mortal for knowledge? Does eternity itself not hold such answers? Or, merely, are you impotent?\"```\n\n...So he spoke, with a pause.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"Ah, and if you so desire to rid the world of the depraved, you ought to personally cull every living creature. Mmm... Such is the folly of a divine entity taking personal interest in the mortal realm.\"\n\n- \"Well. That is, so to say. I have no interest in speaking terms with faux deities.\"\n- \"Your beneficiary, lacking in subtlety as she was... Mmm. Yes. Even she could more ground clear in diplomacy than such a being as yourself.\"\n\n- \"I would prefer to push aside such... Ah. Idle threats. Lest you use your endless eyes and ears to snuff breath from my throat. Hm?\"\n- \"All the more reason; bring back your naïve... Mmm, stray, as you say. Or perhaps you hope to put her to sleep for eternity.\"```" }, { "author": "Ursa", "message": "\"A greedy Worm Is spared and thinks himself invincible; capable of challenging a god.\" Ursa raises her head, eyeing him down with her spirit manifested. \"How interesting. No matter.\"\n\nThe form suddenly morphs and twists, contorting as Ursa becomes something else. \"Then, in that case...\"" }, { "author": "/////", "message": "Her form snaps and cracks violently as if made of actual bone, making the most chilling noises as the voice suddenly break out into a frantic cacophony of sound once more; a frightening display of mental dominance capable only of the divine.\n\nFrom Ursa's guise sprouts boned wings, complete with a myriad of eyes. Her bear dissolves behind her into the original silhouette it came from, sliding up to the new formation. The goop around this foul, foul man suddenly snaps upward, restraining both arms as tendrils sneak around his legs, solidifying in an instant." }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"Smiting Someone as dull as you would be something you find gratification with. So, I've decided a new punishment effective immediately.\"\n\n\"I believe that, instead of being allowed free roam of this wretched church, you should Instead Remain in this one spot forevermore... Unmoving-\" Shhhhlork, the tendrils wrap up this mans legs, \"- and unbreathing.\" The ooze trails up from his arms, threatening to encase the entire man's face lest he make peace with the God of Governance he found before him. \n\n\"Rest assured, the cat can still perceive you.\" He chuckles, coldly. \"After all, who were to summon me if not her? She pieced together what's in that Vial, as well..\"\n\n\"You do not plan to Murder Vaazva. You plan to do exactly what you just attempted to do to our poor 'naïve' housecat.\" \n\n\"Instead of allowing that to happen, I elect to make sure you never have the opportunity to try it again. What say you in your final speaking moments?\"" }, { "author": "?", "message": "The man's eye was sharp, and so too was the resonance that gnawed within his spirit. The bristly, burrowing claws of the malevolent presence that carved his left hand and chest in its raw, toll-taking sensation of pain for forced penitence of his yet-unfulfilled vows, in what was a maneuver likely born of its own self-preservation, honed that dreadful sensation into an Instinct. The disgusting, sharp, wriggling claw that floated throughout his body poked against his innards — against his very spine — in such a manner that it would not damage nor pierce it through, but send a powerful impulse throughout the entirety of his body. Damning all pain and wounds, for just a single second, the man's body flared, and the blood that he spilled rapidly congealed into a web-like form, his body subtly contorting with an inhuman `CRCK` That allowed him to defy the weakness of his physiology. He leapt a body's-breadth backwards, and, with a sharp, painful breath, tumbled back and beyond the pool of ooze that sought to bind him. The sticky blood returned to its mundane form as he landed, and so too did his contorted body ease.\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmmgh...\"\n- \"Well. Here you do have some influence. So it seems, at least.\"\n\n- \"...Mmm. No... No. That is... Not right.\"\n- \"It is as I said, correct. We are two of the same cloth, she and I.\"\n- \"Pilferers each carrying the forebodance of distant patrons, one in the same.\"```\n\nThe man pressed his bleeding right hand against his chest. It seemed that the toll that was to be imposed upon him had been temporarily delayed, as if out of the Minima's Need to self-preserve. There were few blessings that came out of this parasitic relation. One may assume that this granted ability to, if only for a single time, instinctively avoid the binding of the manifest entity before him, would be one of these blessings. It was not.\n```diff\n- \"I believe you do have confused me for another... Mmm,\"```\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"No man is invincible. Not at all, you see. I am simply a being knowing of... Mmm. This... Claw's... No... This Ark's, limitations.\"```\n\nThe man twirled the red dagger in his left hand, and tossed it to his right. In the same motion, the subtle, red tattoo on his raw left hand shined alight, the subtle aura of Malevolence Silently expounding a magical command at distance. Still, and perhaps more directly relevant to the god(s) before him, he brandished the dagger in his damaged right hand, aiming it toward the goopy, abominable mass.\n\n```diff\n- \"What power you display here is only that of the fragment of blessing imparted unto your beneficiary.\" \n- \"Mmm... That is correct. These decades I have spent, bound, here have revealed that much to me.\"\n- \"For a god cannot itself enter nor intercede with the happenstance of this... Divine coffin.\"```\n\nWhat he said was... Quite true. Direct, divine intervention, was nigh of impossible, within the Vektet. A deitous entity was granted some leeway to intervene with the inner workings of, what was as the stranger described to be, a 'divine coffin', so long as they do it through a mortal vessel that was granted entrance through the Ground Gate. However, to directly manifest themself through direct means would be utterly impossible, for anything short of a truly-omnipotent God that spanned cosmoses. \n\nThe man shifted his grip on the dagger, and squinted his eyes of ambiguous color toward the entity before him. Its tip still directed in aggression toward the god, he swung it at the open air towards it — with no directly relevant threat, of course. Still, it was worrisome the enchantment imbued to the weapon... And what he was attempting to get at with his threats from such a distance was perhaps even more worrisome. A spell? A curse? A distraction? Or merely idly swinging at nothingness before him...\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"Mmm. Right. It has become clear to me. The reason for your beneficiary's distasteful... Failures, correct.\"\n- \"Perhaps it is through the spigot of your divine blessing that the loathsome tincture of overconfidence has seeped through her soul. Or perhaps it is simply that you are like-minded with a single, immature being of a mortal.\"\n\n- \"Pettiness is so little fitting of an eternal being that it is almost laughable. The Grecians revolved their fables about the piddling idolatry that gods thought and sinned so easily as they. Disgusting, their sort. And yours.\"```\n\nHis indignity was not born of a wish to taunt, but merely to display his distaste for the very Essence Of those before him. A cold hatred penetrated his heart and tone as he spoke, eyes still honed in a disdainful squint at the deity, and so too was the tip of his wicked dagger still aimed at its formless mass. His left-hand's fingers tapped against the handle of the blade with impatience... And with the essence of the arcane imbued into their fleshy form.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"Right. It's as you know.\"\n- \"You are a divine entity of eternity, yet with finite strength. You are believed to be boundless, and yet all things are not held in the palm of your hand...\"\n- \"And so your beneficiary is of the same ilk.\"\n\n- \"Challenging those far beyond her own strength, picking fights with old beasts who exceed limitations in strength several rungs beyond those of her own corporeality... A pitiful sight that sores sored eyes.\"\n\n- \"Mmm. That is, so to say... You, and your beneficiary... Are overconfident.\"\n- \"You ought to know. 𝘖𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳.\"\n\n- \"Or perhaps eternity has pulled the fleece over your eyes.\"\n- \"Perhaps your eyes observe everything. But they do not 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦 everything.\"\n\n- \"Alas, even if blinded, your beneficiary will take the fall for your failures. Right. It is as I have said. Such is the folly of the divine taking personal interest in the mortal realm.\"\n- \"So it is, my question to you — how long do you believe her to last, following in the same vein of folly as you? It's only a matter of time. Mmm. Before she, a pilferer of this divine realm, is swallowed by such imprudence...\"```\n_ _\n\nHe subtly shifted the draw of his raw left hand's fingers, curling them in, and out, as though one who tugged on strings. His posture and body-language was most uncomfortable, and so too was his tone and way of speak. The malevolence that clung to his figure shifted and ebbed with each curl of his fingers, as though he called on its filthy nature to perform some sort of act for him.\n\n```diff\n- \"Yet I digress.\" \n- \"All of this is to say one thing. You will wrest no strength or knowledge from my being through threat.\"\n- \"The terms of our oath have been present before your all-hearing ears from the moment my preparations concluded. That you are unknowing of this fact proves your impotence.\"\n- \"If you so wish to press your illusion of control born of overconfidence, I should inform you — such a wish will not come to fruition.\"\n\n- \"Recede. I would speak to your beneficiary, as I requested. Or perhaps you think that an iron fist shall solve all issues. It will not. And those who think in such a desultory way are unworthy even of my attention.\"```" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"I can hear, and perceive you, as the divine before you claims.\" The cat speaks — voice strained as if she were fighting back the urge of revealing that information." }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"I am one and the same.\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"I am one and the same.\"" }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"It is through this painful vessel that I know now that perhaps, in my times in the Isles, I was Too Kind to the residents. Those who cast me aside. Those who banished me for doling out the punishments they Worshipped Me for.. No longer,\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"For I am not to be trifled with.\"" }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"In that case, perhaps the best punishment...\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Is , instead of binding You As an individual..\"" }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"Razing the church as a whole — leaving the entrances unaccessible...\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Mmnnn. ..\" This thought seems to have been constructed by the host itself, as the automatons turn around to defend from any potential attack that may come from behind or above the group. In the end, they still bow to the same body." }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"Your foolishness fails you yet again, it seems, for you twirl...\" The being would raise an eyebrow here, as if it actually had one. \"... A blade... Against a pile of goop. How terribly frightful.\" The speech grows tired and sarcastic, leading into quite the exaggerated yawn. \"How... Threatening. If I had boots, I'm sure I would be positively Quaking In them right now.\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"By speaking to the Timekeeper Cadwynn, rest assured you speak to me as well. I am present, and I am still willing to bargain.\"" }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"But, only a fair deal shall be allowed, lest we take our business elsewhere.\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"The art... Of the deal.\" The cat replies to her counterpart's message." }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"Verdan's teachings.\" He bows his head. \"You think that I am foolish — unknowing that you are attempting to set an ambush — that is not how this fight will go. I humbly suggest-\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"-you lay down your arms and submit before your blood finds itself a most unusual paint-\"" }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"-on these Wretched Walls.\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "She rises to her feet, looking at him. No, Glaring At him. \"I don't need what I already have. Your promise of eternal life doesn't benefit me in the slightest degree. What I Hunger For is knowledge, and what you desire... Is Freedom. Between those two things, what do you think is easier for me to throw away; knowledge, or the freedom of a stranger who would have me trapped to fulfill their desires?\"" }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "The ooze stands guard, vigilantly waiting out these \"Negotiations\", confident that the two halves — mind & body — had come to an accord within themselves, as this man demands to speak with the cat." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "She waits for about a second before raising her arms in a shrug. \"Well? You wanted to talk, let's talk.\"" }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Mmm...\"\n- \"Well. I am not entirely certain. Whether I should be disgusted... Or impressed.\"```\n\nHe continued to brandish his dagger, its tip aimed still at the formless mass before him. His tone was slow, in a half-groan, as he rubbed—`CRCK`—the back of his neck with his raw left hand, his ring finger snapping unnaturally as he reached to do so. Still with the odd curling-about of his fingers, the man squinted, and paused lengthily, following the two's coordinated speech. He would keep his eyes close on the tabaxi, his demeanor yet still with the underlying element of anger. The stranger cocked his head, and lowered his left hand yet again, with yet another revolting crack of one of his fingers.\n\n```diff\n- \"𝘔𝘯𝘯𝘯𝘨𝘩...\"```\n\nThe active pangs of pain brought about by the Minima's Toll had passed, yet the lasting damage that its bristly claws within his internal organs would not so conveniently fade away. Repressing further groans, the man took a rough breath in, pressing his left hand close to his heart.\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"Regardless. You two are each as I have thought, be it by the fated likeness of souls, or by the corruption brought about by a deity's descended ideals.\"\n- \"Mmm. Yes. I have made my mind up. You are indeed revolting.\"\n\n- \"Still yet, unknowing of why you do, you continue to strain your surfeit of prowess in combat over one who has done no more than offer you an oath of knowledge and of strength. How churlish.\"\n- \"Truly, you believe that the nature of this oath is intended to bind you to this church? 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.\"\n- \"For you, the beneficiary, perhaps such a lack of knowledge could be excused by your lack of perception... Mmm...\"\n- \"But. An all-seeing deity, incapable of rationalizing beyond a first glance... How dreadfully ironic.\"\n\n- \"Yes. That is correct. I did say — I would prefer to push aside such idle threats.\"\n- \"Or perhaps it is merely in your nature to kill all those who so superficially slight you. Mmm... Actually, that would make quite some sense.\"```\n\nThe man spoke, with a slight tug of his gnarled, raw, left index.\n\n```diff\n- \"In any matter... I do tire of your aggressive nature, lacking in subtlety.\"\n- \"Mmm. That is correct. The 𝘛𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 would not call to someone so... Adversarial.\"\n\n- \"I am rescinding the offer for oath. You deny the blessing of vitality, and you are utterly unworthy of a spider's 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢.\"\n\n- \"Ahh, but I would suppose... Someone who lusts for blood as you do... Would be quite vexed by such a statement.\"```\n_ _\n\nHis left hand furled tight into a fist, and the malevolent aura that enshrouded him amplified, even if only in slight. Within the moment that such a presence roused its head, something within the atmosphere about Tabby Shifts — and, within this moment, the ground at her feet becomes increasingly, worryingly... Sticky. Like the binding thread of a Spider. \n\n```diff\n- \"I ought to look out for my own life, after all.\"\n- \"For, indeed, as I did say, my only desire is to die a normal death, as any man would.\"\n- \"As you have so... Unpleasantly described... You seemed quite keen on taking my life, if our offer did not go precisely as you desired.\"```\n\nWere Tabby to direct her eyes to that which bound her feet to the ground, her glance would be met with the worrying sight of Red — the crimson taint which the man dripped from his slashed-then-impaled right hand, with intent for her to Digest. The blood, met not by her hands, but rather only by the floor, had puddled on the ground around her. Seeing as she had not moved from her initial position, its position was most beneficial for the man as Insurance. In the moments that he brandished and gathered their attention by idly swinging the dagger about in the air ahead of himself, he subtly manipulated the blood, congealing its form into a robust, sticky substance that would hold her to the ground.\n\n```diff\n- \"Indeed, as an all-seeing god... The fact that you could not see through this... Mmm.\"\n- \"An 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘩, you said... You are indeed impotent.\"```\n_ _\n\nThe man spoke, almost chuckling, yet not growing so complacent as to believe he had Already won. Indeed, if this did escalate to an actual battle, he would swiftly perish. And so, he slowly began pacing away from the quartet of threatening individuals, yet not before—\n\n*`CRCK`\n\nTabby's `Alert`* Feat warns of her an attack, as the man's left index finger twisted, the image of a crimson Spider Tattooed on his left hand glowing alight. A gale of malevolent energy gales towards Tabby, and yet there is no tangible damage dealt... Whatsoever. There was nothing to block, nothing to dodge, and nothing to intercept...\n\n...Except, there is a slight warmth, in the pocket which she tucked away the Vial That he granted her.\n\nIf she did not entrench herself so deeply within his planning before threatening to attack, she could have easily have won this battle. Yet, now, being so thoroughly entwined in his conniving and scheming... It posed itself as an incredibly a troublesome situation for one to be in. *Where she had tucked away the vial, she felt a subtle prick — as though a needle had stabbed into her body.*\n_ _\n\n```diff\n- \"The venom which has permeated your bloodstream, once initiated, will cause your body to become the breeding-ground for yet another 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢. You, being unbound by oath, would have your soul devoured, and you would certainly die.\"\n\n- \"Mmm... If I killed you where you stood, I would not have to worry about the irksome existence that is your deity. The thumbnail's grasp it has on this... Distant... Realm, so to say, would fade with your snuffed life.\"\n\n- \"Still.\"\n- \"I am not exactly fond on the idea of clashing with your machinations.\"\n- \"And so I am holding that venom from taking your life.\"\n\n- \"Ah. I suppose this should go without saying. Don't move... Or begin to cast a spell, tricky as you are. Negotiations are still well on the table... I am not so, ah. Boorish, was the word. —To take your life, or to use it as... Mmm... Material withwhich to bargain, for something I want of you. All I hope to use it for is to preserve my own.\"\n\n- \"Indeed. How dreadfully ironic, as I did say. That you... What was it... One who desired to rid the world of the depraved... Would use such unsophisticated and vengeful means to meet an end.\"\n- \"Such disgusting behavior is only fitting of men like me. Tricksters, vile men, those whose spirits have thoroughly been sullied by that malignant venom.\"```\n\nHe squinted, lowering his extended dagger to his side. He continued to take steps back and around the group, so to distance himself comfortably from any sort of sudden attacks that might come his way.\n\n_ _\n```diff\n- \"Working with you has proven itself to be a... Less than fruitless endeavour.\"\n- \"You are... Terribly lacking in subtlety, and, as is that beast, Vaazva, you are driven mad by the opportunity to kill another.\"\n- \"To continue to be in your presence any longer is only a liability to my life.\"\n- \"All this, so to say, depart. I would have no more of you or your god's words.\"\n\n- \"I will leave that venom in your blood to protect my own life... And to take yours, should you threaten me again.\"\n\n- \"Oh. And if you would go about that plan of razing this church — if you are somehow capable of razing stones... How you would go about doing such is a mystery — I would... Mmm. Certainly advise against such.\"\n- \"That terrible, silver-clad beast, which you encountered, would be most displeased.\"\n\n- \"Begone, now, then.\"```" } ]	34	5,696
230.714286	2022-05-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "Cadwynn the ooze is most displeased with this with this turn of events, awaiting some kind of attack for their refusal to move. Or, rather, the cat's inability to.\n\n\"I believe you have sorely misunderstood my motivation. I act only in self-preservation, the same as you. You raised the knife, you willfully ignored even the most simple instruction to Discuss terms, and you yourself Admit To wrongdoing. You willfully ignore the circumstance you find yourself in, and it is You Who wished Vaazva dead enough to send the cat in chase. You are the party who has done wrong, and I am Very Interested in seeing how you attempt to... What was it... Eat her soul... Mm..\"\n\n\"The threat is not what I would have done to you, nor what the mortal we stand beside can attempt either. The threat is something far, far into the future.\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"It comes for us all, the ruler of all things in the end. Something that spans all cosmos in a never-ending conquest." }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"But to think that poison would be effective in the slightest is... A little silly, admittedly, for it will not stop the inevitable. I would watch your back, and I warn you that you will never be safe.\"\n\nOf course, Cadwynn is aware that such a minima would be ineffective at best, and entirely useless at worst. Yet, despite this, they still refuse to move.\n\n\"You ask us to leave, and refuse to undo the bindings you have placed on the beneficiary. I will do you no harm myself, as I know that whatever awaits you will certainly be much worse than what I could presently do. However, I believe there is unattended business in this church that I would like to see personally..\"\n\nThe ooze moves away from the man, ignoring whatever silly baby-tier threat he made to Tabby and heads towards the Illusory wall, tendrils wrapping around the door knob and opening it.\n\n_ _\nShould the man use the Minima, a Reaction Would occur to deal with such a feeble threat. It appears that Cadwynn has figured something out about the nature of the __Poison__ the man had employed. For all the planning in the world, the creator would soon come to find out a neat piece of information.\n\nTabby's blood does not move fast, nor is it warm in any sense of the word, not even room-temperature. It is as if she had died long ago. That is to say, Poison Is somewhat ineffective. A threat, surely, but not one that is deemed mission critical to the deity right about now. No, that's not what rebuke Cadwynn would have in mind in the circumstance provided before him." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "The cat, of course, is unaware of this, and looks both shocked and confused when Cadwynn neglects leaving, her machines hoisting her up and following the goopy being once her shackles are released. If, They are, that is. She remains silent and unresponsive to any potential threats as well, waiting for her release." }, { "author": "Cadwynn of Whiteridge", "message": "\"Whether it be through influence of this cat or not, I'm rather Interested What this altar is in worship of... Surely you wouldn't be offended if we take a look, yes..?\"" }, { "author": "?", "message": "```diff\n- \"Mmm.\"```\n\nThe man grumbled, doing no more than raising a single brow at the two's coordinated words. The synchronicity that they had achieved was most perturbing, especially, for one of his nature. That which they spoke unto him, two each of their own natures, yet bound together by some sort of spiritual tie, would be a most peculiar event to behold, and yet, the content of their words were, for the most part... Empty, to him. He was more invested in the way in which they spoke rather than what they actually said; the man had lost all interest in attempting to further converse with the two. Any misstep in communication, as it had formerly been proven, would be a threat to his own life.\n\nHe hadn't an idea what the deity meant to say — that He, The stranger, himself, had started the conflict? `Mmm.` That was not at all how he remembered it going down. Or perhaps his memory faulted him; or perhaps the deity wished to make him doubt his own mind. To him, the latter was not foreign at all as a diplomatic tactic, especially in personal relations... Of course, someone such as himself would be quite familiar with it. \n\n`Well.`\n_ _\n\nFor any matter, he truly hadn't any further business with the two. With a disturbing crack of his left index finger, and a slight glow of the arachnoid tattoo on the back of the hand to which the finger belonged, the Congealed blood at Tabby's feet returned to a liquidous state, Allowing her free motion once more. As the blood had begun to permeate her bloodstream, even as slow as it was going, he hadn't a doubt of its efficacy once it had Truly Been initiated. \n\n'Twould be quite awkward were they to both continue occupying the church which he was bound to. The tabaxi's need for exploration had already annoyed him once, with her digression to fight the Silver Knight. And now, her deity, one-in-the-same, would travel to that hall. How troublesome.\n\nStill, he would have to keep an open eye to ensure they were not subtly attempting to take this church down on his head.\n\nA suspicious glance is shot from the man, dagger still firm in his right palm, as he allows them to walk on by, keeping at a distance advisable by his own caution while still allowing him a clear line-of-sight toward the four." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "As Cadwynn enters the room and closes the door behind his liquid self, the guardians stop moving forward, allowing Tabby to turn her head to the man and shake it. \"He's an idiot.\" She draws an uninhibited breath, \"One who overreacts like he lives in some kind of glory day where everyThing And everyOne Is out to get him.\"\n\n\"For what it's worth, I apologize for his stupidity. Really. He acts out and attacks because he doesn't know. He feels trapped in a body well below his liking.\" She pauses, pondering something for a minute. \"I wonder if he thinks he'll be able to go back to how things were if he Does End up being the death of me.\" \n\n\"He attempted to attack Vaazva for reaching towards my throat. Pff.\" The cat rolls her eyes and sighs. \"We both know how that turned out. I guess the arrangement isn't All bad, few sharper senses here and there.. Get a bloodthirsty entity in your head.\" Her Defender blinks a few times. \"If I wanted to kill him there – Vaazva – I probably Wouldn't Have summoned the Shield Guardian as a threat...\" The construct that's being dragged through the mud remains stoic; after all, it did its duty as programmed. It has no reason to feel bad. Can it even feel emotion? Probably not.\n\nThe Defender tilts its head and raises its chin to the door, motioning that they should probably follow, to which Tabby shakes her head in turn. No, he'll learn the hard way. So they stop outside the door, the watch remaining open – revealing that although the ooze does leave quite a messy trail, it must remain tethered. Her tail raises and sways lightly as she awaits the following few minutes.\n\n\"Give him a few seconds to poke around and get poked. He's jealous that there's not a statue like that for him in this world.\"" } ]	191	1,615
283.25	2024-04-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Gaige", "message": "He would soon enough arrive at the grand entryway into the church. The doors were gilded with gold, two pillars standing to the sides of them, \"Talk about fancy, huh?\" Gaige admired the extravagant design of the church as he pushed the doors open with both his hands, making his entrance into the church.\n\nHe was immediately met with the grandiose interior of the church, two things standing out to him the moment he set foot within the church: the massive doors that stood at the end of the hallway that expanded outward, and the bloodied man who stood to the right of the entry. A pool of blood rested at the base of the man as he leaned out the window, likely enthralled by the star that covered the land. Gaige slowly took a few more steps into the barren church, his footsteps echoing throughout the hall. He glanced towards the enormous double doors at the end of the hall and then back towards the unusual man. The doors were no doubt a way deeper into the church, but Gaige had taken curiosity in the bloodied man.\n\nTurning his body towards the man, Gaige greeted the man, \"Hey, you know the way to the altar?\" He nonchalantly asked the mysterious stranger for directions, disregarding the bloodstained floor beneath him." }, { "author": "?", "message": "The man, peeking open only an eye when Gaige entered, scrunched his brow lightly seeing the arrival of another outsider. But as Gaige questioned, his visage became slightly more questioning. His query was simple enough, however. \n\nHe pointed at the giant door opposite Gaige." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "Gaige looked towards the door that the man pointed at, \"Oh for real? Thanks,\" Gaige thanked the man before following his advice and opening the two giant doors." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "As Gaige approached the vast door, he would take notice of two great statues, both flanking him on either side of the church. \n\nTo his left, one who wore an unboastful set of armor with undefined and subtle traits, with accents of polished, untarnished silver alongside its form. Despite how the rest of the church seemed unmaintained and worn over the years, the statue persisted in impeccable condition... Almost as though it had been stopped in time. A slightly familiar, ethereal, achronal mana clings to its form, detectable only upon close examination.\n\nTo his right, one most incredibly familiar: a statue of one who dons the champion armor of the Solar Knights. Quite like that of Kaaze's, it was emblazoned, proud, and most certainly seasoned and proven on the battlefield; the depicted armor of the statue possessed traits both strong and defining, and its form was finely accented with a rusted, brass-gold mixture of metals. Indeed, it was almost identical to the one he had seen at the very pinnacle of the greattower, the Embrace of Sol: The statue of the `SOLAR GUARDIAN`. And yet, its form was damaged, especially in such a fashion that it seemed purposeful; it was missing its head, cracks running all throughout it, as though it had suffered several blunt impacts made purposefully to deface its once-glorious form.\n_ _\n\nSlabs rested at the foot of each statue, seemingly formerly-engraved with some sort of text. Yet, unlike the dignified form of the statue on the left, and unlike the perseverant form of the statue on the right, the text-engraved slabs were neither timeless nor robust enough to survive the many years they lay untended within the abandoned church. Faint, individual fragments of words could be made out. \n\nOn the right—\n```S[ — ] GUARDAN A[—]KUE\nF[ — ]N OF [...] G[ — ]S\nTO WHOM [ — ] BE[ — ]D [...]\nHEA[-] KNIGHT OF [ ... ]```\n\nAnd on the left—\n```[ ... ] UKUE\nSECONDBORN OF [ ... ]\n[...] EIKOKUE B[ — ] [ ... ]\n[...] KNIGHT OF [ ... ]```\n\nFinally, front-and-center, and just ahead of the two great stone doors Gaige was about to push through, was a third and final statue. Its form was truly tremendous, dwarfing the twin statues on either side of Gaige — despite the fact that They Dwarfed Gaige himself — and its construction utterly impeccable; undamaged as much as the one on the left, though relying not on any achronal mana, its persistence made possible through the sheer durability of its construction alone. It donned armor that seemed a fusion of both the left and right statue, and upon its simple-yet-imposing helm, was the form of a Rune. A rune like the sun, infused with mana, glowing the deep-crimson of a dying star. Within the grip of the statue's right hand was the stone image of a Twinblade, and at its foot is also a slab of stone engraved with text.\n\nThis slab, however, was completely untouched by time. It, too, was as durable as the statue above it.\nThus it reads, in gilded text:\n \n```\nPRAISE THE UEZER EIKOKUE\nBEGETTER OF TWO GUARDIANS\nHERO OF THE SUN\nMENTOR OF OUR LORD, THE TAAE CHEIT EZER.\n```" } ]	161.5	1,133
426	2024-04-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Gaige", "message": "The hero would stop right before the ginormous door, taking notice of the two statues. One was in an impeccable condition, one that would not be possible without some form of magic keeping it that way; the other was not given the same treatment it would seem. Gaige immediately recognized the right statue, it being one of Aazkue—albeit damaged. The left one he could not say the same for, the prophet unbeknownst to who it was of. It had to have been of someone important no doubt. It seemed hard to believe that they would construct a nameless statue next to one of the Solar Guardian.\n\nGaige's eyes averted to the base of the statues, seeing the texts that were written upon the slabs. Unfortunately for the hero, the texts had been met with the wrath of years; Gaige could only read the fragmented words that were left behind. He moved to the base of the left statue, kneeling before it as his right hand began to glow with solar energy.\n\n\"Fortunately for me...\" Gaige whispered to himself as he began to cast the vow of Solar Reversion, _`QQOQEIVUE EZUEK.`_ Time began to rewind on the slab, the faded words beginning to return to a pristine state. Before reading the slab in its entirety, the hero stood back up, maneuvering himself to the other statue and casting the vow yet again. With both slabs now hopefully restored to their original state, Gaige took one more look at the broken statue of the Solar Guardian, \"Hm...\" His hand glowed a vibrant yellow yet again, the hero casting Solar Reversion upon the statue. The dents in the statue began to reshape into their original self, the cracks began to fill, and the head floated back to its rightful place, \"Much better.\" Gaige smiled, impressed with his own prowess.\n\nGaige's attention returned to the now-restored slabs, kneeling once more to read them." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "A distinctive magic weaves into the form of an auric miracle. Light sheathes over time as Gaige brought forth the fourth and final solar miracle, a brilliance like that of a star engulfing the two slabs and the statue of the Solar Guardian. \n\nThere is Unity in Disparity.\nThere is Disparity in Unity.\nThere is Unity within the Disparity that lies within Unity. \nThere is Disparity within Unity that lies within Disparity.\nThese truths continue forever, one within another, and that is:\nThe tenet of Sempiternity.\n\nThe Sun of Reversion.\nSolar Glory.\n__`Ｑｏｑｑｅｉｖｕｅ　Ｅｚｕｅｋ．`__\n\nThe stones shift, as time is literally rewound upon the forms of the slabs. Gaige could feel his mind and body immersed wholly within the miracle as his trifold `SOUL` Gave it shape, all three as though they were sifting through time, itself. It was like his memories and physicality were being puller, tugged upon by the weight of the past — all as though converging towards a singular, earlier iteration. It was in this moment that a quote Gaige had earlier heard would come to mind:\n_ _\n\n```\n\"𝑻𝒐 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑰𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆.\"```\n\n...Even though he had already learned the miracle that was the Sun that Purifies — `QUETAA EZUEK`, It still felt as though he was... Missing, Something, fundamental to the spell. It was incomplete, and so too was his understanding of it.\n\nNonetheless, it is effective. The statue on the right is returned to a mostly in-tact shape — still possessing several major cracks, though now with its head upon its shoulders — and the slabs are returned to a readable state. \n\nTo the right—\n```\nSOLAR GUARDIAN AAZKUE\nFIRSTBORN OF THE TWIN GUARDIANS\nTO WHOM EIKOKUE BEQUEATHED EZERO\nHEAD KNIGHT OF THE KNIGHTS OF SOL.```\n\nTo the left—\n```\nECLIPSE GUARDIAN UKUE\nSECONDBORN OF THE TWIN GUARDIANS\nTO WHOM EIKOKUE BEQUEATHED TVETRAA\nFIRST KNIGHT OF THE ECLIPSE.```" }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "The quote he had heard once before repeated within the mind of Gaige, pondering it for but a moment. He hadn't felt any different after utilizing Qoqqeivue Ezuek again, but who's to say it wouldn't affect him one day?\n\n. . .\n\nA book manifested within the hands of Gaige, the hero opening it to a page near the end. With nothing more than a look of dissatisfaction, the book was cast aside back to the depths of his `SOULS`. \"Still the same...\" He mumbled to himself.\n\nGaige did feel the incompleteness of the solar vow though, the statue of Aazkue showcasing signs of wear and tear despite his best efforts. Something was indeed missing from the spell, but the hero had no guidance towards what yet. His gaze affixed itself to the two slabs, reading them for their entirety.\n\n\"...Maybe could've guessed who the silver statue was,\" He whispered to himself with a slight smile and a chuckle. Though, it did beg the question: who were—or _are_—the Twin Guardians? Perhaps it referred to the persons in the statues themselves—Aazkue and Ukue being the Twin Guardians. It would make a deal of sense he supposed.\n\nHe stood from his kneeling position, looking back at the strange man once more before placing both hands upon the stone doors and pushing them open. He would be met with the final statue of the trio, no doubt one of Eikokue if going off what the slab below it stated. It also strengthened his initial idea that the Twin Guardians were Aazkue and Ukue. With the final slab read, Gaige would fully step into the room beyond the stone doors." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Pushing the two great stone doors open with a loud *Rumble, a powerful, celestial aura cascaded forth. The atmosphere dramatically began to shift the moment that Gaige even opened the doors, and their two monolithic forms swung open, he would be dazzled by Crimson light.*" } ]	380	1,704
415.125	2022-04-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "A cylindrical room with a slightly eerie atmosphere. Great pillars line the walls of its interior, each flanked on either side by what appears to be coffins hewn of a luxurious, smooth stone. It appears to be an honorable place of burial, yet is overcome with what appears to be recently-placed, shabby wooden coffins lining the walls.\n\nOnce he had reached the top of the incredibly long spiral-staircase, Gaige would encounter what was, literally, a Solid roof. However, the moment he were to place his foot upon the third-to-last step before the slab of stone that marked the end of the spiral-staircase, he could hear a Subtle `clic`, As the roof above him slid to the side, revealing an entirely new location with an atmosphere quite different to that of the caverns below.\n\nDeparting from the spiral-staircase, he'd find himself within the direct center of the strange room whose walls and pillars were lined with coffins. A place of the dead, yet not one as decrepit and disgusting as the one he had found before; no, rather, this place seemed to have a strange aura of holiness to it, likely granted to the strange system of lighting that illuminated its interior. Indeed, it almost felt like a place of reverence, tranquil, and displaying of architecture which had civil intelligence to it, greatly unlike the cave overrun with roots below.\n\nIt appeared that he had entered through a Secret door. The slab of stone that slid to the side was now clearly revealed to be a False tile in the floor, Moved to the side by some form of autonomous mechanism. Luckily, he was going Up, Not Down; Who knows how long it would've taken one to find the method to reveal that door...\n_ _\n\nAs Gaige accustoms himself to his new surroundings, he may take note of... A most Imposing Presence, some distance ahead of him. Positioned close to one of the walls of the cylindrical room, there was a Knight, donning full, golden-tinted armor, and wielding what appeared to be a brazen halberd. The knight wasn't just tall — it was bordering on Massive, At a staggering 250cm in height. Judging by the shape of its thick metal armor, it had an incredible physique to match its incredible height.\n\nLuckily for Gaige, however, it hadn't taken note of him, completely motionless, with one hand rested on its halberd that stood upright. Behind the knight is a staircase leading upwards, and likely the way he would have to continue, were he to wish to keep ascending." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "Upon reaching the top, Gaige let out a silent yawn, stretching his arms out after having climbed the tens of steps. He hadn't really been paying much attention as he climbed the staircase, brushing the trapdoor off as a normal occurrence. Blinking his eyes repeatedly, he examined the room he had found himself in. Cleanly and bathing in rays of gold was the room, Gaige relieved to be out of the cave finally. `Good change of scenery from the abandoned state of that cave. Wonder just how big this tower is...?` The man thought to himself, imagining just how expensive this room alone would be in the modern world. He abandoned those monetary thoughts quick however, turning his attention to the oblivious knight that stood by the staircase. `More stairs huh... And what I can assume is a Knight of Sol as well.`\n\nThe man took cover behind a nearby pillar, gathering his thoughts to create a plan. `The best way to handle this guy would be just killing him from here right now while he doesn't notice me. Though, I could learn a lot about how these knights fight if I were to garner his attention...` Gaige's thought process could definitely be described as... Eccentric, when faced with danger. The man often went the most insane and irrational plans when it came to situations like this, and this situation would end up following the status quo. Gaige had concocted a plan on how to deal with the knight: conversation.\n\n_ _\nGaige stepped out into the open corridor, exposing himself to the grand knight. \"Yo,\" He shouted to gain the knight's attention, his hands raised in a sign of peace, \"Willing to have a chat, _Knight of Sol_?\" The man utilized the official name of the order which the knight—assumedly—belonged to. This was in an attempt to showcase to the knight he was no random adventurer, but one who knew who they were. In the end, his plan did rely on the knights being able to understand him. Due to his conversation with Okot, he had a fair deal of confidence that they'd be able to converse. Gaige kept his hands raised, prepared to take action against the knight if they were to advance upon the man." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "The knight's posture shifts, as it appeared to have taken notice of Gaige's presence. Its grip on the halberd in its right hand visibly shifted, and no longer does it rest it against the ground, instead brandishing it at its side, demonstrating that it was prepared for battle. It tilted the halberd, resting its lower half within its left hand, facing Gaige head-on. Moments before it could take summary action to attack the intruder before it, however, Gaige spoke, and it seemed to hesitate...\n\n```fix\n\"𝙼𝚖𝚖...\"```\n\nThe knight gives a low grunt, acknowledging the statement that he made. The knight did, indeed, seem to understand him, pausing for a moment, as he contemplated...\n\n```fix\n\"𝚈𝚘𝚞, 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙶𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚘𝚕...\"```\n\n—he spoke, the ROSWALT system within Gaige's ear mirroring his speech of a foreign language in English. The knight's voice was deep, masculine, yet was not rasp, rather smooth, free-flowing and quite elegant. The essence of duty was in his tone, and so too was it in his aura and very appearance.\n\n```fix\n\"𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍...\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\"𝑼𝑵𝑭𝑰𝑻 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵 𝑻𝑶 𝑬𝑿𝑰𝑺𝑻.\"```\n\n*The knight two-handedly slams the bladeless end of its halberd into the ground, as a palpable aura of physical might rouses from within his armor.* A clearer demonstration of hostility could not be found — the knight had disregarded both his request to speak as well as his usage of the title 'Knight of Sol'. To the guardian of the Ground Gate, all such semantics were irrelevant. An intruder was before him, and so they must be struck down. Adamant in its position at the front of the stairs, the knight would not make a movement until Gaige first approached, in which time, the knight would certainly attack." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "The hero did not react to the knight's show of force, continuing to stare him down. `Hm... The translation is nice I will admit.` Gaige did not approach the knight either, the two being at a stand still temporarily, the man saying nothing for a period of time. Eventually, he spoke again, \"You considered it, didn't you?\" Not appearing phased at all by the stature of the knight or his threat, Gaige continued trying to converse. \"I don't have any intention to cause harm here, _Knight of Sol_. As of now, your order has been nothing but a benefit to me.\" Gaige stayed where he was, not moving any closer. `Maybe I should continue to recite what I've learned...`\n\n\"In fact, the concept you've created—Unity in Disparity by using only Sol... I find it interesting myself. In the time I've been here, I've come to understand a great deal about your order.\" He began reciting knowledge he had learned from the cave, mixing it in with compliments. \"_I'm even capable of utilizing your prayers, Knight of Sol._\" The man took one step forward, ending his recital of knowledge for the time being as he awaited a response from the knight." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "```fix\n\"𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆,\"\n\"𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒚.\"```\n\nThe knight spoke, his voice demanding, and thundering even from across the moderate distance between the two. Still, having made not a step, the knight holds his ground, halberd clasped between his two armored hands without a sign of loosening.\n\n```fix\n\"𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐥, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.\"\n\"𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞.\"\n\"𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞,\"\n\"𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍, 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒛𝒆𝒓, 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒆.\"```\n\nAn acknowledgement, yet also a disregard of Gaige's attempts at using the things he had learned of the ways of the Knights of Sol to convince himself. \n\n```fix\n\"𝑵𝒐𝒘, 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆...\"\n\"𝑩𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅.\"```\n\nSuch a statement was not just a solemn warning, but a promise. Duty, unto the very end, was a core characteristic of the unerring knight before him. The Knights of Sol had no influence on him like the promise of purity, and the promise of purity had no influence on him like the duty of guardianship. And, even the duty of guardianship, had no influence on him like that of the Ezer's, his lord, his king, and the one to whom his oath was given." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "Gaige held his ground still, not complying with the knight's requests. He still had his ace in the hole after all. He stood in silence, appearing to be in thought as the two stared each other down. Gaige spoke, \"I possess the ability to use _the Sun of Reversion_.\" He gave the knight a friendly smile, \"Does that change your mind, knight?\" The man knew that the prayer he mentioned was one of _Ukue's_, who he had pieced together as an enemy to the _Knights of Sol_.\n\nDespite the knowledge he had of _Ukue_ and his assumed relationship with the _Knights of Sol_, he utilized his knowledge of the prayer as a show of force. The prayer itself was not the threat, but instead the existence of another being _capable_ of using it. \"I assume you're well aware of why I'm telling you this, correct? One last chance: are you willing to have a chat?\" The man took another step forward towards the knight, mana beginning to surge around his figure." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Descending the stairs, Kuouo would find himself in a most precarious situation — Directly behind what was about to become a fully-escalated fight. Dead-ahead of him, once he had begun to descend the stairs, was the figure of a Giant, gold-armored man, Halberd held within his hands, facing a most familiar face: Gaige." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "```fix\n\"...\"```\n\nNo further response. The knight is holding his ground, irresponsive and unthreatened by Gaige's further attempts to speak and even threaten the knight." } ]	359.5	3,321
699.583333	2022-04-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Gaige", "message": "A light frown was plastered on the man's face, his smile fading. He continued staring at the knight for a moment, waiting for him to say anything, but... Nothing. \"In that case... It would seem as though negotiations have broken down, _Knight of Sol_. It's a shame we couldn't learn from each other. Though, perhaps... I could still benefit from your knowledge.\" Gaige held his ground, not taking a step towards the armored warrior. The weight of the knight's armor began to increase immensely.\n\nA telekinetic force began pressing down on the knight's armor, seeming to be an attempt to force him to kneel. `A real shame it had to come to this. I had hoped maybe I could come to an agreement with them.` Gaige thought in sorrow over the missed opportunity; it would seem the Knights of Sol were too duty-bound to be negotiated with. The man hoped his current input of force on the knight would render him immobile, but judging by his sheer size... Gaige's hopes were low. He made no attempt to move closer to the knight, \"If I were you, I'd just give in. I've been told you knights prefer to be in close combat with your opponent. Me? Mmm...\" The hero put his hand on his chin, before giving the knight a shrug with his arms, \"I'm pretty confident you'd lose to me in melee combat... But why take the risk? You've got nothing on me at this range besides a few prayers, right?\" He smirked at the knight, taunting him as he continued his telekinetic assault." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo quietly descended the stairs, his paws softly sliding down each step as to make sure he didn't arouse the attention of anymore knights. He'd hate to admit it, but beating down two knights and activating Act Two took more out of him than he's like. Getting into a death battle now would certainly—\n\n```Ah hell, where'd I leave Infernium this time?```\n\nKuouo called his dagger's name, ``\"Infernium,\"`` and continued down the stairs. He held his left paw in the air, awaiting the dagger's soulbound express delivery whilist descending the last half-flight. He did a 180, the dagger taking a couple seconds longer than usual before whirling into his palm. \n\n```fix\n\"Geez, took ya long en-\"```\n\nThe bandit immediately stopped walking backwards, swiveling around to see vaguely familar corridor with, more importantly, a showdown in the midst of starting. Kuo clenches his teeth, scrambling behind the pillar as he measured the beheamoth.\n\n```He's just about as big as the King of the Underground..!! And, and..—```\n\nKuouo pokes his head out, scanning the area due to hearing a Familiar hero's Voice once more. That disheveled head of hair, the cockiness, and the way he carried himself... There was no doubt about it. Kuouo smirked to himself, watching the fight continue to unfold in front of him.\n\n```Daheh! Gaige's got 'em on the ropes. Let's see what this guy can do against 'em! Gaige better beat his ass.```\n\nKuouo made the final decision to stay behind the pillar... For now, anyways. He'll jump in if the fight gets hairy, but for now he'd rather use this time to recover the stamina lost in his battle just minutes ago." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "```fix\n\"𝑺𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒕. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏.\"```\n\nSo the knight spoke, interrupting Gaige's initial statement. He continued in his wait, unattacking, until the moment Gaige would make his move, yet would not humor him further words — combat and protection was his duty, and never to speak with a foe. Luckily for the new arrival, it did not appear that the knight had yet noticed Kuouo, some distance behind himself. Rather, the knight's attention was solely focused on the adversary before him, halberd at-the-ready to strike.\n\n. . .\n\nAnd so, he made the first move.\nA telekinetic assault — downwards force, overwhelming even to a trained knight and guardian, furthering the already burdensome weight of the thick armor that shielded his frame. To a normal creature even of his own size, it would perhaps be too much to handle — yet, for the knight, Kaaze, it would prove only to slow him, the encumbrance of the extra weight still supported by his tremendous physicality. \n\n`How disadvantageous.`\n\nThe knight grumbled, silently, troubled in part by the control of such substantial downwards force at the considerable distance between them. Indeed, despite his halberd's incredible reach, Gaige was still beyond his effective scope-of-attack, and, given such a handicap as the excessive weighing force upon his armor, he would certainly have a tough time closing the gap.\n\n...However, that would not deter him. He had a duty, to protect the Ground Gate for as long as he lived, and Gaige had taken an offensive against it. *So he must be quelled.\n_ _\n\nWithout a word further, the Knight slams one foot forwards, adjusting itself to the new weight and balance of its motion.* Familiarized, it takes another step forward, then another, before breaking into a Surprisingly-fast-yet-clearly-burdened charge, Closing the gap between itself and Gaige. Slowed, by the motion of his telekinesis, what would be a forceful and swift overhead slam with the halberd became a Wearisome, telegraphed attack that sought to strike him down, Posing a considerable, yet dampened threat that Likely could not be blocked, But could very well be Dodged to the side." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Sidestep sidestep sidestep sidestep sidestep sidestep sidestep sidestep" }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "Gaige was taken aback by the knight's adversity to communication, his speech having been interrupted. \"Little rude to interrupt someone, ain't it? Have it your way though.\" With that, Gaige enacted his telekinetic assault, the weight bearing down on the knight. Gaige raised an eyebrow at the knight as he still stood his ground despite the force. \"Huh, am I weak or are you just strong then...? Guess we'll find out soon.\" Gaige cracked a smile after his remark, remaining in his position—unarmed.\n\nGaige's surprised expression furthered as the knight slammed his foot, beginning to charge at the man. In truth, Gaige had underestimated the knight greatly, expecting him to be rendered immobile from the weight. Any great warrior has fallbacks though. As the knight approached the man, Gaige uttered the soulbound's weapon name—however, calling it in a different manner. \"_Okaarum_, Return.\"\n\n_ _\nWith his right arm pulled back, palm facing the knight... *A massive chunk of bone manifested at the palm of Gaige. The bone was shaped like an ovular pillar—a meter in length and roughly 29 centimeters in diameter.* The enormous pillar of bone was covered in jagged edges and cracks all throughout its composition. \n\n*```diff\n- THE ORIGINAL FORM OF OKAARUM — BONE PILLAGED FROM THE ANCIENT DRAGON CYYVIRRTH. -```\n\n\nThe telekinesis that burdened the stalwart knight took leave, likely throwing his balance off. With the knight being in the range of Okaarum, Gaige's palm suddenly thrusted forward. The peak human strength of the hero violently sent the pillar hurtling towards the knight's upper abdomen, Gaige further enhancing the ferocity of the attack with telekinesis.\n \nWith the combination of the knight hopefully being off balance, Gaige's assault of physical and telekinetic strength, and the surprise of a frontal attack, the hero counted on the pillar sending the knight reeling back.\n\n_ _\nSLAM\n\nThe sound of the hunk of pure dragon bone colliding against the metal of the knight rang out through the room and up throughout the staircase with deafening volume. The sheer impact of the bone birthed a torrent of wind, blowing past the towering knight—even Kuouo being able to feel the strength of the gale. Gaige's hand tingled—a feeling of numbness residing in his palm for a moment. Even still, this power was but a figment of the hero's former strength.\n\nAfterwards, the pillar would fall to the ground with a Crash* Around a meter from Gaige's location. The hero himself couldn't weather his own power either, stumbling to a kneel, and catching himself with his left palm. It wasn't a matter of overexertion, but a matter of the sheer amount of weight put into the strike luckily. The hero would quickly recover, getting back to his two feet to examine the damage done to the knight." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "Momentously charging towards Gaige, the knight's halberd had only just begun its ascent, as Gaige coordinated a four-faceted counterattack construed to harshly counter its crushing overhead. As the telekinetic force pushing downwards leased from its body, the knight miscoordinates several of its many steps, barely managing to stay upright as it was forced to adjust its grip and stance with its halberd, Halting its attempt to attack before it had even started. The towering knight began to regain its posture — but it is too late, his instinctive combat sense piqued by a brutal counter-attack that had clearly been prepared ahead of time. \n\n`A sorcery of such power, utilized not only to slow my movements, but also to impede my sense of balance. Then, a crushing counterattack, where my halberd cannot reach...`\n\nThe knight seemed to take note of the bound-weapon Okaarum's Existence within the very instant that it appeared — or perhaps even in the moment Before It appeared — his incredible combat-intuition revealing to him the nature of the attack to follow Gaige's initial ploy of interrupting his balance. While Kaaze had not yet set his eyes on the offensive before him, he could Sense That it was a meticulously-planned counterattack, albeit lacking in sheer refinement in execution. His reaction was not quite that of awe, but still of respect nonetheless; the battle was to the death, yet a warrior such as Kaaze could appreciate the intricacies of Gaige's counterattack, despite it being made to take Kaaze's own life.\n\nSuch refined senses were not enough to grant Kaaze the ability to dodge, however. His tremendous physique was both a great blessing and a minor curse, simultaneous — it granted him an extreme advantage in reach and posture, and greatly complemented his innate, monstrous strength, yet also was a shackle that prevented him from dextrously weaving about attacks such as Gaige's. Thus, without chance to dodge, the pillar collides with his thick, metallic armor, its extreme kinetic energy backed by superhuman and telekinetic force partially compressing the metal — denting its surface quite noticeably — and channeling that same energy throughout the knight's own body. Flowing from his armor into his flesh and bone, the shockwave from the pillar's impact sent a brutal, momentous energy throughout Kaaze's entire upper body, fully interrupting his swinging motion and forcing him into a violent, backwards recoil.\n\nDespite his gargantuan stature, the knight stumbled backwards in a manner mirroring that of Gaige himself. Kaaze's raw advantage in weight was surmounted by the sheer force-output of Gaige's telekinesis, and so he, too, collapses to the ground, fallen upon a single knee. Again, simultaneous to Gaige's own motion, he stands to his own two feet — clearly damaged, enough to partially debilitate him, yet not render him vastly diminished in combat-effectiveness — utilizing his halberd to support his weight upright.\n_ _\n\n```fix\n\"𝑯𝒎𝒎.\"\n\n\"𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆,\"\n\"𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒅, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒚, 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒉, 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅.\"\n\n\"𝑨𝒔 𝒂 𝑲𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒐𝒍, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒀𝒆𝒔, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒉 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌.\"```\n\nKaaze speaks, almost regretfully, his tone of dismissive duty, in part, allayed. For a moment, it almost seemed as though he was welcoming Gaige, yet he continued—\n\n```fix\n\"𝒀𝒆𝒕. 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒛𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍,\"\n\"𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖...\"\n\"𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕, 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.\"\n\n\"𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒚. 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒚 𝒏𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.\"\n\"𝑴𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝑲𝒂𝒂𝒛𝒆. 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆.\"\n\"𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘: 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.\"```\n\n_ _\nKAAZE, THE GATE GUARDIAN, Declares, unclasping his left hand from his halberd, wielding it boastfully at his side. A peering, red glow emanates from within the knight's helm, and it is in this very moment, that Gaige is forced to a realization:\n\n*Up until this moment in time, Kaaze's eyes have been closed.\n\n```fix\n\"𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐀 𝐄𝐙𝐔𝐄𝐊\"```\n\n```cpp\n\"Sun that Purifies — Solar Cleanse.\"```\n\nThe knight cast his left hand to his side, and an all-encompassing, glorious eminence of a deep, crimson red glow engulfs Kaaze's body. The very essence of Singularity* Burns forth from the almost flamelike red glow — it was the nature of Disparity, itself, severing all exterior influences, curses, and abilities from the knight's body. Further attempts to weigh him down with telekinesis would be entirely ineffective.\n\n```fix\n\"𝐎𝐄𝐙𝐔𝐄𝐊\"```\n\n```cpp\n\"Sun that Destroys — Solar Imbuement.\"```\n\nA powerful crimson flame engulfs not Kaaze's halberd — but rather, his Empty, left hand. The flame was a deep red — like that of a star nearing the end of its lifecycle. Its all-burning, all-consuming flame scorched even Kaaze's own armor and flesh, yet he did not even display so much as a flinch, his focus still set on the man before him.\n\n```fix\n\"𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭.\"```\n\nThis was his courtesy. To show Gaige each of the cards he possessed, to reveal the entirety of his strength, and to allow him again the opportunity to Make the first attack." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "As he saw the massive knight stumble backwards, Gaige made a move forward, recovering _Okaarum_. He held the prodigious hunk of bone atop his right shoulder, his right arm holding it in place as if it were a log. He glared at Kaaze as he regained his footing from the immense attack, \"Ready to call it quits, knight?\" The hero again offered a chance at diplomacy, his hopes of it working dim. Gaige eyed the damage that had been dealt to the knight, `Impressive that he's still standing after that. He must be wounded though.` He reflected upon the blow he had dealt. To Gaige, the first blow of any battle was always what mattered the most. One good first blow can either end the battle, or make the rest easier. The latter was the case here.\n\nGaige was surprised to hear the knight speak again. He hadn't expected to hear his voice again after his dismissal of conversation, \"Always nice to get a compliment after being belittled by those corporate fucks. Not too bad yourself if you're able to stand still after that.\" Gaige complimented the knight, setting the mighty pillar down beside him with a Slam. He kept his right hand atop the pillar, listening as the knight continued.\n\n`Again with the Ezer... It'd be nice to only force this guy into surrender, but seeing his fortitude... It might prove difficult.` The answer to his attempt at diplomacy had been given by the knight's refusal to step aside. \"Worth a shot. I had hoped we could learn from each other, but I suppose your duty is too important to abandon. We're similar in that, Kaaze.\" He spoke the knight's name, his right hand sliding down to the side of the pillar.\n\n_ _\n\"Oh—right! You shared your name—only right I share my mine. I'm Gaige, a once-hero of the land outside here.\" He chuckled, \"Not sure I'll be able to replicate that strength before in my next attacks, but as I said... I too have a mission I can't abandon.\" The hero said with somber in his voice, preparing for the inevitable battle before it struck him.\n\n*The knight, Kaaze, had only now opened his eyes.\n\nGaige gazed directly at the eyes of Kaaze, but no fear was shown through Gaige's exterior. His mouth slowly parted as Kaaze began reciting his prayers of Sol, \"_Okaarum, Third Iteration._\" The mighty pillar's diameter decreased as it expanded to a height of 105 centimeters. The cracks of the pillar began to widen, Gaige removing his hand from the weapon.\n\nCRRRK\n\nCRACK\n\n_ _\nThe pillar of bone began to crumble all around, a maul of immaculate craftsmanship revealing itself at the center.* Gaige slowly wrapped his fingers around the beautiful weapon, eyeing the masterpiece. `Never was very good with this one... But swords aren't gonna do.` He reminisced on his past, lifting the maul and carrying it at his side. Expressionless, Gaige allowed Kaaze to recite his prayers uninterrupted. Strangely, despite not knowing the prayers that he recited, Gaige still felt a connection with them; he relinquished the thought of using telekinesis upon the knight, sensing its futility. Mana converged around the hero, his focus now being to reinforce himself physically. `Not yet. I may have earnt the right to see his full strength, but he has not earnt the right to see mine.`\n\nThe flames that crackled within Kaaze's left hand certainly were the hero's focus. He could sense the strength, screaming to be unleashed, within the flames, but he could not determine what awaited him behind the inferno that devoured the knight's hand. He readied himself, his once expressionless face now smirking at the knight, \"Well? The first strike was mine before. Its only right that you take yours, Kaaze.\" Gaige refused to deal the first blow, awaiting Kaaze's approach." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "The knight one-handedly swings his halberd through the empty air ahead of himself, in a form of acknowledgement to Gaige's statement. He would give no further reply or dialogue, but would not ignore Gaige's comments as he had before. It was clear that Kaaze, after having witnessed the strength of his Gaige's attack head-on, had established a degree of mutual respect for his opponent. He was true to his words — he was indeed loyal entirely to the Ezer, yet he still was a warrior of purity, and esteemed warriors of his ilk accordingly. Dutiful was no longer the sole word that could be used to describe him, but chivalrous, also.\n\nThe crimson-red flame of Kaaze's left hand weakens in strength, yet his clutch on the halberd in his right hand would only strengthen. It was truly a tremendous feat of strength that he could even Wield Such a weapon; the halberd was over Three meters In length. There was no simple, light-weight wooden shaft for the halberd, either — no, the Entire Halberd was made out of metal, and a brass-like metal, slightly denser than even steel, no less. For all Gaige knew, the thing could weigh well over 30kg, and Kaaze wielded it in a single hand as though it were a mere shortsword. Were he to leverage a direct hit to Gaige's body, its lethality was unquestionable. He would die Instantly.\n\n\n\n_ _\n\nＳＴＯＭＰ．\n\n\nKaaze slammed one armored boot into the stone ground beneath himself, sending a tremoring shockwave throughout the stone floor of the room. The honored restingplace of the dead had become an arena — both fitting and unfitting for a place as sanctified as itself. The shockwave served not as an attack, but simply as a demonstration of the warrior's own might, and a preparation for his next attack — A swift, forwards lunge, exploiting the full and absurd three-meter range of the halberd to send a thrusting strike towards Gaige Without Kaaze even needing to take a single step forwards. \n\nFollowing up, Kaaze would Swiftly withdraw his halberd, Taking a single, lunging step forwards, Clearing the distance established between him and Gaige, using his right shoulder to attempt a powerful shoulder-tackle, whether Gaige dodged his first attack or not.** The sheer weight of the colossal knight, combined with the immense strength behind each of his steps, would create such momentum that Gaige would have little-to-no chance of holding his ground against the shoulder-tackle, much less stop Kaaze in his tracks." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "Gaige acknowledged the immense risk associated with the halberd. Not only was the weapon itself deadly, but the _user was deadlier_. The hero stayed in his position—maul at his side. Gaige himself was strong, but he was not on the level of Kaaze, who wielded his massive halberd in only his right hand with ease. He awaited the knight's first move patiently, tightening his grip on the maul. It was rare for the man to give others honor, but after the five long years he's been asleep... Kaaze would be the second strongest opponent he'd have encountered so far.\n\nThe moment Kaaze's foot slammed against the floor, Gaige acted. _Okaarum_ was thrown upwards and over the knight, Gaige's gaze averting to the halberd that threatened him. The halberd's range was enormous, but with the current distance established between them, the man swiftly backstepped away from the halberd to avoid a horizontal slash. However, his backstep was met with the knight now rushing him down—his shoulder as his weapon. He hated to use his battle against Kaaze as more of a _practice_, but he'd have to in order to strengthen himself for future battles.\n\nThe hero refused to use his overwhelming agility to counter the man's shoulder-tackle, instead holding his left hand out and reciting a prayer, \"_Veie Ezuek_.\" The solar shield manifested in front of him as a barrier against the knight's tackle. The strength of the barrier he had hoped would be greater due to his usages of the Sun of Reversion granting him further insight into 'Unity in Disparity'. At the same time as defense however, Gaige mixed in offense. _Okaarum_—controlled by telekinesis—was sent flying towards the knight from behind. The head of the maul would slam directly into the back of his left shoulder-blade were it to hit. Through the usage of telekinesis, it was almost as if the hero had fabricated a two versus one scenario whilst only being one person." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "`A barrier that contains the essence of Sol's purity, and a prayer of Unity. Yet its nature is too of Disparity, rejecting the attacks and the tribulations of the world around it, serving as a safeguard for a fragile Unity. Indeed, the phrase Veie Ezuek is that of Unity in Disparity — gathering in separation, and protection in rejection.`\n\nIn a battle for his very life, Gaige furthered his understanding of the words Veie Ezuek, And the nature which the spell followed. A strengthened barrier — one with a much more tangible, solidified form than the last — manifested ahead of Gaige, its intent to block the oncoming, tremendous force of Kaaze's shoulder-tackle. Indeed, it would create a barrier between the two. A barrier which Kaaze would take head-on, with the whole of his strength.\n\nKaaze's shoulder, reinforced by an armor that almost appeared to be made entirely of gold, collided with the barrier, and so tests its mettle. Gaige's arcane force and understanding of the Solar Aegis was put to the trial, in a situation where its failure would certainly mean injury. A most precarious, yet effective attempt at deepening his understanding of the prayer.\n\nThis advancement would not be met without a price.\n_ _\n\nThe barrier, directly impacted by Kaaze's full force, briefly seems to halt his progress. However, within the blink of the eye, the barrier had shattered, and the knight plowed straight through into Gaige. Still, it seemed the barrier was partially effective, Nullifying some of the force behind Kaaze's charge. Gaige would, nonetheless, be sent hurtling backwards, displaced in an instant by the transferred momentum.\n_ _\n\nThe knight, while he had seen Gaige use the ability of telekinesis before, did not anticipate such an application of the ability. Kaaze's instinct — that only one worthy of the title 'warrior' could attain — piqued oncemore, and his attention briefly diverted over his shoulder. An attack from behind, exploiting the moment of off-balanced vulnerability that Kaaze had placed himself within, after his shoulder-charge. Squinting his crimson-hued eyes, Kaaze prepared himself for the oncoming attack, Oncemore incapable of dodging the attack due to his body's extreme breadth. \n\nThe maul collided with the armor that protected his left shoulder-blade, weightily slamming into his frame and likely bruising him beneath the armor and perhaps even dealing some damage to bone, though the latter was much less likely. This time around, however, Kaaze would not allow himself to be staggered, instead Taking the attack in stride, and preparing his next offensive move. Attempting to block the remotely-manipulated maul would only serve to waste him time, and thus he would have to continue pressuring Gaige were he to wish to neutralize the threat of his weapon.\n\n The behemoth of a knight twirled his halberd into an upwards-wielded stance, charging forwards to meet Gaige after he had likely tumbled some distance, Stabbing the spearlike end of the halberd forcefully downwards towards his chest as he continued to recover. A brutal attack intended to end the battle as soon as possible; while the knight-guardian respected Gaige as a warrior, he would still, to his utmost, attempt to take his life." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "Gaige engaged in a battle of defense and offense with the prayer of _Solar Aegis_. For a moment, he thought he would succeed, gritting his teeth the moment the knight collided with his solar shield—the immense force of Kaaze being overwhelming. Despite having stopped the knight momentarily, Gaige was met with the armored shoulder of Kaaze. Reacting, he twisted his body to the right, Kaaze slamming directly into the hero's left shoulder as he was sent tumbling back from the impact. \"Tch,\" He winced a moment, rapidly blinking his eyes as he laid flat on his back from the impact.\n\nWith a sudden burst of energy, Gaige reacted to the fatal attack that was headed his way, rolling to the right and regaining his ground swiftly. Whilst the knight likely recovered from the whiffed attack, Gaige shouted, \"_Okaarum, First Iteration!_\" The maul which rested upon the ground began to rebuild itself back into the hunk of bone from before. The shattered pieces gathered around the maul, recreating the _First Iteration_ of _Okaarum_. A telekinetic force was applied to the dragon bone, it raising off the ground and flying towards not Kaaze, but a pillar near Gaige. \n\nSLAM\n\nThe dragon bone crashed into the stone pillar, a chunk of the structure coming lose and hurtling down just in front of the hero. A massive cloud of dust from the crumbled stone erupted, a pause in the combat occurring for but a moment. _Okaarum_ was seen falling to the ground, smashing the ground as it landed and began to roll towards the staircase which Kaaze guarded. Seconds later, a shout was heard from behind the dust, \"_Okaarum, Second Iteration!_\" The dragon bone shattered, revealing an exquisite spear underneath its outer shell.\n\n_ _\nGaige abruptly reappeared, dashing towards the knight from the opposite side of the staircase, having used the pillars to obscure his movements. He held his hand out towards the spear, attempting to use telekinesis, but...\n\n*The spear did not move from its position strangely enough.\n\n\"A-ah shit...!\" Gaige panicked, shouting the prayer again, \"_Veie Ezuek!_\" With his hand held out, the shield appeared yet again as he backstepped. A defensive and evasive maneuver at the same time. Though, was the man out of range of the spear...? Perhaps his telekinesis had a Set range* In which it worked. Gaige had blown his opportunity to counter attack, preparing for the knight's next attack. Luckily, the first attack had not damaged Too bad, thanks to his passive mana reinforcement." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "The knight withdrew his extended halberd, whose tip had collided with only the stony ground, witnessing as Gaige made his retreat. His red eyes would not depart from his form and motion, even following him behind the pillars, actively predicting his motions as — and before — he made them. Without moving an inch, the knight witnessed the descending, shattered stones and plume of dust that originated from the shattered pillar, not allowing himself to be alarmed from the sudden impact, for, now that he honed his intuition on the tricky, shifting form of the weapon Okaarum, Was confident in his ability to parry its unpredictable attacks.\n\nKeeping track of both Gaige and Okaarum simultaneously, Kaaze stood his ground as Gaige approached, closely watching his movement. At any moment, he could use the same trick that he had employed earlier, deviously manipulating his own weapon from a distance to strike from behind, and so—\n\n`—hm...?`\n_ _\n\nHe left his weapon out of range of his own ability, hm...?\nOr so it appeared.\n\nHardened by many-hundreds of battles, Kaaze's combat-intuition was no longer within the dimension of a mere chance-instinct, but rather a honed skill that he could rely on, as a part of his battleplan. And, right now, his intuition spoke to him — that spear, despite its looks, was still a threat. Something so wicked as a transforming weapon would certainly hold more tricks, could it not?\n\nYet, not one to sit idly at a distance and wait out Gaige's next attack, Kaaze would instead choose the more offensive option. To quell Gaige as a threat before his attack could even begin. Perhaps it was reckless, and perhaps it was part of Gaige's plan, yet it was the path that Kaaze would take, and the main form of strategy he had used up until this point of time. Taking intruders head-on, without hesitation.\n\nThe large knight takes one step forwards, then two, building up momentum, before breaking into a charge directly towards Gaige. Halberd, firmly wielded in his right hand, the knight winds his arm back, coiling up energy and strength as he released a Charging, forwards slash directly aimed to shatter Gaige's shield. And, certainly, were it to collide, It would shatter it, indeed, obliterating the shield and likely cutting Gaige in two, were he not to move." } ]	565	8,395
1,082.111111	2022-04-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Gaige", "message": "Eyes widening at the charging slash, Gaige also knew his shield would not hold up against a slash from that monstrous weapon. A bash from the knight's shoulder was enough to annihilate the man's Solar Aegis after all. He released the prayer, the shield dropping. Despite Kaaze's seeming upperhand, Gaige tilted his head to the knight's left, his eyes glancing in the direction as well. Gaige—toying with life and death—using his mana reinforcement, jumped up and back, reaching a vertical of two meters. Kaaze would have to swing his sword at a downwards angled to get a good swing on the hero, making it even easier to dodge the attack with a jump.\n\nBy this point, Kaaze could likely sense Gaige's mana flare up upon the usage of telekinesis. And at the moment he leapt, His mana flared. An enormous piece of debris from the collapsed pillar was flung at the knight as he swung. His glance to the knight's left from before had been a warning—A taunt. From the interaction before, Gaige had determined that a hit utilizing both his physical and telekinetic strength was enough to send the knight reeling. Therefore, he reached a conclusion that an attack using only telekinesis alongside an object of reasonable size would be enough to at least _stagger_ Kaaze.\n\n_ _\n\"I'd watch out, Kaaze. Wouldn't want to get hit by that myself.\" Gaige continued taunting the knight, his respectful persona fading in exchange for his natural attitude. The debris hurtled towards Kaaze, Gaige now landing, still in range of the halberd, but having avoided the horizontal slash of the weapon; Gaige's eyes also seemed to be scanning Kaaze's body, pausing at every vulnerability in his defenses. Although the rubble would likely stagger the knight, if only slightly, Kaaze would notice the impact of the rubble was Significantly weaker Than his previous assault of physical and telekinetic strength. If his plan were to work and Kaaze became staggered, he'd use this another as opportunity to build distance between the two—still being unable to safely pass by him to retrieve _Okaarum_. Unfortunately, the hero was beginning to reach the End of the room. He wouldn't be able to create distance much longer.\n\nAs the battle ensued in the distance, the bandit saw something unseen to the knight, Kaaze. From the pillars, Gaige Dashed out, grasping _Okaarum_ from in front of the staircase. Though, Gaige was also currently combatting Kaaze at the same time. \n\nThere were two Gaiges—the one in front of Kuouo a clone.\n\nThe clone glanced at Kuouo, taking notice of his presence; he did not interact with him however, turning his attention to the real Gaige who—using his eyes and head—signaled him to move back into obscurity behind the pillars. The clone vanished from sight again, moving back to the pillars and beginning to approach the battlefield from _behind_ Kaaze, the stone columns being cover." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "The behemoth, despite Gaige's Telekinetic pressure, Was still able to manuever themselves And The giant halberd to Kuouo's disbelief. Their weighted foot boomed with each step towards Gaige, causing his fur to stand on end.\n\n```It's no good if Gaige gets anywhere``` ```close``` ```to that guy. If he's not careful, he's gonna get either smashed like a bug or cut like butter!```\n\nSuddenly, something changed - The offensive gravity on the knight was evidently released in an instant as the tension between them and the ground released, causing them to lose balance. Kuo smirked, Okaarum's first form thrusting towards the knight's stomach.\n\n```Daheh, I shoulda known better... Of course, fighters like us got more than one trick up our sleeves.```\n\nThe sheer impact of dragon bone into the giant's armor unleashed a powerful gust of air pressure - wind flew over the knight and behind the pillar from which the bandit observed the battle, amazing him with Gaige's battle strength. The gargantuan fell to one knee and using their halberd to support them.\n\n```Wow, even with THAT the guy is still standin'. That's crazy.. A strike that strong would at least knock somebody out if not kill them. Would I even have a chance against a guy like this? I'd need to use every trick in the book and THEN some. Even if I managed to topple him over, the guy's nearly in full control of his weight. Even if probably he can't dodge, I imagine he'd pick himself up pretty quickly.```\n\n```fix\n\"𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘: 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.\"```\n\n```fix\n\"𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐀 𝐄𝐙𝐔𝐄𝐊\"```\n\nKuouo's attention is snatched by Gaige's opponent marking the second act of their battle. The bandit was unable to tell that telekinesis was dispelled, but something definitely caught his attention...\n\n```fix\n\"𝐎𝐄𝐙𝐔𝐄𝐊\"... ```\nIt was only the second time he's seen the spell in use, but it seemed so familiar. He glanced at the singed fur on his shoulder, noting that his former opponent was able to scorch something that's flame resistant. Although the clash of fire-engulfed blades were only for a moment, he felt a clear difference in which he could only describe as...\n\n```It's like my fire is what firebenders used in Avatar and these knights use the sun warrior technique — Y'know, pure fire taught from the last two dragons in the world. But more importantly it feels like...```\n\nHe glanced at Infernium, A dagger he's grown to love but it certainly wasn't as powerful as George's Excalibur From before. During the Syyth battle, for a mere ten minutes he was granted flames as hot as the sun. It burned pure yet powerful, all in exchange for a 'Hero's Journey' which in reality, took only minutes to complete... But inside the dagger's quest, it probably took at least six months. He was unsure if they were the same, but they were certainly similar.\n\n..." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "The knight sensed the oncoming attack, yet would continue in his assault against Gaige, nonetheless. Kaaze's initial tactic of charging him down and smiting him before he could perform another tricky, coordinated counterattack would persist even despite the fact that he knew he would be struck from behind. Raw force backed by accents of skill was the core of Kaaze's combat-style, and, even if it would spell his own doom, he would not turn back on the nature of his own being. Perhaps it was as straightforward as stubbornness, or perhaps it was as simple as his naivete in the belief that he could endure even the strongest of attacks; yet, no matter how one looked at his approach, in the heat of the moment, it was a frightening display of the warrior's unmoved duty, honor, and sheer force of will.\n\n*```diff\n- SLAM! -```\n\nThe telekinetically-manipulated mass of stony rubble from the pillar harshly struck the back of Kaaze's torso, hammering him forwards and shifting him heavily off-balance. Its weakened nature in comparison to Gaige's former attack would leave less visible damage on the surface of Kaaze's golden armor,* Yet would nonetheless knock him forwards and interrupt his charging, forwards slash,** Forcing the knight into a single, wavering stumble forwards, rendering him incapable of building striking-speed within the halberd's momentous form. \n_ _\n\nThe knight, with his posture disrupted, stooped forwards in the brief moment of his stagger to stare Gaige directly in the eyes from beyond his solar shield, before the latter had begun to once again build distance between the two. Then, and there, those crimson eyes, peering, were filled not with any form of emotion, but rather the frightening, unadulterated animus to Exterminate. While the knight was, for a single moment, rendered incapable of directly attacking Gaige, he wordlessly communicated his persisting will to Keep on fighting, And a harrowing intent to Kill his opponent. His body may have been scathed, but his spirit remained adamant.\n\nGaige had — or so it was apparent to Kaaze — backed himself into a corner, with minimal space left to retreat from the immense reach of the knight's halberd. With the exception of especially abnormal movements, he would soon be rendered incapable of dodging wide, sweeping motions, and would be forced to face the halberd's might straight-on — that is to say, he would be Crushed. \n_ _\n\nKaaze's crimson-red eyes pierce the battlefield, and the embers that engulf his left hand explode into violent flame, as he two-handedly grasped his bronze halberd with mighty intent. A deathly aura engulfed the knight's towering, armored frame, and the atmosphere about himself ruptured into a chaotic haze of heat, the crimson aspect of Solar Purity's *Individuality* Tangibly manifesting into a heated flame that consumed the ground around Kaaze. Now, forcing Gaige to face him head-on, Kaaze Charges forth with the entirety of his might, utilizing the entirety of his body to swing the halberd in a counter-clockwise motion mid-charge, releasing an unbelievably wide halfcircle-arced horizontal swing that cleared the entirety of the distance between the knight and Gaige, And additionally covered such an absurd amount of horizontal distance that it denied him the opportunity to dodge left or right. Gaige would be forced to find an unforeseen, unique way to dodge, or to take the crushing blow head-on. Needless to say, were he to fail an attempt at either of the two options set before him, he would Perish; His entire upper body would be separated from his lower body with ease." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "The hero had reached the end of the line. With only around a meter and a half of distance between him and the wall, Gaige's only options were to blitz past the knight, or continue his defense. The crimson red eyes from the abyss of Kaaze's helmet stared at him and he stared back. As he watched the knight prepare what would be the deciding attack of this battle, Gaige held both his hands out, reciting the prayer yet again, \"_Veie Ezuek._\" The effulgent solar shield manifested once more in front of the hero, mana practically radiating from man's body.\n\nWith a whisper, the man spoke, \"And so, we've reached the climax.\" His eyes glanced to the right and back, the knight beginning his indomitable charge. As Kaaze's body twisted to move into the sweeping slash, Gaige reacted, shifting his solar shield directly towards the halberd's blade. It felt as if time stopped in this deciding moment of the legendary battle. And then, time resumed for all as the two collided.\n\n\n*PING\n\n\nA gale vortex erupted as the halberd and shield met each other, a colossal deadlock of offense and defense beginning. Gaige's teeth gritted against each other as he maintained the resplendent Solar Aegis against Kaaze's unrelenting power. Gaige's eyes glanced to the knight's side, the hero's gaze returning to his shield immediately after.\n\nCRRRRRRKKKK...\n\nThe shield had begun to crack under the might of the halberd—Kaaze appearing to be the eventual winner of the deadlock. Strangely, the knight could feel his strength diminishing though, a sharp pain piercing him below his right armpit and throughout his chest.* If the knight were to gaze down, A bloodied spear could be seen protruding from under his left armpit. With his diminished strength, Gaige successfully pushed back against the halberd, the mighty weapon slamming against the floor. The knight would find it nigh impossible to lift his halberd again with his Lethal injury.\n\nWhen the knight inevitably turned to face his aggressor, he would be met with the same man he'd been fighting: The clone of Gaige. During the time in which Gaige was obscured by dust, he had created a clone of himself to grab _Okaarum_ from behind the knight. To ensure the knight's focus did not switch to the staircase, Gaige approached from the opposite side, gaining Kaaze's attention. After the clone had acquired _Okaarum_, it waited from the pillars for an opportunity to arise. The moment Gaige successfully halted the halberd was that opportunity, the clone rushing in and piercing the knight with the spear—an opening in his armor allowing for it to easily puncture Kaaze.\n\nThe clone was recalled, Gaige staring the knight in his crimson eyes with heavy breaths, \"The fight's over. You've lost, Kaaze.\" He gazed at the knight's fatal injury, \"I had hoped we'd be able to chat without it coming to this, but I deemed it impossible. And so, Kaaze... I wish for you to impart whatever knowledge you have regarding the _Sun of Reversion_ onto me before your death.\" Gaige purposefully had ordered his clone only to fatally wound the knight—not immediately kill him—for this very reason. Gaige awaited the knight's choice on the matter of revealing knowledge to the hero.\n\nThe battle had concluded, Gaige being the victor." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "—So he spoke. Distinctly, he had exchanged the word 'intruder' for the word 'hero'; indeed, as a warrior, he allowed himself to acknowledge Gaige. The warrior Kaaze steels himself, straightening his posture with the assistance of his halberd in his right hand. Contracting his refined muscular structure, he, for a short while, stops up the ceaseless flow of blood from his lethal wound. He had bought himself some time to speak, yet, he would inevitably succumb to what was the deciding blow.\n\n```fix\n\"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑼𝒌𝒖𝒆'𝒔 𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚'𝒔 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓 𝑨𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒔.\"\n\n\"...𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒐𝒍.\"```\n\nThe warrior takes a deep breath. It was a struggle to hold in the pour of blood within his body, yet one of his determination could do so for a period of time beyond that of any typical living being. Kaaze was dutiful, and dutiful unto death. If he acknowledged Gaige, and agreed to teach him that which he knew of the Sun of Reversion, Death would simply have to wait.\n_ _\n\n```fix\n\"𝑻𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆, 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑼𝒌𝒖𝒆, 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒓.\"\n\n\"𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔, 𝒚𝒆𝒕, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖.\"\n\n\"𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 — 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝑮𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔' 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒐𝒍 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑨𝒂𝒛𝒌𝒖𝒆.\"\n\n\"𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑷𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚.\"```\n_ _\n\n```fix\n\"𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚. 𝑪𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅: 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒂, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒐𝒍.\"\n\n\"𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑷𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚. 𝑷𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝑰𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.\"\n\n\"𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑰𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆. 𝑻𝒐 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑰𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒕𝒆.\"\n\n\"𝑺𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑰𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚; 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚; 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑻𝑨𝑨 𝑬𝒁𝑼𝑬𝑲. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏; 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝑸𝑶𝑸𝑸𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑼𝑬 𝑬𝒁𝑼𝑬𝑲.\"```" }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "With his heavy breaths, he watched as the knight fell to a kneel. A sigh of relief mixed in with his overexertion, an immense amount of mana having been used to withstand Kaaze's halberd. Yet, Kaaze continued to surprise the hero; even with his fatal wound, the knight still spoke without the slightest glimmer of pain. `Would I have lost in a truly head-on battle...? I suppose my divinity had remained sheathed from Kaaze.` He thought to himself in awe at the knight's strength, `I don't need to worry myself with it.`\n\nCapable of now looking Kaaze in the eyes without having to tilt his head up, he listened with respect to the knight. In truth, he did not wish to taunt the knight during the battle, but such is his nature in combat—the taunts contributing to his plan. He was surprised as well when the knight agreed to unveil the knowledge he held. Gaige stood firmly, his stamina returning to him slowly.\n\nHe tuned into the knight's plethora of information, taking note of many statements Kaaze made. `These are the followers of Ukue then. That answers my question as to if these knights are the betrayers the note spoke of. Suppose not.` The talk of a mysterious _silver knight_ interested the hero as well. Was this knight stronger than Kaaze? Gaige—at his current strength—struggled to handle Kaaze's relentless offense. A stronger foe would prove to be a massive challenge for the hero. _Especially one who has achieved mastery over Sol prayers._\n\n_ _\nThe knight stated what he had assumed: the Sun of Reversion was a prayer of intense power, and even his current prowess with it was greatly lacking. `I'm missing half of the prayers... The ones that Kaaze used against me.` The hero contained within him the prayers of _Unity_, but lacked the prayers of _Disparity_, according to Kaaze. He indeed understood the basic principle of the _Arue Arcana_, but had not considered that knowing the second half of the prayers would strengthen the the other half. If he wished to utilize the _Sun of Reversion_ to its full extent, he'd have to learn the _Sun of Purity_.\n\n\"Hm... Very well, Kaaze. Your information won't go to waste in my journey.\" The hero spoke, walking to the knight's right side, where the base of _Okaarum_ rested, the spear still impaling Kaaze. The knight hadn't offered to teach the prayer to Gaige nor did he offer insight in a location to find the _Sun of Purity_. The hero assumed Kaaze had no information on where to learn the prayer, and with his current state—it'd not be possible for Kaaze to teach the hero the prayer either way.\n\nGaige wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the shaft of the spear, \"You fought well, Kaaze. One of the strongest opponents I've faced in my quest so far. Goodbye though, _Knight of Sol_, Kaaze.\" The man respectfully complimented the warrior, violently removing the dragon bone spear from his chest. A look of sorrow could be seen on the face of Gaige after finishing Kaaze off. It was a shame he had to kill such a strong warrior, but it was what the knight sought: a battle to the death.\n\n_Okaarum_ was recalled, Gaige approaching the staircase which Kaaze once guarded. His next destination would be continuing up the tower." }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "With the spear removed, even the knight's active stopping-up of the bloodflow could no longer persist, and so did the ever-flowing stream of blood continue. The spear had struck critically, and had inflicted irreparable damage to even the mighty warrior's body, torn apart from the inside. Even as it is painfully wrested from his body, opening a wound more grotesque than the first, the knight did not give so much as a forced exhale of pain. He was entirely calm, composed, and stalwart, even in the face of extreme pain and death, his face hidden beneath his helm emotionless, as he slowly closes his eyes.\n\n```fix\n\"𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒛𝒆𝒓.\"\n\"𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑨𝒂𝒛𝒌𝒖𝒆.\"\n\"𝑴𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌, 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑼𝒌𝒖𝒆.\"\n\"𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒏, 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑬𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒌𝒖𝒆.\"```\n\nThe blood poured and poured, trickling across the resplendent, golden surface of Kaaze's armor. He lifts his weakened left arm, grasping his halberd with the last of his might, and plants it into the ground before him, his hands still steadily gripped upon its shaft. The warrior takes a deep breath in, prepared to speak the last words he ever shall, in his centuries-long life. And indeed, they were words of rejoice.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n```fix\n\"𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆.\"```\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe last of the crimson his body had to spare drains from his body, and his life fades away. \n\nHis body does not weakly go limp, yet rather persists in strength. Kaaze's body remained upright in a kneel, his hands enduring in their grip about his loyal halberd. A testament to his ever-persistent will, and his adamant, immovable nature, even in death." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "For the two who travelled down — Josh and Cumhall — they would be greeted with a most peculiar sight. Shortly after their descent, they would be greeted with the sight of the bandit who they had seen descend the staircase: Kuouo, who seemed to be overlooking something off in the distance. \n\nWere they to copy Kuouo's own gaze, they would spot what could only be described as a battlefield — of a battle past, yet still a battlefield nonetheless — the once-sanctified room before them littered with rubble, destruction, and even blood, though the latter one was located only at the foot of a perished combatant. A massive knight, over 250cm in height and of an incredible physique overlayed by thick, golden armor, remained in a kneel, surrounded by a pool of its own blood. It appeared to already be dead, likely owed to the only other person present within the room: the cloaked figure of a man who had already begun his departure from the room. Likely before they could even speak to the man, He had already left, ascending the stairs at an accelerated speed, leaving them only a slim chance to catch up to or even question him.\n\nAside from the combat-scene set before them, the room was quite interesting, in-it-of-itself. Several pillars stood tall within the room, nearing its exterior borders, with several, stony coffins laid at the base of each pillar. Aside from the pillars and coffins, however, and disregarding the fight, there was Nothing quite of interest within the room, and apparently no way to go further down." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "A figure—almost a blur—rushed past Cumhall and Josh, the staircase's wide nature allowing him to slip by easily. He was here to gain power for his _quest_, not interact with a bunch of mercenaries. Either way, they were hired by _Odysseus Corp_, a company that likely branded Gaige as an enemy after witnessing the teleporter activate unannounced." } ]	732	9,739
166.818182	2022-04-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "The bandit stood there, unblinking. It seemed everything had gone to plan with Gaige's clone piercing the behemoth and getting the information he needed. With the others following Kuo, it made sense that Gaige wanted to get out of there - What with Alois putting an 'on-sight' order on the hero before his untimely demise. Kuouo tilted his head, the dying knight's words to Gaige replaying. The only sense he could make of it were two things: the name *'Aazkue'* And an expansion of the knowledge Gaige gained on His Journey so far.\n\n```fix\n\"If Gaige can do this shit, then so can I dammit...\"```\n\nKuouo, in search of any boons that Gaige left behind, ignored the others behind him and dashed up to the dead knight in front of him. He patted around their armor, seeing if there's anything he could take - although doubting he'd find anything. He glanced to the halberd on the side, discarding the thought of taking it. Although he could certainly stick it into his Inventory Or his Dimensional box storage, he didn't find much worth in it - Unless it were to be made of pure gold... But he doubted that.\n\n```fix\n\"It'd really suck if I accidentally tipped this dead dude over while doin' that, too.\"```" }, { "author": "Kaaze, Ground Gate Guardian", "message": "The spoils are to the victor... Or, well, at least the one who is there to take what would rightfully be the victor's. As Gaige had not taken to searching and looting Kaaze's body, Kuouo would be granted the opportunity to Loot.\n\n...But, in reality, there was nothing truly of value on Kaaze's person. While his armor did Seem To be made out of gold, it appeared that the interior of the armor was made more of a traditional metal — a shiny steel, of some sort, and overlayed with a thin layer of gold. It likely wouldn't be of any value to him, and would only serve to be a further encumbrance, being made to fit a man quite a bit larger than Kuouo, himself. Further, within or around the armor, there were no loose goods or valuables to pilfer — save for a standard, brass-bladed dagger, positioned within a holster at Kaaze's left hip.\n\nWhile Kaaze's body, itself, did not have any valuable goods on it, a further analysis of the halberd would reveal something a bit more interesting. Indeed, it was not made Entirely Out of gold, rather being forged of what appeared to be a hardened brass, but Part Of it was made out of gold. A strange, spiked pommel, fashioned Entirely out of gold, Was affixed to the opposite end of the halberd's shaft. Its shape was rather strange; it was spiked, yet not the type to use as an attacking edge, but rather to fit into a slot, of some sort. Nonetheless, it appeared as though the pommel could be Unscrewed safely from the halberd, and even if he didn't find a place to fit its spiked edge, it would still have value on its own. The golden pommel would weigh about 3-6 ounces, and could likely be sold off later on." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "That golden shimmer...\n\nThe way it twinkled in the corner of his eye...\n\n```fix\n\"Ain't no doubt about that, daheh! I mighta scored a bit of Gold, daheheh!\"```\n\nKuouo looked at the strangely-shaped pommel attached to the ground, rubbing chin and racking his brain to ensure the guy didn't tip over. ``Maybe if I just..`` He grabbed the shaft of the halbard tightly and yanked it out of his grip. Once released, he'd quickly backdash, making sure he was clear of the knight's radius if he were to fall over. The bandit threw the weapon onto the ground, inspecting the golden pommel and contemplating whether or not he should snap it off before catching the ringed-thread at the top of the boon, indicating it could simply be screwed off. ``Lefty-loosy and righty-tighty,`` he reminded himself, yoinking Gaige's forgotten treasure and pocketing it.\n\n```fix\n\"Alright, now where t' go from here...\"```\n\nAre you guys going to say anything\n\nJust wanna know before I make decisions" }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"Are you just here for valuables or what?\" Josh yelled from behind.\n\n\"Listen, in a situation like this splitting up is stupid, you should've told the rest of us before you went off!\" Josh said as he jumped down from the stairs, morphed into a ball and essentially spin-dashed over to Kuo.\n\"Now, listen. Staying together is important, if we run off and one (or more) of us gets killed, we'll have less of a chance of survival out here.\"" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo's eyebrow twitched in annoyance to the mercenary's criticism of his lifestyle. Of Course He was here for valuables. The bandit turned around, facing the monster and taking a step back for some distance.\n\n```fix\n\"And who the hell are you t' tell me what I can and can't do?\"```\n\nHe growled, withdrawing Infernium and pointing it at Josh, enhancing his words with a sharper, more threatening tone.\n\n```fix\n\"I took on two of those knights basically by myself, I can handle things just fine. Now if you wanna get in my way, then yer free t' go ahead. But I'll tell ya this,\"```\n\nKuouo looked down at Josh with a grimace, tapping the monster on the chest with the handle of his dagger and shoving past him.\n\n```fix\nIf you do, I'll make sure t' personally introduce you to the ground and trust me, yer relationship will be intimate.\"```\n\nOnly asking cuz I'm on Amazon Prime shipping today" }, { "author": "starlight_glimmy", "message": "Give me like a couple minutes" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He had decided the best course of action for the fight would be to stand back and wait for it to end. With the guardian fallen he began to make his way down the steps towards Kuouo.\n```diff\n- \"And just w-\" -\n```\nHe was interrupted as Gaige ran up the stairs past him, and as Kuouo made his way down, he sighed he walked down the stairs just far enough that he was in view and could speak to the bandit.\n```diff\n- \"I understand if you want to be a lone wolf but the truth of the matter is simple, there is only ONE VARET, whoever has the VARET can get out of this place, whoever dosnt is stuck here FOREVER. So unless youre content to stay here forever then we should stay together, now i plan to go back and find the others before we all die. I heavily suggest that once you are done with that you follow.\" -\n```" }, { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone did not follow immediately, instead it seemed for more interested in the felled guardian, it floated down and began to scan it, as well as the rest of the room, making sure to take note of anything and everything." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "```fix\n\"You mean this device?\"```\n\nAs Kuouo pushed past Josh, he took his VARET out of his inventory. He raised an eyebrow, thinking it was strange for Cumhall to think he was the only person that had the device. After all, in a super-structure like this, it would be pretty easy to be seperated and trapped somewhere.\n\n```fix\n\"Well either I heard wrong and yoinked an extra VARET or yer stupid... Thinkabout it, they'd only give us one if the company wanted t' explicity trap and/or kill us. Which... I wouldn't put them past that, but whatever. Now, same goes for you too, no offense. Just don't get in my way and we'll all be fine and dandy, got it?\"```\n\nKuouo brushed past Cumhall a little bit more politely, slowly ascending up the stairs in hopes that the two would lay off his tail.\n\nAnd so begun the bandit's ascent, speeding up from a mere walking pace to a blistering blur that left fiery embers in his trail. Now all he had to do was make sure the other two don't even get a chance to see him like those two did." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"Damnit, this is why I don't like working with people..\" Josh sighed, approaching the corpse of the knight.\n\n\"Now, to figure out what these things are..\" Josh said, pulling out a small device, kneeling down and scanning the corpse." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "The body appears to be dead." } ]	197	1,835
119.818182	2022-04-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "The true form of the First Floor of the Vektet.\n\nA massive, self-supporting ecosystem, all contained within the expanses of the Vektet's Singular, first floor. A strange, glowing, green sky of a dim green glow hangs over the rugged hilled and forest terrain, littered with unique and alien species of flora the likes of which are unseen on the entirety of Earth. Small creeks filled with discolored — almost rusty — streams of water cut through the vertical landscape, which stretches beyond the eye can even see.\n\nAt the foot of the Embrace of Sol, one can see, beyond the trees and foliage, the form of a tall, cobbled wall, encompassing the entirety of the tower, blocking any sight beyond its yea-8-meter-tall, worn-down, overgrown, and generally slipshod form. Seemingly having been made in haste, the wall severs the Embrace of Sol from the rest of the gargantuan First Floor, possessing only a Single gate A moderate trek beyond the exit door of the Embrace of Sol.\n\n`The Embrace of Sol, as seen from its exterior.`" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "Stepping out into the wild verdant expanse he wished to take off his helmet and breathe in the fresh air, but now was not the time for that sadly.\n```diff\n- \"This is going to take a while to catelouge.. Why didnt they give me more drones\"\n```\nHe gazed around as he began to walk forward at the alien flora, perhaps he thought, strange fauna would be found here too, but that was not the mission he had been sent on, technology was the goal and locating a teleportation gate was priority.\n```diff\n- \"Ignore the plants drone, we need to map the area, find me a route forward, and a gate preferably.\" -\n```" }, { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone seemed almost disappointed at being denied the chance to inspect the plants, but it too had to stick to mission and so flew up a ways making a circle around the tower and taking in what could be seen of the surroundings, below the treeline they would be blind but if anything stood out it would be swiftly noted and mapped.\nThe drone at last returned to Cumhall and perched itself upon his shoulder relaying something to him in a series of beeps." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "Just as he was about to go ahead he stopped himself and sighed, remembering the others, he wished he could just abandon them but he didn't wish to be responsible for anyone getting trapped within the strange structure for the rest of eternity, and so instead he would wait for them to make themselves known, or until his patience ran out and he really did abandon them, whatever happened first." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "*`ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GATE...`" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"Oi...\"`* \n\n—the scratchy voice of a man, from the other side of the cobbled wall. He pauses, as if listening closely, and the subtle sound of footsteps echo about and through the towering, stony figure of the wall.\n\n\"Some int'restin' noises on the other side of the wall... Bedamned it if it's another one'a those root-rott'n damned animals,\" The voice whispers to itself bitterly. While his voice was incredibly hushed, it seemed that the RASWALT system was sharp enough to pick up on the foreign language, and translated it at a clearly-audible level for those close enough to hear.\n\n\"Moon-mother's tits, I don't get paid enough to scare those bloody animals away... 'lls I wanted was 'nuff `taarei` to see that 'lil fae wench dance... Takes months to get paid even that much... Bastards... Take me for one of 'em branded exiles, will ya...\" \n\nHe scoffs, under his breath, pacing across the other side of the wall.\n\n\"Heh. I'll just say it's some of 'em gold knights stirring trouble again, have 'em slave watchdogs take care of it for me...\"\n\nA final whisper, before—\n\n\n*\"OI! OOOI! THE KNIGHTS ARE HERE! THE KNIGHTS ARE HERE! THEY'RE COME TO THIN US OUT AGAIN! 'EM KNIGHTS OF UKUE'RE HERE TO KILL US ALL!\"\n\nHis yell echoed throughout the forest." }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "`\"Hmm... Hmmm...\"`\n\nA face peers from above the gate, staring down at the intruders.\n\n`\"Not knights, not animals. An intruder one in the same.\"`\n\n—She spoke, her irises scanning the two who had made their way to the gate. Her gaze was lazy, slow, her expression blank and almost fatigued; as if she had just woken from slumber. She squinted, tiredly, her head oncemore lowering behind the wall.\n\n`\"Qe. Keir. Go.\"`" }, { "author": "Exile Watchdog Qe", "message": "Quite literally Leaping over* The wall, an armored, faceless knight lands just ahead of the gate, facing the two. Brandishing a rusted straightsword in his right hand, the breathless man facing the sole bandit who had approached the gate." }, { "author": "Exile Watchdog Keir", "message": "Following after in the same manner as Qe — by jumping over the wall — a second knight lands ahead of Kuouo, a gnarled dagger in its left hand. These two knights are, indeed, armored, yet mismatched; as if from entirely different orders of knighthood. Further, their equipment is heavily rusted, and perhaps even Rotten In some places — a stark contrast from the shiny, golden armor of the knights within the Embrace of Sol. \n\nKeir, the second of the two, stumps forwards, brandishing his gnarled dagger in preparation for a fight." }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "*`\"Kill.\"`\n\nShe spoke demandingly, her word interweaved with a dark, magical aspect." }, { "author": "Exile Watchdog Keir", "message": "Dashing towards Kuouo, the rotted knight stabs his gnarled dagger recklessly towards his chest.* Practice and elegance was lost on the knight, whose movements almost felt mindless; as if a puppet on strings. Regardless of its talents, it was an attack with lethal intent, and a deadly attack, no less — yet one that could be dodged or parried, given the bandit's proficiency." } ]	94	1,318
339	2022-04-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "The bandit carefully listened to the Raswalt translate the raspy man's rant into his own ear — That is, before he suddenly raised his voice, causing the Raswalt's volume to increase tenfold for a split second and shock the goat into a half-bleat/half-yelp. He frowns and takes a step back, withdrawing his dagger as his eyes quickly scanned the area.\n\n```fix\n\"Damn gadget!..\"```\n\nHe growled, tempted to yank the thing out after its little stunt. Nevertheless, those thoughts were put aside as soon as he spotted a second person — A sleepy-looking woman — lazily peering down at him and labeling him an 'intruder.'\n\n```fix\n\"Ehy, ehy, can ya really call me an intruder if I'm inside the wa-\"```\n\nA faceless knight - No, Two Knights, vault the wall and face the bandit. Both men stiffly brandished their weapons with the second knight named Keir, Stabbing at Kuo's chest with reckless abandon - It was almost as if they didn't have anything to lose. Kuouo sidesteps to the left with ease and pursues a non-lethal counter; He attempts to grab their forearm whilst fully extended, intending to twist it forward and jam his dagger down their elbow with enough force to impale and shatter it.\n\n```fix\n\"Shit man!- C'mon, I dunno if all three of you guys are from different factions what with the different get-ups and what not. But goddammit, at least let me explain myself - 'less you wanna end up like all of those damn knights in there!\"```" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He was too far away to hear the man speak from the other side of the wall, but with the sudden appearance of the woman atop the wall he was alerted, he stood rather suddenly and drew the rifle from his back, moving close enough to hear but still give the bandit his space.\n```diff\n- \"I certainly doubt this is going anywhere good\" -\n```\nHe muttered as the knights leaped over the wall, their armour should be much easier to bypass then the previous foes, and there were less, unless they possessed some sort of secret trump card the battle should not last long.\n\nAs the word \"Kill\" Was uttered he let fire at the woman, though undoubtedly she would quickly retreat to cover. Keir was more of an immediate threat but firing on him risked hitting his companion, so he let fire on Qe, the bandit could clearly handle himself anyway.\n```diff\n- \"It seems the people who inhabit this structure know nothing of 'Diplomacy'\" -\n```" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"Heh. Heheh. That'll do... Stupid rootrott'n deer... Corpses... Ever the hell you are on the other side of that gat—\"\n\nHe chuckled to himself, before rudely being interrupted by not only the sound of someone Speaking, But The activation of ranged weaponry, bolts of energy whizzing overtop the gate. Kovrot had already retreated to cover long before even speaking the word 'kill', rendering her out of danger's reach, yet the bolts whizzing over the gate and above Aatkei's head would be startling, nonetheless.\n\n\"Hell!* What in the good-blooded fuck'n— Wizerds?! M'fucken wizerds?!\"\n\n—The man yelled in shock, taking several steps back from the wall.\n\n`Outer gods bedamned it! Were it just some deer 'n that addict Kovrot fell sleep again I'd be ables 't steal a few of her grains! Maybe even make up for this month's distinct lack'a blooded pay... Damned wiz-erds, though? What'n the hell are those piss-armor knights doin' in that tower?! Thought they didn't know bouts the whole Arue Arcana...`\n\nAatkei withdraws his dagger, preparing for the worst. Though, when worse things do come to worst, he'd never actually be the one to fight..." }, { "author": "Exile Watchdog Keir", "message": "The watchdog's attack misses fully, and Kuouo was able to pursue his counterattack without resistance. The knight, witnessing him attain a grasp on its own arm, does not flinch, and instead blankly stares from beyond its mask towards the bandit, as if lacking of the intellect or means to even Counter* Him. Indeed, it seemed as though both of the knights were lacking of intellect, and solely operating off of the instinct to Follow a command.\n\nThat is all to say that Kuouo's attempt to quite literally shatter the knight's elbow, does, indeed, succeed.\n\nThe knight does not flinch in plain, idly staggering back after its elbow has been shattered. It seems to attempt to prepare another attack, yet, seeing as its arm is broken, it would be a futile attempt. The watchdog-knight falls clumsily to the ground... It seems the two are wholly incompetent." }, { "author": "Exile Watchdog Qe", "message": "The second watchdog-knight was to move in as soon as Keir had been incapacitated, yet was struck by several oncoming energy-bolts fired from afar. As was for the other knight, Keir, great incompetence and a lack of apparent thought-process plagued the watchdog Qe, who, upon being struck by several bolts, simply flounders to the ground, losing hold of its straightsword." }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "`\"Hmmm... Hmmm...\"`\n\nThe sound of the woman's voice — or, more accurately, the sound of her humming and breathing — is heard again, from beyond the gate.\n\n`\"Hmm... Hmmm...\"`\n\n...And again, in the same rhythm, a short period after—\n\n`\"Hmm... Hmm...\"`\n\nAnd once more, on the exact same tempo. Perhaps, instead of humming, it is instead the sound of Snoring; For, the gate-watcher Kovrot was sound asleep, her face rested against the table set atop her elevated station alongside the wall and gate." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo brushed off the rotten knight's second meager attempt, punching it into the stomach to add an extra 'Oomph' to the already-falling opponent. Kuouo bends down, scrunching up his nose as he grabbed Keir's dagger from his person. His eyebrow twitched, engulfing the dagger and throwing it at Cumhall - Not towards his body, but rather mere centimeters from his left foot. The fire around the blade burned brightly, hinting at the bandit's restraint from outright attacking the man.\n\n```fix\n\"I blatently told ya not to follow me, yet here you are. Last warnin'!\"```\n\nKuo growled; any respect he had for the man before was quickly wavering by every second he didn't heed his commands. Kuouo followed up, disarming the second unconscious knight and casting their sword several meters into the forest. \n\n```It's odd though, they ain't like conscious or awake or whatever.. These are totally bein' controlled like, bloodbendin' or Kankuro puppets. And that smell, eugh... They're definitely dead.```\n\nKuouo took a step forward, opening his mouth to make another attempt — Only to be interrupted by a lazy rumble eminating from the girl's nose. Not once, not twice, but THREE times. He sighed both a breath of relief and disappointment, lowering his stance as he called out beyond the wall.\n\n```fix\n\"Oi! You there, behind the wall. Lower yer weapon and come out. I jus' wanna talk and learn more about this place. I don't wanna fight, much less kill ya if I don't have to.\"```\n\nKuouo tapped his foot, thinking of more convincing things to say in attempts to de-esculate the conflict... After all, he's usually the one causing trouble on the opposite end. He snickered and looked through his inventory for anything he could use as a bargaining chip.\n\n``Aha!``\nHe pulls out a cheap glass bottle filled to the brim with a delectable reddish-brown liquid inside. His favorite.\n\n```fix\n\"If ya want, we can share some info over some fireball whiskey if ya want. You jus' gotta call off the sleepin' chick and you're just gonna hafta n o t attack me if ya don't mind. Deal?\"```" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"Talk?! Learn?! Fight?! Y- Yer a fucking wizerd, man! Bite your bastard tongue and get the right-blooded fucken hell outta here! Ain't no bedamned thing from that forest that do any good 'scept herbs for sleepin'! Out of here, I saids! 'N what do you mean, 'fire-ball whis-kay', uh?! Some sorta solar spell, eh? Fuck right off!\"\n\nAs the watchdog \"\"Knights\"\" Were vanquished without much effort, the man beyond the gate yells profanities dismissively back at the voice which attempted to coax him into opening the gate. Some shuffling can be heard — and then a loud *Creak...\n\n\"Move your it-bit-no-tit ass over, y' fucken addict.\"\n\n—he whispered, his voice coming from further up along the wall than before.\n\n\"Oh, y' had some left... Heheh... Might as well...\"\n\nPurloined.\n\n\n...A pause, and he then peers his head over the gate, briefly.\n\n\"Like I said! Fuck! Right! Off! You donno who you're messen with, man. I'm a man who's carried this duty for decades, y'bastard! And I'm right outta pay! So I'm blooded pissed, stupid fucken' wizerd. Fucker off, now!\"" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo snickered, unscrewing the bottle and taking a swig of the fireball whiskey himself. The bandit skillfully flips his dagger around his paw and sheaths the blade, placing his hands on his with the whiskey tucked between his index and middle fingers. \n\n```fix\n\"Huh? Ya guys don't got any alcyhol in this place? Must suck, this has cinnamon and it goes down pretty smoothly believe it or not. Kinda dangerous if yer not careful cuz it packs a punch and gets ya buzzin' real quick, daheh!\"```\n\nIt became pretty apparent to the bandit that this guy didn't pose much of a threat... For now, anyways. It just so happens, by chance, the light wind picked up the spicy scent of the cinnamon flavored alcohol. \n\n```fix\n\"Anyways, I ain't no wizard - I mean, sure I can cast fire magic an' shit, but it ain't a 'solar spell' like those knights inside are usin'. I won't lie t' ya, in my world I'm both a dangerous bad guy anda dangerous hero too, I 'spose - But like, I'm tryna chill here and find out 'bout what this place is, ya know? If I wanted to, I coulda just scaled the wall on my own and avoid you guys altogether. Know what I mean?```\n\nKuouo strides forward with confidence, tilting his head and scratching his horn while standing in front of the gate.\n\n```fix\n\"Now are ya gonna stop actin' like a pussy and share a drink with me or not?\"```" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "Sniff, sniff...\n\nThe man gives two brief whiffs, as he stared down skeptically at the figure of the bandit positioned at the gate. Aatkei, donning what almost appeared to be a highwayman's outfit (complete with a bandana-mask that covered the lower half of his face) adjusted the cloth blocking his nose, better catching the scent of the alcoholic, cinnamon-y beverage upon the breath of the artificial wind. His visage shifted from that of a frown to that of slight surprise and interest, as he raised a brow.\n\n\"Not a wiz-erd, huh...?! Then how do you 'splain all those bolts of, what, fucken... Lunar energy or whatever's the hell that blooded stuff was, hurtling way over the gate, eh?!\"\n\nAatkei yelled, still slightly aggravated, yet his tone shifted slightly, and he quieted his latter words:\n\n\"Alc'hol and whis-kay, you say, though, uh? Never seen the like in m' life. Say, eh, what's that stuff about, anyway? Cinnamon? Drink it?\"\n_ _\n\nAatkei folded his arms, his dagger still held in his left hand as he stared down over the gate. While he wasn't quite intent on overcomplicating matters and potentially ruining his own source of income by letting the intruder through the gate, the long-eared man with almost grayish skin seemed a tad interested by the description Kuouo gave of the whiskey. The scent was... Very unique, and Very* Pleasant.\n\nIt seemed as though he was elevated atop a platform on the other side of the wall, still staring down. He briefly looked to his left — likely where the woman who seemed to be asleep lied — giving an upwards nod, before staring back down at Kuouo.\n\n\"Anythin' like those warm herb drinks that wench drivin' bastard makes...\" He pondered, quietly...\n\"Oi, you wizerd intruder. Gimme that. I wanna sees for m'self.\"\n\nHe leaned over the gate, tapping its top twice, waiting for Kuouo to offer up the bottle. Since he didn't show open, hostile intent, and Kovrot was asleep... Hey, maybe he could get something Worthwhile Out of this shift, huh?" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo quickly switched the bottle's position, holding it by the neck of the bottle and raising it up to the man like he was safely passing a blade.\n\n```fix\n\"Again, I ain't a wizard. Those bolts are from an... Well, I was gonna say associate, but I don't even want the bastard followin' me - And if he gets closer, then I'mma hafta beat his ass since I already warned him from when I was inside the damn tower - But yeah. That guy fired at ya, and I woulda prolly foughtcha too if ya took a swing at me. Now take just take a lil' swig of that, it's good stuff I promise! I'll even letcha get buzzed if you hurry up and lemme through.\"```\n\nKuouo flashed him with a light smile. The bandit kept a bottle of whiskey on him at all times, whether it be for its intended purpose or for tricky fights where he could use it to his advantage. Like any social drinker, alcohol always tasted better with company - And in this case, he didn't mind sharing, Especially In exchange for information and trust.\n\nThe bandit frowned, reminding himself that there's still an issue tailing behind him. He awaited the results from Aatkei's taste-test, impatiently glancing behind himself and attempting to ensure Cumwall wasn't to get any closer. He closed his eyes, reconnecting his magical link to the fire engulfed around the thrown dagger from earlier in an instant. From there, he clenches his fist and causes the flames around the dagger to explode into a wall of fire that burned no hotter than the max temperature on a modern shower (140 fahrenheit - 60 celsius). ``Okay, that's my last, last warnin'...`` Cumhall could either tank through the fire or walk around the wall, but either option would add a few seconds to manuever around." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"Whis-kay, whis-kay. Better not be a fucken potion you've brewed up, ya blooded wizerd.\"\n\nAatkei reached down, grasping the bottle of whiskey. Hoisting it up to his face, he glared at it intently, gave it a sniff, and swirled it around in its glassen container, before lowering his head behind the gate.\n\nSsssiiiippp...\n\n\"Ehum, hey... Not bad...\"\n\nTaking a cautious, small sip of the liquid, he swallows, with a slight grin.\n\n\"Not bad at all...\"\n\nSwirling the liquid about within the container once again, he sheathed his dagger took a Full Swig, downing a good two-glugs or so before leasing his lips from the glass bottle. A brief pause, as he gives a satisfied breath—\n\n*\"Ackh! Pleghck! Fuck! What in the hell?!\"\n\n—and the spice of the cinnamon Scorched* The throat of the man who had never tried such a beverage before. He coughs and wheezes, lowering the bottle of whiskey, yelling profanities as he recovered from the throat-tickling sensation, slamming his fist against the other side of the gate.\n\n\"Lyin' bastard! It was a blooded potion, you fucken hells-spawn lun-lunar...\"\n\nAnd then he was hit with the Buzz.\n_ _\n\n\"...Lunar magicks, eh...\"\n\"Heh, maybe I was a bit rash, heheh... That's not a bad feelin' at all...\"\n\n...He paused, composing himself, before poking his head back over the gate.\n\n\"Heheh. Heheh... Guess I am gettin' paid after all, heheheh...\"\n\"I was wrongs about you, wiz-erd. Maybe y'ain't a blooded bastard intruder like those piss-knights... This is just like the good stuff, 'em herb drinks the wenchdriver bastard makes up. Not bad at all, not bad at all...\"\n\nHe lowers his head, and Kuouo can hear a brief *THUD* — an impact, as the man landed Just behind The gate.\n\n`Clink, clank, clatter...`\n\n*`P-chok!`\n\nA lock comes undone, and the gate slowly creaks open.\n\n\"You wants in, y'said? Heh... Well, they ain't payin' me, anyway. Thought the Thorn-Crowned was gonna bring some blooded order to this fucken village. Guess nots, cause I ain't gettin' any pay. Dumb bastards're tak'n me for a Branded Exile... Shit-veined bastards don't understand how this Floor even works.\"\n\n\"Anyhow, you brew a good potion, wizerd. C'mon, c'mon, through the gate. That 'ol addict gal Kovrot's sleepin' sound, all that `taarei` in 'er brain. Just don't make too much noise, eh?\"" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "``This guy sure is takin' his ti- Oh yeah, jus' drink the whole thing why don't ya? Well, as long as he lets me in.``* Kuouo rolled his eyes, a snicker soon following after Aatkei's harsh response to the spicy drink.\n\n```fix\n\"Hey man, I told to take a small sip first and t h e n I'd give ya a couple more gulps. If it's yer first time, then of course it's gonna hard comin' down. I guess ya ain't ever have this stuff before, but it's not somethin' to take lightly.```\n\nAnd then Aatkei was hit with The buzz.\n\n``Holy shit this guy is probably the lightest lightweight I've ever seen. That shit kicked in inna whole ass minute.`` The bandit nodded along, smiling as he was finally no longer deemed as a 'blooded bastard intruder' like the knights within — Though it puzzled him... Why were the valiant knights Inside The tower called intruders? He'd have to ask sooner or later. The gate Clicks, Clanks, and Creeeaaaks Open, finally allowing the bandit entrence into the world outside the wall.\n\n```fix\n\"What 'zactly is a branded exile? - Doesn't sound good if they ain't payin' ya. Not much sense in givin' yer labor for free if ya ain't get shit for it. If you're gonna put effort int' somethin', I advise makin' it yer goal to get somethin' out of it at all costs!\"```\n\nKuouo walked through the gate, immediately swiping his bottle of whiskey back into his grasp and taking a half-swig before kicking it closed behind him. Finally, he faced the man with an open hand and a friendly smile on his face.\n\n```fix\n\"The name's Kuouo Aiche Dee - 'Course, y'can jus' call me Kuouo or Kuo, daheh! Promise I won't any more noise than I'm already makin' - Though ya might wanna go ahead and lock that gate. Pretty sure everyone else is pretty hostile... I wouldn't blame them though, we got ambushed and that place has been a battleground since, ya know? If anything, the people in there have a bigger chance of wakin' her up than I do..\"```" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"Beeeh, whatever the hell, wizerd.\"\n\nHe spoke in response to Kuouo's usage of the word 't h e n', allowing him back his bottle of whiskey when he went to swipe it. With a slight, subtle, yet culpable scoff, Aatkei fiddled with the locks on the back of the gate, with a slightly satisfying series of clics, clanks, clatters, and finally a *`p-chok`, just as it had been unlocked.\n\nWith a flick of his wrist, Aatkei sheathed his dagger at his left hip, subtly displaying of his proficiency with the weapon while also showing his lack of intent for further hostilities. Aatkei grumbled at Kuouo's questions, and responded with some frustration.\n\n\"Oh man, y'better believe I don't give labor for free. Slack'n round all day when there ain't no pay, 'n even when I do give a good shot at those damned root-rotted animals, pay's all the same anyway. 'Course, time ain't the most valuable of things in this blooded village. Most've us exiled bastards 'n whoresons are one'n-the-same, cursed about with life lastin' much longer than it's got any right tah.\"\n\n\"But em bastards pay me only enough to, what, once in every four months... Well, ehh... Heh, well, I ain't goin' there.\"\n\n`That fae wench... Exotic as all hell, man. Ain't seen nothin' like 'em on the second floor.`* \n\nAatkei pondered silently, turning his back on the gate. Now that Kuouo had passed beyond the cobbled wall, he could see the rest of the First Floor: a long, trailing path before him, leading to a Moderately-sized village that surrounded the base of yet another gargantuan greattower, overgrown with some sort of large, tendril-like blue root.\n\n_ _\n\n\"Branded exiles...\"\n\"Ain't a worse stigma in the whole Ark `[VEKTET]`—\"\n\n—the RASWALT system buzzes; a hiccup in its translation. The word Vektet had a unique meaning in-it-of-itself, yet the usage would be akin to the nature of the Ark — a ship designed in a tale that just about anybody would be familiar with.\n\n\"...Than being a branded exile. Y'see, this village is made of 'n by exiles, the whole lot. Earliest inhabitants were all of those cast from the glories of the upper floors... Those who stepped out'f line against Tvoktei, the heretical architects and deadweight workers of the Astrolabe, then 'em faedwellers of the Fourth... Dunno if anyone's ever dropped from the Fifth, though.\" \n\n\"Anyhow, this 'ere First Floor is known as the Exile's Watch. Been that way since that Fucker* Aazkue forsook his duty. Turned this place into a blooded cesspool, is what he did. Cause of him, this place was turned into the gathering of all rotten souls in the whole of the Ark. `[VEKTET]`Entirety of this here floor's residents are exiles, or descendants of exiles. That's t' be expected. But Branded Exiles are a whole 'nother breed of cessblood. Those're the type that performed the most wicked of sin, 'n had the root deliberated straight into their brains. Root-rotten monsters is what they are, 'n deserving of their damned fate too.\" \n\nAatkei continued along the path, yet paused, staring back at the sleeping figure of Kovrot, sleeping at her post.\n\n\"...'ey, you said there's others behind you? Beegh... Won't do any good to leave 'er behind, then... Much's she's a bitch... \"\n\n—he said, swaggering back over to the unconscious figure of Kovrot. Slowly, he lifted her up and about his shoulders, carrying her on his back." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo pursed his lips at being left hanging like that, but seeing as this guy didn't really understand the direct translation of 'whis-kay' then it was safe to assume it was simply a matter in cultural difference. Kuouo's experienced it himself as a monster in a human-majority world, this was just another case of it and nothing else. \n\nHe walked down the path alongside Aatkei, following the trail with his eyes and spotting another gigasized tower, snuggly wrapped and possibly entagled by the blue tendril-like root. The bandit put two-and-two together, figuring it might have to do something with the 'root-rotted' Aatkei kept talking about.\n\nThe bandit almost winces at the sudden hiccup in the translating system, not wanting a repeat of the volume issue from before. For some strange reason, the system translated 'ark' into '[VEKTET].' Could that be implying that this super-structure is some kind of ship? ``No it can't be... There's a whole ecosystem on this floor - It's like another world here with different plants and everything!``* The bandit tuned back into Aatkei's explanation of the first floor's inhabitants.\n\n```fix\n\"Alright, so outta that whole bit ya just explained, I got three questions. Ya said that pretty much anybody that falls outta line with this 'Tvotkei' gets thrown down here, right? Who is that guy?```\n\nHe asked, reluctantly stopping while he awaited Aatkei's retrieval of his co-worker. He wasn't particularly excited about the possibility of her waking up and either attacking him or chewing out Aatkei. He'd have to make sure to keep his volume in check.\n\n```fix\n\"Secondly, this root yer talkin' about... Is it the same as the root in that tower? What kinda shit does it do? Why does it turn others into monsters? And thirdly who is 'Aazkue'? I fell one knight within the tower and a friend o' mine fell a giant knight in the tower behind us and botha them kinda spoke about him in their last words...\"```" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He thought for a moment about arguing with the bandit but decided not to, there was no point in causing possible conflict. Instead he stepped back and continued to wait, until he was sure that no one was coming.\nHe sighed so much for teamwork, they would have to find their own ways out.\nIt seemed he had only one way forward, through the gate, and inconveniently past Kuouo.\nFirst he needed to get past the gate however, that would not be an issue however, he had a drone after all but it was just then he noticed, it was missing." }, { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone evidently had been given a mission. Collect as much information on the VEKTET and its functions as possible, and so had occupied itself by trailing ahead, scuttling amongst the flora adjacent to the path like a weird crab and eavesdropping." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "```diff\n- \"Just a fareweather friend..\" -\n```\nHe sighed and reached through the bars of the gate, and crushed the lock within his mechanical grip, he stepped through and pushed it closed behind him, drawing his rifle and pressing the barrel to the metal, he fired multiple times heating the metal, then gripped it and pressed it together, melting the gate closed to make up for the lack of a lock, he didn't want to be rude after all.\nHe would continue slowly, keeping enough distance ahead as to not upset the bandit while he thought of a solution." } ]	318	6,102
446.125	2022-04-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"Pfaah.\"\n\nAatkei subtly rolled his eyes, averting his gaze from Kuouo himself, continuing to tread down the northwards path of the forest. Briefly, the dark-elven ex-highwayman goes silent, contemplating whether or not he really wanted to take up the deal.\n\n`Huh, well suppose I ain't got much of any other reason to hold onto what I got. Long as it isn't the goodstuffs, taarei, I couldn't give less of a shit.`\n\n\"Well, I can give you just 'bout the best deal you could ever hope to sees. Keepin' your head on your shoulders, that's just 'bout the most valuable thing you could have, eh?\"\n\nHe gave a silent 'heh', a slight smile renewing itself upon his face. He did, Technically, Have a better deal — the `taarei` That he had just looted off of Kovrot's unconscious body — but Kuouo didn't know that. Even then, the information he had to share would probably be of even more value to Kuouo himself; the taarei, though, was what was important to Aatkei. He wasn't willing to part with the only pay he'd seen in the past two months.\n\n\"Now see, the people here, they don't like visitors. Well, uh, not too much, right. Give you suspicious glares 'n all, but that's 'bout it, y'sees? But there's two real slimy folk here you should be worried about.\"\n\nThe village grew closer and closer in their approach, and Aatkei slightly slowed his pace in response. He didn't want to arrive Too Early; he still had an explanation to finish... And some remuneration for his explanation, further.\n\n\"Their names're Kaataa 'n Otaaraa. First of the two's a pugilist... Guy's a fucken giant, like the rest of the people here. Me, uh, 'n Kovrot... We're two of the same feather. Not quite as __herculean__ 's the rest of the people in this hellhole. Both of us're elves from the Second Floor, or so I think.\" \n_ _\n\n—he quieted, subtly, on the mentioning of the nature of both himself and Kovrot. Seemed like there was a bit more between the two than met the eye, yet Aatkei tried to keep it on the down-low, swiftly moving on from the digressing subtopic.\n\n\"But that's just 't say that Kaataa ain't someone that a three, three'n'a-half cubit guy like yourself would wanna mess with. He don't take too kind to visitors, 'specially visitors he's never seen before. 'N he's always looking for a fight too. He'd break your jaw if he saw you. Kill ya first, ask your dead 'n broken body later. Wouldn't be hard either, even if you're a wizerd.\"\n\n\"Otaaraa is on a whole 'nother level, though. Guy's one of a pair with Kaataa, does rounds 'bout the Exile's Watch. He's not someone you want to fuck with, 'specially. He hasn't spoken a word since he was exiled here, but I heards from the wenchdriver in the plaza that he was exiled from the Fifth Floor.* One of them scary Eclipse Knights. 'N he has the skills to show for it, too.\"* \n\n\"Anyhow, that's my advice. Pretty valuable stuffs, too. Kaataa wears big 'ol metal gauntlets you could spot from just 'bout anyplace in the Watch, 'n Otaaraa is donnin' a full knight's set of armor. He's got a kinda strange, red blade with him, too — thinks it's somethin' to do with the Eclipse wizerdry they use up on the Fifth Floor. You encountered any of 'em by yourself with the way you're wanderin'-about, you'd be fucken dead, I says.\"\n\nNow finishing his explanation, Aatkei continued at full-speed towards the village — the" }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "Before Kuouo could advance towards the village, his attention would be taken by Chumall speaking up.\n```diff\n- \"Before you say anythin im not followin you, but it just so happens that my objectives lay in the same direction as your objectives.\" -\n```\nHe stood about 30 feet away, as he spoke he began to pace in a circle, not getting any closer to Kuo but constantly moving.\nHis manner of speech was more relaxed than before, he sounded tired, not physically but emotionally.\n```diff\n- \"Therein lies the issue, now im not gonna pretend to know or care why you are being hostile towards me, but the simple fact of the matter is this: you, are in my way.\"\n```\nHe stopped briefly, letting the words sink in before continuing.\n```diff\n- \"Now, far 's i see it we have 2 options here, we can continue this song an' dance an' niether of us make any progress towards our goals, or we can make a deal; you don't get in my way, and i wont get in yours, im not even saying we work together i jus' wanna be able to walk forward without you goin agro on me, is just i came here with specific goals in mind and this\" -\n```\nHe waved his hand vaguely in Kuouo's direction\n```diff\n- \"Ain' helpin'\" -\n```" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "```fix\n\"It sure is,``` \n\nHe said in agreeance with the ex-highwayman. Beating the shit outta people can only get you so far. Being in a dangerous new world was sort of like... Robbing a bank in some kind of way; you had to analyze the environment, the responses of the people around, the obstacles you'll have to overcome, and lastly the golden pot at the end of the rainbow. But in order to obtain the spoils of your hardship, it began with *Information.* The bandit leaned forward, sliding the whiskey bottle neatly into his own pants pocket. He then pulled out a pen and his trusty small, yellow notepad, intent on transitioning certain points of Aatkei's spoken word into physical material.\n\n```fix\n\"I intend t' stay alive my whole way through and I'm willin' to make the payment for the info I need. If all goes well, it'll be in the practice of spendin' some t' make some. Profit, ya know?\"```\n\nHe pressed his thumb on the notepad, flicking his wrist forward until he reached a page without any crude notes or strangely well-drawn anime characters. He scritched his pen across the paper, dutibly noting Aatkei's exposition. 'Kata' and 'Otara' were accurately labeled as threats, Kuouo drawing icons of giant gauntlets and a cool looking swords under their names. He raised an eyebrow, never hearing the term 'eclipse magic' before but nevertheless, he wrote it down. The RASWALT also made sure to loudly translate Aatkei's soft words towards his Cohort, but Kuo half-snickered and made a mental note of that instead.\n\n```fix\n\"These guys from the fifth floor sound like they're real tough. Eclipse Knight sounds like a badass title ya hear in a story! One's strong enough to kick all my teeth in and the other dude has a cool ass title and a self-vow of silence. I suppose I'll make sure I watch myself. Especially since I dunno what this 'eclipse magic' even IS.```\n\nAatkei quickens his pace, walking into the village perimeter. The thief breaks into a half-job before his attention is quickly snagged by the man still on his tail. His face, previously enticed by his new trade partner's river of information contorts into a simple frown.\n\n```fix\n\"Fine, walk forward. But again, I'm callin' my own shots and I've got first dibs on any and everything. That means if you grab up anything that I want, yer in my way. If yer in my way, then you broke the deal and if you broke the deal, then I have no reason t' hold back in order t' get what I want. Understand? That's the deal, no 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts.'\"```\n\nNot even giving Cumhall the courtesy to turn around and see him face to face, Kuouo put his notepad of information away, swapping it out for the whiskey he promised to pay Aatkei in return of the information. He continued to hold it tightly, not quite yet ready to hand the bottle over. Like getting gasoline, it was important to squeeze every last drop out of the nozzle before hanging it up. Upon catching up, he awaited the scruffy-haired man to answer the implied question." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"Oooi... Oi... Oi.\"\n\"Son of a mother-fucken gods-bedamned bitch...\"\n\nAatkei, upon hearing the voice of Another person, Looked over his shoulder with an almost slightly disgusted visage. He grit his teeth as he witnessed that he now had not One, But Two People to worry about poking around the Exile's Watch. And the other one wasn't even Paying him! Damn-it-all; he didn't care much for protecting the gate, but the complications that could and would arise from this little incident would all fall on His head. And Kovrot's. But more his, because he was considered the weaker link of the gate-guard.\n\nHe briefly pressed his hand against his sheathed dagger, and considered his options. However, getting too hasty wouldn't help anything... And, sometimes, violence isn't the answer. As an ex-highwayman, it would be in his nature to fight his way out of trouble... But that was where the Ex- Came into play. Getting your shit kicked in and your life half-beaten from your body can have a massive impact on your character, after all. Aatkei lowers his tensened right hand, shifting it away from the sheathe and simply remaining in his scowl.\n\n\"Whate'r th'-ell, man. Best not cause any fucken' trouble, though, uh?! Your bullshit falls on my nose, I'll fucken' tear both of you two's livers right out.\"\n_ _\n\n...He grumbled, glowering off into the distance. Yet he would turn oncemore, and eye the extended whiskey.\n\n\"What, -uh? You still got a question, wizerd? Noisy fucken' wizard and your noisy fucken' pals, with 'em lunar sorceries?\" \n\nHe questioned. For a moment, he was unknowing of what Kuouo even wanted an answer to, a lifted brow and a still-aggravated expression upon his face and in his tone of voice as he turned to face the bandit behind him. \n\n...However, sobering himself, he took another glance down at the whiskey, and calmed. He did want that drink...\n\n\"Pfeh, well... Eclipse Sorceries, huh... They're-ah, sum'n of a...\"" }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "`\"Hmmm... Hmmm...\"`\n\n—the woman over his shoulders continued to snore, interrupting his statement. She had been unconscious earlier, and continued to appear unconscious, loosely hanging over Aatkei's shoulders as he carried her on his back. And so would this appearance persist, yet...\n\nPoke.\n\nWith her left index finger — her arms wrapped about his neck and hanging over his shoulders, her hands obscured from the two's sight by Aatkei's torso — she jabbed him in the chest. Were it done by a normal person, it'd be a harmless motion. However, Kovrot, as she had demonstrated at the gate, was a practitioner of a certain type of forbidden, arcane knowledge: Necromancy. And by extension, the ability to manipulate Necrotic energy.\n\nSubtly, unseen by the two who followed after the ex-highwayman, a portion of Aatkei's cloak decayed, rotting away. The rot continued through his garb and into the surface of his skin, lightly damaging his flesh in a painful, gnawing jolt.\n\n*`\"Aatkei,\"`\n\nShe whispered, her eyes still hazed and only half-open. Taarei was a powerful drug, and to willingly imbibe such great quantities of it was definitely hindering her ability to stay awake. Yet she was still conscious enough to see, hear, reason, and speak this much.\n\n`\"Don't comply further with the intruders.\"`" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"What in the fuc—\"\n\nAatkei bit his tongue, quieting his alarm as he stared down at the Visible hole in his cloak, a blight of rot beginning to settle into the surface of his skin.\n\n`Shit.`\n`This bitch is still conscious? She must've taken atleast two, three pellets off that stalk... Th' thing's almost completely used up. How much fucken' taarei does she do on a daily basis?`\n\nHe continued to stare down at the secluded portion of rot upon his chest, squinting. It seemed to have stopped growing for now, but, at any given moment, were Kovrot to allow that arcane energy to continue... She could very well burn away the rest of his chest. Fuck, he didn't expect her to be this petty...\n\nAatkei gave a deep sigh, contemplating his circumstances for once in his life. \n\n`Let's see 'ere...\"`\n`...`\n`...`\n`.....`\n`..........`\n`Damn, I ain't seein' shit.`\n\n....Or so he attempted.\nHe snarled lightly under his breath. Bedamned it all if this situation wasn't the most fucken annoying thing he'd dealt with for the past few years or so. \n\n...Yet,\nHe glanced over his shoulder, and glared...\n\n`Fuck. All I wants is that fucken whis-kay. Why's it gots to be so hard, uh?!`\n\n\"Eclipse Sorcery is the stuff of the Arue! Big 'ol, mother-fucken, uhhh.. Bullshit, gots t' do with the bedamned sun 'n moon and the moon-mother, and all that shit! It's blooded, blooded-bloody magic! Now Give me that fucken' whis-kay, you piece've-shit!\"\n\nHe yelled belligerently, before—\n\n\"A-a-ACKHH... YOU STUPID BITCH...!\"" }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "—The necrotic rot began to spread. Fast, painfully, across the chest. Its pace was sped, yet its path hindered; it would not go further than the surface of his skin, as if it was being purposefully controlled to inflict the least permanent damage to his body. Kovrot's finger poked into his chest with clear intent to inflict pain, yet it seemed as though she was partially holding back.\n\n`\"Don't speak another word.\"`\n`\"Escape to the village. Bring me to the Thorn-Crown.\"`\n`\"You've done enough to help these intruders invade the fragile peace we have. I have to warn the Thorn-Crown bef—\"`" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "\"FUCK OFF!\"\n\nHe suddenly yelled, before Up and Throwing Kovrot off his shoulders, launching her seemingly-unconscious body some distance along the path.* Heavily gasping for breath, he clutched his right hand against the rotten, necrotically-damaged section of his chest, aggressively bearing his teeth down at her collapsed form. Quickly Snatching the whiskey, Aatkei frustratedly yelled—\n\n*\"AAGHH!! You stupid, bedamned, bloody mother-fucken rotten pieces of shit! You're all so fucken' annoying! I don't give a shit! I don't give a shit about the Fucken' Root-Crown, I don't give a shit about the fucken' villagers, and I especially don't give a Fuck About the gate-watch, Kovrot! You, stupid, taarei-addicted, crying, incompetent, dirt-gobblin' , titless, BITCH!\"\n\n`How many years? How many god-bedamned years, you stupid bitch, Kovrot? Uh?! You already forgotten now?! Must be that fucken' taarei, you stupid-ass addict...!`*\n\nHe yelled, slowly lowering his right hand to grasp his dagger at his hip." } ]	376.5	3,569
289.066667	2022-04-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo couldn't do much but stand there, watching the two squabble amongst themselves — Until he noticed a decay in Aatkei's garb that wasn't there before; he stepped back, watching the rot reach the skin on his chest and stop like a sharpened blade held against his neck. The decay-inducing girl quietly makes her demand towards Aatkei with dull-sharpness in both her eyes and voice. The ex-highwayman contemplates for a moment, looking at the bandit and the whiskey held tightly in his left paw.\n\n```So whaddya gonna do now my guy? He liked her enough t' not leave her passed out in the wilderness but he's eyein' my whiskey pretty hard... It's gotta be like a 70-30 percent kinda chance.```\n\nAnd then Aatkei spilled the beans.\n\n```Ho-ho-holy shit, she's just like Shigaraki from BNH-```\n\nKuouo followed Kovrot's body with his eyes, watching her land a few meters directly in front of the man crying in pain as the necrosis spread even further across his chest. He willingly lets the whiskey out of his grasp, Aatkei fulfilling his part of the deal at the cost of being attacked by his peer - Err, well, probably *Former* Peer anyways.\n\nIt was apparent now, the bandit had another fight on his hands at the expense of asking too many questions. Information was a dual-edged blade. In the (criminal) underground in which Kuo resided in, it could be used for an advantage, sure... But ask too many and it might anger the wrong person.\n\n. . .\n\nKuouo stepped in front of Aatkei, protectively unsheathing his dagger while blocking Aatkei with his right palm. A deep purple arcane energy screamed a malicious energy around her palm, the Bandit's monster body feeling the nasty aura permeating the air around her and weighing him down.\n\n```fix\n\"Looky 'ere, I dunno much about whatcha guys do but it ain't worth killin' each other over just me wantin' t' know more about this place.```\n\nKuouo slashed his dagger through the air, pointing it at Kovrot.\n\n```fix\n\"If yer gonna kill 'im over wantin' a bottle of whiskey, yer solely mistaken. Now, we can do this the easy way... Put down yer magic, let me and this dickhead go and I'll make sure t' not hurt ya like I did your goons back at the gate. Ya don't gotta warn no Thorn-Crown or whoever the fuck and you get outta this scott-free. Do it the hard way, and I might have t' do ya like I had t' do those knights in the tower.```\n\nKuo nudged his horns towards the tower standing tall in the opposite direction. He stared Kovrot down, tenseness hardening his stance. The bandit knew that one touch - a Poke - could induce a decaying effect across any part of his body as bad as the man behind him or Worse. He took a deep breath, attempting to loosen his body. \n\nKuouo knew had to do everything in his power to not get even so much as a graze from the necromancer in front of him." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "Cumhall thought of a numerous things he could say in reply to the bandit but chose silence instead, the issue was solved, both sides got what they wanted, he had little interest in taking anything from the structure, his assigned drone was scanning any and every thing they passed, the drone that was, still missing as far as he could tell.\nHe sighed and began to walk forward heading for the village, but before he could make very much ground his attention was drawn to the \"Fight\" Between Aatkei and Kovrot he continued walking but much slower, watching from over his shoulder.\nHe thought of many witty remarks or comical phrases but bit them back, it did not matter, none of this counted towards his goal, he went to turn away and keep walking but then his ears were met by the shout of Aatkei and the sound of a body hitting the ground loudly.\nHe sighed.\n```diff\n- \"Of course\"-\n```\nHe muttered under his breath, flicking the safety on his rifle Off For now he simply watched the scene unfold, he wouldn't act until he knew where things were going" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "The dark-elf gave heavy breaths following his yelled speech, his teeth still clenched as his upper chest flared with anger and breathlessness from its long-winded nature. With his dagger now firmly wielded and clenched tightly in his right hand, he stared at Kovrot as she prepared for battle, his bared teeth grinding against one another as he stared, practically seething — yet not reasonless — in reaction to her response. His brow was furrowed, yet strangely his eyes seemed saddened by the sight before him; as if he was regretful in some way or sort from either his or Kovrot's actions. \n\n*\"Shut the fuck up.\"\n\nAatkei turned over his shoulder, staring back at Kuouo and Cumhall as he spoke. His demeanor was aggressive, yet without intent to attack Kuouo himself, born simply out of a desire to silence him in his speech and threat against Kovrot. `'Tsk'`Ing in an audible and defined noise, he returned his gaze face-forward, inverting his grip on the dark dagger in his right hand.\n\n\"I don't need you stupid blooded intruders botherin' on my business.\"\n\nDismissing Kuouo's threatening speech against Kovrot, Aatkei's boots grit against the beaten surface-soil of the pathway, his darkened eyes focused with intent on the woman opposite himself. It seemed as though he had taken it upon himself to deal with Kovrot, likely due to whatever sour relations presided between the two. While unknowing of the tension between the two dark-elves, to the observers and intruders upon the Vektet, it was evident from Aatkei's response to Kuouo's display of aggression that there was a complicated, personal relationship between the two.\n_ _\n\n*Dash.* A swift step forwards, and the ex-highwayman is fleet-footedly mobilized towards the dark-magicks-wielding elf who opposed the three on their trek across the path to the Exile's Watch, brandishing his dagger with a recklessness and wrath justified only by his familiarity and finesse with the weapon. Stabbing the dagger from the upper-left quadrant downwards and inward towards Kovrot's chest, Aatkei takes the first offensive between the two, initiating a short-lived close-combat sequence." }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "The elven woman attempted to permiss no thought beyond her own duty, yet the subtle languish of the circumstances she was forced into could not be entirely hidden from her visage. Faced with unavoidable opposition, her lip pursed, ever-so-slightly, as she gave a slight sigh between her slow breaths.\n\nKovrot's enervated blinks became more and more regulated as time passed on, her tired visage waking slowly as the tension of the battle grew. The mindnumbing properties of the several taarei pellets that she had ingested earlier were still taking a toll on her stature, forcing her into a lazy, hunched, and off-balance posture; yet, fueled by both duty and adrenaline, her senses and reasoning began to sharpen, her now-attentive gaze locked on the form of Aatkei's oncoming dagger. Fatigue became solemnity, and drowsiness faded into a numbed, duty-driven dissociation.\n\n*Check.* She slams her fist-furled right hand into Aatkei's wrist, exploiting his usage of an inefficient icepick grip to check his stab, meeting the force of his swing and matching his physical strength, sending his arm briefly rebounding backwards. The malicious, purple energy of her necrotic magic briefly flared up upon contacting Aatkei's flesh; however, the briefened contact of her fist against his skin seemed to minimize the rot inflicted by the arcane blow, leaving no more than a slight, burn-like mark of necrotic damage." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "Blow checked, Aatkei ups his pace, carefully eying Kovrot's weakened posture, as he simply brushed off the pain from the weak necrotic damage dealt to his greyish skin. He flicks the dagger into an upright position, dextrously shifting his fingertips to swap out of icepick-grip, which had once been proven to be ineffective. \n\nTapping into his (somewhat) honed skills as an ex-highwayman, he utilized his superior footwork to his foe to aggressively close ground, pushing himself as close as he could to Kovrot in one, smooth motion. Her senses and balance were muddled by the influence of the taarei she had consumed, granting Aatkei a significant advantage, in terms of posture and balance. Lowering his center-of-gravity in a crouch, he guilefully trips up Kovrot in her messy backwards retreat, throwing her off-balance and following up with what would be a Lethal slash towards her neck.\n\n`...Damn it...`\n\n...However, upon seeing that it briefly went unchecked, the slash slowed, its intent-to-kill faltering, and its deep, lethal angle shallowing, The blade missing her entirely. Not even grazing the surface of her skin, he terminated the slash early, instead shifting the momentum of the swing to forcefully Punch her in the jaw." }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "`\"—ugh...\"`\n\n—she weakly enunciated, in a muted response to what was a harsh impact. The strike would not be enough to knock her unconscious in one fell swoop, yet it would serve to further disrupt her already atrocious balance, sending her stumbling backwards.\n\nYet, not to be beaten, Kovrot extended her left arm before she fell, Grasping Aatkei's arm, still extended from the strike, and clenching it tightly. The motion served to not only keep her upright, but also to allow her to channel the wicked, purple energy through Aatkei's flesh. The purple sparks of necromantic energy coursed across the surface of his skin, piercing deep into his flesh, which would, at full strength, serve to desiccate the entirety of his arm...\n\n`...Once, you were...`\n\n...Yet she relents in her anger and duty, albeit only for a moment, the inflicted, necrotic energy doing no more than marring the surface of his skin. Her tired composure sullied for a single moment, Kovrot scowled in surprise, anger, and remorse, her wavering irises settling for a split-second on Aatkei's visage. There was tension in the air. A tension of guilt.\n\nKovrot released her grip on his arm, balancelessly stumbling backwards, twice, placing her left hand atop her sored jaw." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "*\"You...!\"\n\nAatkei glared down at his arm, his gaze flaring with a seemingly unfounded rage as he stared at the Lack of critical damage done to his own arm.* His already tight grip on his dagger tightened even more, in a manifold-blend of emotions that erupted throughout the entirety of his body. \n\n`...Bitch! My arm... Would be fucken' gone...`\n`If you...`\n`Then...`\n\n`...`\n\n*\"AAAGH!!\"\n\nShaking his head, he cast aside the thought, and let his anger act for him. The multiplicity of the situation, its frustrations, its complexities, its effects on his future, and the forced thoughts it conjured, was all too much a burden to his psyche. Damned be it all,* He would determine, as the molten sensation of pent-up rage coursed through every vein in his body. Fueled by passion, pride, rage, grief, and guilt, he forced his body forwards in another dash, casting aside his dagger. He furled his right hand into a fist, and swung recklessly, once, then twice, then again, and again..." }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "It had been a while since Aatkei challenged Kovrot to unarmed combat. A very, very long time.\n\nThe last time that she could remember...\n\n`Back when you were still insistent on that highwayman facade...`\n\nPerhaps he had forgotten why he had to cast away that title. Perhaps he had forgotten what she did against and for him that day, and perhaps he had forgotten Every single one of the circumstances that led him to the position he was in now. That day, not long after the Thorn-Crowned brought order to the Exile's Watch, when she met him again, not as family, or as a comrade, but as an Enemy...\n\n*Check.\n`THWACK!`\n\n—The lazy haymaker that he threw, lacking in the characteristic coordination he had built up until now, would not even be able to wind up in its entirety, before she thrust her elbow into his wrist. Without hesitation, she slammed her furled, right fist into his face, countering his flurry of attacks before it could even begin." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "He locked eyes with her, an—\n\n\"Phhfuck—!\"\n\n—she punched him in the fucking Nose!* `You stupid bitc—`" }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "Yes, indeed, it seemed he forgot.\nThe person who added the Ex- To his title as a highwayman...\n...Was Kovrot.*\n\nAs he stumbled back, she pulled back her extended right arm, taking a step forwards — her balance restored. The taarei's effects had entirely begun to wane, her posture and stance now fully sobered and at-the-ready. Reestablishing two, stable feet on the ground, Kovrot takes a sharp breath in, before projecting a swift, powerful strike towards Aatkei. Her left arm plunged towards his lower-chest, and, unhindered, would strike him directly in the diaphragm." }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "`Don't you fucken'... Pull punches... Against me, you stupid bitch...!`\n\nThe blow to his noise, despite lacking in raw strength, was enough to subtly well tears in each of his eyes. Ruffled for a moment, he regains composure, only to find that she is winding up Another attack,* Aimed directly for his stomach. Shifting his guard down, he manages to block the oncoming fist with his forearm. Her fight-ending attack had been weathered, and so it was time for him to strike back.\n\nLowering his guard, he hastily swung his right fist in an upwards motion, seeking to hit her square on the jaw with the uppercut. It was sloppy, yet not slow or weak in the slightest; indeed, if it hit, even someone like Kovrot would be knocked out, cold." }, { "author": "Kovrot", "message": "Her irises divert down, and she clearly sees the oncoming form of the fist before her. Its motion is unguided, lacking in dexterity — easy for someone of her caliber to negate, in its entirety. As if unconsciously, she engulfs her left hand with the wicked aspect of the necromantic rot, its flesh-gnawing nature prepared to seep into Aatkei's flesh, as she went to grab his arm—\n\n`...You don't remember... Not at all.`\n`even then,`\n`you're still that same, naive child...`\n\nKovrot bit her lower lip. Her left arm was extended to preemptively intercept Aatkei's crushing blow, and certainly, were she to do so, she, with the necrotic rot, could Take his arm off. But, in the heat of the moment, she hesitated. There was a moment of reminiscence, a tinge of guilt, and a petrifying aspect of Sorrow. The purple light fades, and—" }, { "author": "Aatkei", "message": "*`THUD!!`\n\nHis fist connected square with her chin.\n\n...And, honestly, the impact was the last thing that Aatkei was expecting. His anger subsided, and he briefly stared in disbelief, as Kovrot was sent hurtling back, falling flat on her back, Unconscious, in a single blow.* He saw it with his own eyes, felt it — she had blocked that, right? She could, she should have, and she had, before. The exact same, sloppy strike...\n\n...Why did it connect?\n\nThe dark-elven man unclenched his fist, furrowed his brow, and stared down, in a moment of troubled unrest. He bared his teeth regretfully, and, growing conscious of his own actions, wistfully averted his gaze.\n\n\"Tch...!\"\n\nTurned away from the two behind him, his face remained unseen, yet his fists furled tight, and his posture hunched forwards. He was upset, yet not in the same manner as before — instead of rage, it was a different form of emotion, entirely. Anger, to be sure, but an estranged form of anger, as one who stewed in some strange form of emotional repression.\n_ _\n\n...The conflict resolved, Aatkei turned to view the two over his shoulder.\n\n\"...Ain't something you two need to be watchin' so intently. Rotten pieces've shit are all you two are. Get lost. Fuck off. Go die in the forest.\"\n\nAatkei weakly cursed the two mercenaries on the trail behind him, staring at them, not with anger, but a more composed sense of disdain. His voice lacked its distinct, scratchy growl, his words formed more direct and calmly then they had been before. The morose state he was left in after his victory in combat left his tone and nature sobered, lacking of its crude clamorousness that it once had. Indeed, it felt as though he had been emptied, to a degree.\n\n...The man steps forwards, towards Kovrot's collapsed form, crouching down, softly lifting her by each arm over his shoulders. Standing upright, Aatkei stormed off without a further word, abandoning the two on the trail. Even with Kovrot on his back, his speed would be quite impressive — they'd be able to keep up if they sprinted after him, yet continuing to follow him in the first place would likely be fruitless.\n\nHis dagger remained abandoned on the path behind him. An accident to be sure; yet a symbolic accident, nonetheless." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "With no further obstructions, the path to the was left open to the two. Little could further be done on the trail, and the village was close enough that it could be reached in less than half-a-minute." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "```fix\n\"... What a fight. He laid her ass out!```\n\nKuouo glanced past the dagger left on the road, watching Aatkei make a beeline down the pathway their fight obstructed. Kuo felt responsible for having the ex-highwayman initially injured, but it seemed Aatkei's pride, anger, and guilt severly outweighed the bandit's choice to fight. In the end, the only thing he could do was step back and observe the two settle their pent-up vendetta.\n\nWith their clash settled, the tone in Aatkei's voice was settled, softer, and all the more somber. Kuouo attempted to speak but by the time he raised his voice, his trade partner had dashed away - Once more with the same unconscious girl upon his back, though for different reasons.\n\n```fix\n\"Enjoy yer whiskey, friend. It'll help dull the pain, don't worry.\"```\n\nKuouo dryly smiles and walks along the trail path, seeing no need to run — That is, until he spotted Cumhall out of the corner of his eye. The bandit scowls and pools mana around his feet, he moves his leg forward, seemingly about to take step before appearing several meters ahead in a near-instant. Kuouo flashstepped once, twice, now three times leaving not a single cloud of dust in the air. He deeply exhaled, slighty winded by its continuous usage, but the distance covered should suffice. He advanced forward, finding himself steps away from the entrence of the village.\n\n```fix\n\"Ya know, in hindsight it woulda been helluva lot easier t' just get my motorcycle out.\"```" } ]	258	4,336
413.210526	2022-04-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "Being the first to enter the forest, Gaige would be granted a headstart, allowing him to acclimate himself to his new surroundings. The forest was dark, damp, and filled with forest flora — yet scarce a sign of fauna; there was only the vague silhouettes of elk-like, horned, quadrupedal creatures some distance from him, and they scurried upon the sight and sound of the approaching man. The dense, musty trees served to dominate the atmosphere with their pungent scent akin to mildew or moss, and their dense foliage served to blot out the faint green skies above. Combined with the slight haze of fog that rolled across the floor of the forest environment, it would be an environment naturally drowning to the senses — sight, smell, and sound, all hindered by the unfavorable terrain.\n_ _\n\n_ _\nYet, within the fog, something Blue Shined. Something which Gaige had already taken to following: the familiar sight of the blue root which he had once seen before, in the subterranean caves beneath the Embrace of Sol, as well as growing about the greattower off in the distance. The root seemed almost omnipresent within the First Floor of the Vektet, Growing wherever it pleased, ignoring environmental conditions, entirely. From subterranean circumstances, to forested circumstances, to even above-surface and about human structures, it grew, and grew, and grew, ever-prevalent, and yet with an unknown purpose. Further, it seemed to be naturally poisonous upon ingestion, corrupting those who consumed it with horrid, body and mind-altering effects. It was, by itself, one of the many mysteries of the Vektet, and quite a big one, to those ends.\n\nAt least it gave him a guide to follow.\n\nThe blue root started subtly, as only slight protrusions peeking from the slightly ashy dirt of the ground beneath him. Its formations were no greater than that of the average tree-vine's — about 3cm in diameter — and extending like tree roots throughout the dirt, poking up and down from its surface. However, as he followed further, the Vines would only grow thicker, longer, and more effulgently blue. The forest around the blue root seemed to subtly alter in increasing observability as it grew larger and larger, their brown bark turning to that of a Pale, greyish-blue hue.\n\nThe forest flora grew more and more alien as he followed the root... And, perhaps the same was true for the fauna, but the latter could not be confirmed — for, as he approached the denser growth of the blue root, the fauna strangely seemed to Disappear. The elklike creatures further back within the forest had distinctly disappeared, and there were little-to-no signs of movement, beyond that of the altered trees' leaves flowing in the wind.\n\n_ _\n\n\n*`CREAK.`\n\n\n\nSomething sounds from within the forest.\n\n...He'd ought to keep his guard up.\n\n\n_ _\n\n— —\n\nTabby, who had entered the forest much later than Gaige, would be left quite some distance behind his trail. She, too, would be met with the sense-dampening environment of the dense forest, the Thick, musty, mildew-y scent* Of the wetted trees sprouting along the riverbank of the rusty brooks serving to be some obstruction to her trail. She would be positioned a long-way's distance from Gaige, who had already travelled far into his expedition within the darkened woods. Considering her unfamiliarity with the environment and the unsurity of Gaige's exact position, she may very well be whole minutes behind him, and that number would only grow the further Gaige trekked through the forest.\n\nThough, within the fog, she can see a Blue glow.\n\nOnce acclimated to the strange, alien alteration of the deep forest, Gaige, who had just heard the noise from even Deeper Within the forest, would be met with a sharp chill that descended his spine. Within the darkness, and beyond his sight, *Something crept.* Its presence was not even as much as a silhouette; rather, Gaige could only feel its presence due to the subtle unease within his body, as if he could Feel It move from afar. Someone, or something, was crawling through the blue-root-ridden forest, its motions unseen and barely heard from afar, as it stalked him on his continuance through the forest. \n\nThe ground grew more rugged, and the fog grew even thicker. The scent of mildew is replaced with that of a hollow, metallic scent, and the air feels as though it has begun to chill, ever-so-slightly. \n\n*TAPTAP...\n\n—From above. The tall tree to his two-o-clock.\n\nSCURRY\n\n—To his right. Dead on three, behind the tree to his right-face.\n\n`thump, thump`\n\nA more harsh and audible sound of footsteps. Something heavy. Something big. And something Close.* To his five, quickly approaching from behind.\n\n*`THUMP, THUMP`\n\n—It's close. Very close. It approached before he could even turn, directly at his six-o-clock—\n\n\n\n`\"Keeeeeeeeek...\"`\n\n\n\n\n__It's here.__\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n_ _\n\n_ _\n\n`\"Keeek...\"`\n\nThe creature briefly vocalizes, and, just as Gaige is given time to turn around, It strikes.* A wicked, elongated right hand, constructed not out of wood, flesh, bone, or any typical tissue seen on an animal, but Wood, Tears through the hushed atmosphere of the deep forest, aiming to kill Gaige in a single blow. Its body was construed of a material akin to the strange, rootlike wood that Gaige had once seen corrupt the entirety of the so-called traitor, Vaarektaak.\n\nReminiscence and comparisons on its form to a former individual he had seen before would have to wait, however — Dodging its strike Would have to come first. The right hand of the creature flies towards Gaige, seeking to grasp him in its clawlike right hand. Its fingers were long enough to wrap about his entire body — and, the attack would most likely Mutilate Him, were he to be struck. However, there were open profiles to Dodge to the left, right, backwards, or even below the grab." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "His speed did not let up as the fauna began to decrease in number. His speed did not let up as the trees began to become infected by the blue root. _His speed did not let up as the woods began to creak around him._ Although, abruptly—just as the beast's claw reached out to him—his momentum instantly shifted to the left, the hand whizzing by the hero. \"_Okaarum,_ return.\" The man calmly spoke the words which called _Okaarum,_ the bone pillar manifesting just above the large creature. With tremendous force, the pillar slammed down on the creature, likely causing the beast to collapse instantly. Of course—he expected the creature to still live, using the opportunity he had created to continue his rush through the dense forest.\n\nAs with his past fight with Kaaze, the hero showed no fear nor panic at the sight of this unsightly beast. A stray beast cannot possibly withhold more power than the Knight of Sol he had felled. Gaige's sprint did not let up, _Okaarum_ eventually being recalled; the broken blade still followed to the left of him, the man dashing between trees to hopefully slow down the beast which chased him. Such a beast would prove frivolous to the hero, but he had no intentions of combating the cat who still chased him—the sound of her voice echoing throughout the forest; unfortunately for her, such a scream would be likely to attract the denizens of this forest which trailed him.\n\nWith the way things were currently going, his best option to defeating the singular beast that trailed him would be attrition. Abuse its mindless qualities, attacking every so often whilst running throughout the forest. Eventually, the beast would fall, him continuing to build distance in the forest from the feral cat." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Any second spent not running is a second spent where Tabby advances ever so slightly, refusing to let up even after all this time.\n\nShe realizes that, perhaps, she should probably be carrying her crossbow as she runs, fishing into the weapons bag and grabbing it out, attaching it to a grip on her back as she runs. Certainly not the most elegant solution, but she has her dagger to keep things busy.\n\nNoticing the large root, Tabby Doesn't stop to look at it, instead jumping over and leaping off of each individual root that dared to get in her way, only respecting trees and bushes enough to move around in her conquest against Gaige. He may not want it, but she sure does.\n\nNoticing that shouting would be inefficient now, she instead chooses to remain quiet, Thaumaturgy Failing as a result as she keeps a steady pace, refusing to be beaten. Thankfully, her ability of Rocky Road Aids her in her sprint, causing each root, tree or bush to be quite trivial to dodge or hop over." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Tabby's pursuit would be met now with a major hindrance, as she continued to follow and walk upon the form of the Blue root. The further she followed it, the stranger the forest grew, its trees' brown bark turning a strange, cold, bluish-grey color, with an almost ashy exterior texture. The blue root actively seemed to be corrupting the forest as it grew thicker and thicker, and the aura about Tabby became strangely chilled, the hollow scent of metal dominating the atmosphere about herself.\n\n...Considering all the noise she had made earlier, it would come as no surprise that Something had heard her. Rustling can be heard from multiple directions — left and right, then behind, and infront, from beyond the figures of the trees. Something was matching her speed; something was Stalking her, Even in her rapid pace. Its creeping motions remained unseen and unsensed by the naked eye as it followed the hunter's trail. \n\n*`SCURRY... SCURRY... RUSTLE.`\n\nThe sound of footsteps, twofold. They approached from her five- and seven-o-clock, respectively, and, apparently, they were travelling above and beyond her own sprint speed — for they were getting Closer,* And quick. The declarative noise she had made upon her entry to the forest now only served to betray her, for it attracted Multiple predators, all at once. They grow closer and closer, yet the form of the creatures from which they originate remained unseen, creeping stealthily yet speedily through the darkness of the twisted forest as she continued along and atop the blue root.\n\n*`THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.`\n\n\n_ _\n\n_ _\nThe footsteps were closer. Much closer, and now gathered solely to her six-o-clock. And, as suddenly as she could hear their closened footsteps, the creatures emerged from their stealth within the brush once they had crossed enough distance to appear Directly behind her, within the effective range of their gnarled, wooden claws.* Two they were, and with only two eyes between the two of them; yet they were Massive, and certainly an immediate threat to her own safety. The creature behind and to her right extends its elongated, left claw-like hand with explosive force to grasp her, seeking to restrain and mutilate her, were its grab to connect. However, given her sense of Alert, she could likely dodge to the Left or right, or even below the grab entirely. The second root-beast would have to be taken into account for, as well: it had not yet made a move, yet it may very well aim for her life in the moment that she dodges.\n\n_ _\n\n\n\n\n— —\n\n\n\n\n_ _\n\n*The creature, struck head-on by the force of the monumental pillar that was Okaarum's raw form, recoils, its pursuing, stalking sprint broken and turned into a skidding tumble.* While pursuing him from behind at matching speeds to his own sprint, the impact fully halted the entirety of its momentum, the creature tumbling into the ashy dirt and undergrowth of the alien forest floor. The creature remained pinned for several seconds, incapable of moving, yet eventually manages to break free from Okaarum's downward weight by Shedding a part of its own body. Wood roots unravel from its center mass, falling loosely to the ground, as the creature's body is freed, and it Continues its sprint, even faster, pursuing Gaige.\n\nAnd, indeed, despite his incredible speed, this creature, in its lightened form, surpassing even Gaige's own velocity. While it had lost a significant amount of distance between itself and its target, the creature pursued hot on his trail, its wicked, thorny maw wide open, and its singular eye affixed upon Gaige himself. It approached and approached, yet still remained some distance behind Gaige — enough for him to comfortably maintain his lead for some time.\n\n\n\n*`RUSTLE.`\n\n\n...Clearly, several meters ahead of Gaige, he could see something Move.* Something in the trees, some distance beyond him within the forest, perched atop an elevated branch. While whizzing forwards with extreme speed, its silhouette — much smaller than the creature behind him, and more humanoid — would remain within his sightlines for several seconds. A peering, blue glow emanated from the upper 'head' of the silhouette, and it appeared to be facing and watching Gaige as he sprinted through the forest.\n_ _\n\nYet, as he passed under the silhouette, it would not move, nor pursue him, instead remaining positioned within that same tree.\n\n...Or so he thought.\nThe silhouette, mere moments later, manifested directly ahead of Gaige, perched atop a branch, yet again. It was not merely a similar silhouette, but an identical one — the figure that he had clearly passed somehow managed to appear several meters ahead of him without a trace of motion. Was it merely an illusion? Incredible speed? Or Teleportation?\n\n```ini\n[ ₕₘₘₘ... ]```\n\n\n`Creak...`\n\nThe branch shifts slightly. Within the darkness, it's hard to make out, but the silhouette is Drawing back a bow.\n\n```ini\n[ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇⁱᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ... ]```\n\n*`—Fft!`\n\n—The nocked arrow is released, silently whistling through the air. The silhouette's target initially appeared to be Gaige, himself, yet as the arrow was leased, it cleanly flew above and beyond him. Its target was not him, but rather, the Root-beast pursuing him.* The strange, helix-spiral wooden arrow strikes the beast in one of the rootlike appendages it used to travel at high-speeds, Instantaneously causing it to tumble to the ground, Despite the arrow's notable lack of raw impact force. It was a strange reaction to such a weak attack; it was as if the creature had been Poisoned, If such a thing was even possible.\n\nThe silhouette stands, allowing Gaige to pass beneath and beyond itself, yet seems to continue overlooking him as he sprints through the forest. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n...Yet, as Gaige clears significant distance—" }, { "author": "Roqaa-che", "message": "```ini\n[ \"Hello!\" ]```\n\n—and sped past a particular tree, He spotted him. The same silhouette of the man within the treetops, yet clearer — now positioned at eye-level with Gaige. Yet again, his apparent position had shifted in an instant — from atop a tree, several-dozen meters behind Gaige, to now directly ahead of him. While he wouldn't actively reach out to stop him, the man would hope for Gaige to stop in his sprint for but a moment.\n\n```ini\n[ \"Might I bother you one moment? You seem quite preoccupied, but if you'd just stop and listen...\" ]```\n\nThe man requested. He was clearly humanoid, and very clearly intelligent; however, the man had a most strange visage... Or, well, a lack of one, for that matter. Rather, where his eyes should have been, Blue root was positioned instead, Seemingly growing from the inside of his head. It was as if his face had fused with the blue root, itself, yet not in such a destructive manner as Gaige had seen two times before — no, rather, the root retained its effulgent blue luster, and the man's skin retained its clearly human traits. \n\nThat did not eliminate the potential that he could still be a threat to Gaige, however.\nWhether he would trust the man to stop and speak for a moment was up to him; he very well could have had hostile intent, despite his amiable tone of voice." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Thinking quickly, Tabby weighs her options, glancing at the Bags of Holding on her waist as she springs into action, turning around and choosing to make use of a slide that make a professional baseball player jealous. Maybe. Probably not.\n\nShe slides under the beast's grab, slipping up her dagger — magic energy pulsing from it as she strengthens the humming glow through Searing Smite Using her Bonus Action First and foremost, causing it to explode with white-hot flames as she attempts to stick it into the creature's forearm, assuming that perhaps the forest-looking thing is horrifically weak to fire. She casts it at _4th Level_, her first-of-two spell slots being burned up in the process, unwilling to let even the slightest chance of a retaliation from this... Thing Trying to kill her. \n\nHopefully this persuades the welcoming committee to put their tail between their legs and run. She thinks, still wary of whatever attack that might come flying at her as she hisses and stifles an angry howl; probably not the best idea to let one loose given the circumstances.\n\nRegardless, with her Steel Defender still in the bag, Tabby is forced to End her Turn, just praying that the thing runs the hell away." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "His 50 mph sprint does not let up, but the hero was shocked as the thundering footsteps of the beast began trailing him again—_closer_. `Back again, huh...?` Dashing between trees, Gaige's evasive maneuvers likely were slowing the beast. There was no need to throw an attack at it yet, the beast still following far behind him. During all this, Gaige did not let up on following the blue root from a safe distance, likely nearing the origin with how the area around him had begun to shift. _Something else was stalking him though._\n\nHis pupils glanced up at the shadow which disturbed the foliage of the trees with its movement. `Mmmm...?!` He sorted out options within his mind to combat the figure in the trees, eventually noticing the _blue glow_ radiating off the head of it. The blue glow showcased undeniable similarities to that of the blue root which he had been speeding alongside. Not to mention the same blue root which infested Okot and the dead mercenary. Seeing as the silhouette made no offensive actions towards Gaige or the beast, he blew by underneath the shadow. _Or so he thought._\n\nAnother silhouette revealed itself a distance ahead of himself: _the same silhouette._ What were the intentions of this being? Was it after him? The beast? Or perhaps was it just _watching...?_ He had no time to decipher the means to which the silhouette moved throughout the trees at such a speed. Eventually though—_the silhouette began to move_. Gaige's eyes squinted as the figure had started to move, before his eyelids parted in an instant—his sprint descending into a slide.\n\n_ _\nHis precautionary slide proved meaningless as the arrow flew well above him, transfixing itself directly into the beast which pursued him. The hero's movement halted as he watched the beast collapse with but one arrow. No normal arrow could down a beast of that size—one capable of surviving a hit from _Okaarum._ Disregarding the strange nature of the arrows, his sprint returned—blowing past the silhouette once again before _yet again,_ they had appeared in front of him. Was he their next target? He prepared to call upon the dragon-bone pillar to combat the threat, but was not met with hostility. It was in Gaige's nature to establish relations with those he encounters; violence acted as more of a last resort to the hero. Despite the possibility of more beasts being on his tail, he Halted his sprint. If more beasts were approaching, he had no doubt in the hunter's abilities to slay them just as he did with the first.\n\nHis gaze affixed upon the man who communicated with him from the sanctity of the treetops. \"It'd be wonderful to listen in on what you have to say, but some _mercenary_ is pursuing me. Dunno why really, but I have no intention of fighting them.\" He responded to the archer's friendly request, hoping they would assist him if they wished to speak with him. \"If you wanna have a chat, that'll need to be dealt with first.\" He stood his ground, awaiting a response from the root-infested archer. Of course, he had his questions regarding the blue root which plagued the archer's body, but he'd need to circumvent his pursuer first." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "Josh and Shade arrive at the forest, searching for any signs of Tabby or the others." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "The searing spell imbued into her blade, Tabby slid and stabbed into the form of the first of the two root-monsters, the flames of her blade coursing through its wooden flesh and setting them ablaze. The arcane sparked off of its living-wood, and the white flame engulfed its arm and upper body; yet, the creature did not give so much as a howl or scream, instead remaining completely silent as it had up until this point. It appeared that the creature was either entirely mindless or entirely unfeeling of pain — most likely the latter, considering its intellect in stalking, and the likelihood that, withwhat Being construed of roots Would entail, it probably had no nervous system to begin with.\n\nThat is to say that her attack is effective, neutralizing the threat of its right arm in the same motion that she dodged, the flames consuming the moving, rotary portions of the creature's fleshless 'shoulder', rendering it incapable of moving its right arm. Consumed in a blaze, the creature's upper body was likely soon to follow, yet until it had fully been consumed, it was Still a threat. Clearly still capable of moving the rootlike appendages that served to be its legs, the large creature twisting its lower-body in a motion such to enable it to Swing its left arm towards Tabby, now prone, Slashing towards her chest. As was for the last attack, allowing it to hit certainly would not be pretty, whatsoever.\n\nThe second beast, unfavorably positioned to attack Tabby — seeing as she is positioned almost under the first beast now — does not yet attack, instead strafing about her, and entrapping her from Behind.\n\n\n\n\n— —\n\n\n\n\n_ _" }, { "author": "Roqaa-che", "message": "The lower half of the strange man's rootgrown face — his mouth, which was still clearly human — gave a slight smile, the man nodding as he had convinced Gaige to stop in his sprint forwards. However, his pleased demeanor shifted to that of slight concern as Gaige continued, tilting his head as he took in the latter portions of his statement.\n\n```ini\n[ \"Pursued, hm...? I suppose that would be the source of that awfully loud noise that stirred up the Desecrated.\" ]\n[ \"They're quite sensitive to sound, you know, and they haven't seen their choice type of feed for many-a-year; that is, flesh and meat. It's a terribly scary thing to see so many of them roused at once.\" ]```\n\nThe bow-wielding man briefly explained, before staring over Gaige's shoulder, further behind him, where he sensed the presence of another. With an understanding nod, he seems to confirm some sort of initial judgment, softly placing his left hand atop a quiver fastened about his belt. Withdrawing two more of the helix-spiral wooden arrows that Gaige had seen strike down the first root-beast — the so-called Desecrated, as delineated and titled by the archer himself — he hones his senses, deeper focusing on the sound of the conflict, far-off in the distance.\n\n ```ini\n[ \"I understand you may dispute with this mercenary you speak of, but it is not of my nature to leave a fellow soul to die within this forest. Especially not by the hands of the Desecrated, who know not their own sins.\" ]```\n\nThe man steps past Gaige, nocking a single of the two arrows within his left hand's grip, sharply focusing his senses. As he motionless felt through the terrain and form of forest from afar, he could sense that there were many trees between him and his target.\n\n...However, with some `assistance`, spatial boundaries would be no issue for the archer.\n_ _\n\n```ini\n[ \"O' Veirok...\" ]\n[ \"...Grant me might...\" ]```\n\n*`Fft!`\n\n—he spoke a short prayer, as the helixed wooden arrow began to glow a familiar, effulgent blue. Leasing the arrow from the bow, it travelled some distance, before Disappearing in a blue flash, vanishing from sight entirely.\n\n`...Fft!`\n\nSwiftly nocking a second arrow, it likewise was engulfed in the blue glow, and he fired it off just as quickly as the first. Identically, it disappeared in a blue trail, unnaturally vanishing from the eye's sight, as if it had been Transported elsewhere.\n\n```ini\n[ \"That should take care of that.\" ]```\n\n__Tabby__, still in her conflict with the two rootbeasts, would notice the figure of Two arrows,* Manifesting from a blue glow, striking the creature that had flanked behind her in its back, twice. The creature staggers as the arrows collide with its wooden flesh, before abruptly Collapsing, dead.\n\n```ini\n[ \"I do not know why you are being pursued,\" He spoke, returning to face Gaige, \"But, as an arbiter of the forest, it is in my nature to assist virtuous souls who follow the secret of the Divine Root.\" ]\n\nThe man stared at the floating, shattered sword that floated alongside Gaige.\n\n[ \"...Though, so as by the sword you wield, it appears more that you are a seeker of purity.\" ]\n\n...He seemed slightly distraught upon initially sensing the presence of the enchanted blade alongside Gaige, yet a sense of understanding overcame such an initial notion.\n\n[ \"If you follow the Divine Root, you certainly seek answers as to its nature. As its humble servant, I am obliged to assist you in this endeavor.\" ]\n\n[ < 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦... 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴... ] ```\n_ _\n\nHe whispered the latter half, pacing beyond Gaige, briefly staring about the forest around himself. Holstering his bow, he placed his hands to his mouth, forming them into a familiar shape — a cupped, hand-whistling formation. Blowing harshly between each hand, the whistling sound of his breath echoed throughout the forest, calling out to the deepest of its depths. `And it responded.`\n\nA blue glow manifests some distance ahead of the strange man's form, As a creature manifests from nothingness, loyally responding to the archer's call.\n\n_ _\nA strange, quadrupedal creature, with a massive stature — standing about 185-cm off the ground — appeared. Its strange form would be entirely alien to Gaige, yet its motifs seemed to be akin to the blue root, itself, with small signs of the blue growth covering its strangely-textured skin. A saddle was positioned atop its back, enough for two to mount the creature simultaneously.\n\nThe archer mounts the beast, motioning towards Gaige—\n\n```ini\n[ \"Seeker of secrets, come with me! I will bring us to a place more suitable for conversation.\" ]```\n\n—Were Gaige to oblige, and place himself atop the saddle, the creature would lift its head, acknowledging its master's call, before dashingin the same direction as Gaige's initial sprint. Soon after it began its wolven sprint through the forest, the creature encased itself in a dense aura of Magical energy, the world about the two flashing into a bright blue glow. Strangely similar in nature to the glow that Gaige had recently experienced — upon his entry to the Vektet — the glow would grow and grow, consuming the two, before Transporting them entirely elsewhere." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Seeing that the creature wasn't fully enveloped in flame was quite shocking to the technomancer, seeing as... Well, back home, Searing Smite Seemed to just always do that. But this isn't Ten-Towns, is it?\n\nAnd then, of course, there's the more immediate issue. _There's a left-arm swing coming right for her, yes, armored body, but also Exposed_ to the might of the swing. Armor or no armor, This is going to hurt. \n\nHow coincidental that the same phrase crossed her mind in this exact instance, as her gauntlet falls to her side, dropping the dagger as she reaches for her belt, grabbing hold of the soft-yet-sturdy fiber used to make her trusty Trinket Bag of Holding, preparing to go practically Nuclear.\n\nBetter to chance it with the big guys instead of dying right here. She mentally quips, practically accepting her fate at this current moment in time, before...\n\nTHUNK. THUNK, Followed by a bunch of noises which could only be assumed to be something quite mighty falling to the ground, dead. For the first time in what feels like forever, Tabby is certainly surprised, yet instead of following through with the absolute worst case scenario, she quickly grabs her Weapon Bag of Holding, taking the Use an Object Action to pull forth from the bag, her Steel Defender, ready to trade the Desecrated's blow with one of its own, practically shielding Tabby under its mechanical forearm, arm in motion." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "Josh and Shade kept searching the forest, trying not to make Too Much noise in case anything else was in with them. After a while of searching, Josh and Shade sat down, unable to find anything.\n\n\"Damn, I haven't seen any signs of anyone... Hey, Shade, did you place those markers like I told you to?\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"What markers?\" Shade asked, confused." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"You're... Joking right? I mean the markers I told you to set so that we could find our way back..\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"OOOOOhhhh, those... Yea about those-\" Shade began to say" }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "Josh extended his arm backwards, then shaping it into a gigantic fist, proceeding to pummel Shade into the ground. \"I TOLD YOU TO PLACE THOSE SO WE COULD FIND OUR WAY BACK YOU BRAIN-LACKING BLOB OF SHIT!\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"OW- OW- OW\" Shade kept repeating, until eventually Josh stopped." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"Sigh.. It's fine. I didn't want to use up my DT so quickly but it looks like we'll have to.\" Josh said, changing his body over a period of time to match the shape and internal mechanisms of a car.\n\n\"This is going to drain a lot of DT, Shade. Which means we'll have to plop a lot of those pills to replenish. Once we run out of those, we're dead, remember that.\" Josh said, driving off in a random direction with Shade." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "The hero keeps his guard up as the stranger drops from his elevated position. \"The Desecrated?\" He inquired, soon realizing the archer referred to the root-infested beasts that roamed the forest. His eyesight followed the archer as they moved past him, Gaige turning to observe his archery. With where the man seemed to be aiming, his intuition that the cat's vociferation had brought beasts to her proved true. He was tempted to stop the man from assisting her, but did not. He did not wish harm upon any of the mercenaries—even the unpleasant ones. Though, how would this archer shoot a target that far off? The timber blocked his line of sight, and if he were to loose an arrow, it'd no doubt strike a tree.\n\nHis question would be answered with the man's recital. Similar to the hero, the archer was utilizing _prayers._ Useful information for the hero to digest, showcasing that more types of prayers existed outside of Unity and Disparity. The main form of magic in this world thus was assumedly a form of borrowed power from greater entities.\n\n*`...Fft!`\n\nThe arrow was let loose, yet the hero—despite his combat prowess—could not even see the arrow, let alone even Sense* It as it vanished from reality itself it seemed.\n\n_`\"That should take care of that.\"`_\n\n_ _\nHe reflected upon those words; was this man really that confident in his aim? If those arrows did strike true, this archer would prove to be of unmatched skill. Gaige himself had experience with archery—his usage of the _Prophetic Bow_—but he was no where near the skill that this man possessed. Luckily for him, it would seem they did not seek combat. It was a relief to encounter a denizen of this land who was willing to chat, unlike the knight Kaaze. The hero listened as the archer referred to him as a seeker of purity. Gaige glanced towards the sword which hovered near him and back to the archer. In truth, he did not know exactly what possessing this sword meant. He knew of it as the former blade of Aazkue—the brother who sought disparity—and nothing more. Hopefully, a conversation with this archer would grant him insight to the lore of this world.\n\n_ _\nThe archer would be right; the hero had an immense curiosity as to what exactly the so-called 'divine root' was. To him, it was a danger—a poison. To this man though, it seemed to emanate divinity. His questions would be answered according to this man, so he too, was obliged to cooperate with the archer. An eyebrow of the hero raised at the archer's whispering. It seemed that Gaige did not hear the whisper of the man.\n\nAs the archer moved past the hero, he couldn't help but display a smile of relief. He too, would enjoy a casual conversation. His short-lived chat with the _elf_ was enjoyable despite his haste to leave the cavern. His reminiscence was suddenly interrupted by the whistle let out by the archer. The hero's attention immediately refocused upon the archer, witnessing the humongous beast as it manifested before his very eyes. He analyzed its alien form, taking note of the similarity it possessed to the root. The archer had mounted the beast, requesting that Gaige follow suit. For a moment, he glanced back towards where the arrows were fired. Shaking his head, he turned to the root-infested man.\n\n\"Very well.\" He accepted the man's request, slightly struggling to get atop the beast, but eventually he seated himself upon it. With his right hand, he grasped ahold of the archer's shoulder. Soon after, the beast took off in a burst of speed, before the magical energy began to converge upon it. _He recognized this feeling. It mimicked that of the teleportation the Odysseus Corporation used._ Just what was it that they were up to...? He vanished along with the archer and the beast, arriving in a new, alien landscape." } ]	258	7,851
131.555556	2022-04-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "She cringes back, withdrawing her dagger and breathing through her teeth in disgust. Why do I wield the dagger in my non-gauntlet hand? She curses herself out as she shakes said hand, trying to get the eyeball soup off before having a bit of a \"Oh, duh\" Moment.\n\nTabby waves her fingers, casting a small, not-at-all-lethal dosage of the cantrip Frostbite, covering her goopy fur with snow & ice, taking said hand and pulling out a few things from her Trinket Bag of Holding — a tinderbox and 1 unlit torch, which she scrapes against the box — laid on the ground — and positions under her goopy left arm as the flame newly flickers from the edge. Waste of a torch, sure, but Tabby doesn't have a use for them otherwise with innate Darkvision.\n\nThe torch begins to melt the snow, turning it into water as she begins to shake said hand, trying to free it of all the crud that was newly nestled in her black coat. Upon melting, she snuffs the torch and reaches into her bag once more, pulling out a bar of soap and taking extreme care to lather her hand Very Well. If it wasn't blood and shit, Tabby would just lick it off like any other cat. For some Strange Reason, that isn't the case here. Wonder why.\n\nWith that out of the way, Arcane Weapon Ends its enchantment via intentional loss of concentration, and Tabby casts Mending On it, the blood not setting on the fine metal of the blade and instead just dropping off rather unceremoniously. \n\nThe cat takes a deep breath as her defender steps back into the bag. Well, that was a shitshow. But, instead of leaving, the artificer inches closer to the dead Desecrated, observing them and getting up-close and personal in attempt to glean some information on their make-up. Surely, curiosity never hurt anybody, right?\n\nHer dagger slips back into her Weapon Bag, as she reaches into the trinket for her notebook and an ink-covered quill, ready to mark her findings down before giving chase to Gaige once more." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "As Josh and Shade are gliding, Josh notices between the leaves of the trees, one of the mercenaries!\n\"Shade, we're about to make an emergency landing!\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"Wait huh-\" Shade was unable to finish as Josh turned his body into that of a rubber ball, with Shade quickly doing the same. They fell down to the grass beneath and they bounced for a while, before losing the momentum." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "The Desecrated beast's body was incredibly strange. It seemed, certainly, to have an internal structure akin to a mammal. Its woody roots twisted and weaved into familiar structures, and the inner fibers of the stalk intertwined into the familiar forms of mock-muscle tissue, flesh, and even what appeared to be false-sinew. It was as if the creature was constructed to have a similar interior makeup to a typical animal, yet possessed a material makeup exclusively of wood... Or, perhaps, it actually Was Once a creature, yet was simply overrun with a wooden rot. Strange. Anything could be possible, considering how utterly impossible its physiology was, by normal standards.\n\nThe only portion of its body that was, indeed, flesh, was its eye, and behind that eye, a shriveled brain, which Tabby struck with her dagger. Odd. There were no arteries or method to bring circulation to the gray-matter, clearly formed of a soft-tissue much unlike the wooden skull that encompassed it. How it could continue existing in a wetted, thinking, and live state, despite such hindrances, was a true mystery, and perhaps a defiance of all earthly anatomy.\n_ _\n\nTabby could still catch the faintest of whiffs of Gaige's scent, still drifting throughout the surrounding forest atmosphere. She could pursue it — further in the direction that she originally sprinted, and quite close, too. The scent grew stronger and stronger as she kept treading forwards, further into the forest...\n\n...\n\nUntil,\nNothing.\n\nThe scent was thick, densely accumulated at one point in the forest, about twenty-second's dash forwards from the place of her combat with the Desecrated beast. Yes, definitely, due to the weight of the scent, he was here — and Very Recently. Yet, beyond that... There was nothing. The scent didn't travel in any particular direction, and instead simply lingered in that one spot. It was as if he Vanished.\n\n...How odd.\n\nAt the very least, Tabby had one thing to follow — peeking from between the forest-roof above, there seemed to be a Greattower, overgrown with blue roots, Some distance in a direction that she, somehow, absolutely Knew Was north." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "Josh began to run towards Tabby's direction, waving his arms ever so slightly instead of yelling as to not attract any unwanted attention." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Tabby, completely not paying attention to whatever bird-thing was gliding above her, casts Ashardalon's Stride At 4th level, immediately zipping REAL fast outta there, evidently not really interesting in staying to chat. Her defender quickly retreats back into its Bag of Holding Home, which is Lightning Lure'd towards the cat through what appears to be a tractor beam from her gauntlet alongside her dagger & whatnot. Time to see what this whole tower ordeal is. Northwards the cat rushes at astonishing speed, once again leaving Shade & Josh in the dust as she runs Even faster Than when she was chasing Gaige, by about 10 ft extra per hour, meaning she is about the speed of the average car on the street, zipping and zooming along. For this cat is independent. \n\nTabby mentally tries to compute where exactly the fuck Gaige went as she ducks, weaves and leaps over the roots of the trees, bushes, and what-have-you through her Rocky Road Ability, preventing such things from being Difficult Terrain, and thus Not Slowing her down. Of course, if people were to give chase, there's nothing a bit of back-and-forth can't solve, she reminds herself upon looking down at her gauntlet, which now held the items that she had Lure'd previously. \n\nShe runs __Away__ from the tower, attempting to lure Josh and Shade off her trail as she moves at incredible speed — her unusually high Stealth Modifier coming in handy at a lovely +8 As she ducks into a bush out of sight, casting Invisibility On herself and becoming completely unviewable — everything on her person vanishing with her as per the effects of the spell as an electrically-charged magic field prevents her from being perceived. No doubt, this would have been useful fighting the Desecrated, but should she have Attacked One, the device would have instantaneously failed and revealed her location. No, instead Tabby opts to play the long game. This cat doesn't need help. Or, want it, really." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"...Okay, again, we're by ourselves\"\n\n\"You know I told them not to split up. This is a situation in which we could easily get killed off, and yet all of them are running in different directions like it's a Scooby Doo episode.\" Josh said, as he sighed.\n\n\"Shade, since nobody else wants to act normal around here, let's do what they're doing. Do you know where I'm going with this, Shade?\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"I have no damn clue..\" Shade responded, confused." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"...I can't say it out loud, just give me a second..\"" }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Tabby makes her way back to the tower, still in complete stealth mode with Invisibility On, looking up at it and trying to judge how best to tackle this new obstacle. If it's an easy to scale tower, she could climb it.. She's good at climbing.\n\nHm. Best to see if there's a door at the bottom or an open window higher up so that I could get in without alerting much to my presence..." }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "Josh proceeded to remove the VARET and RASWLT, setting them down and turning his hand into a screwdriver, and begin prying open a panel on the VARET." }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"J-Josh, what the HELL are you doing?!\"" }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"Shh, lemme just... Aha!\" Josh said, removing the panel successfully. Josh then proceeded to look inside the mechanisms of the VARET, searching for any form of chip used for location tracking.\n\n\"Shade, this thing is meant to get us in and out of the Vektet, right? Well, I'm thinking that it may also track our location, and if it does, I can't pull off something I want to do..\"\n\n\"Huh... I don't see anything..\" Josh said, simply deciding to turn off the device from the inside.\n\nJosh then moved over to the Raswalt, the ear piece-shaped device with eye contacts connected to them. \"This one is smaller, so I'll have to be extra careful in disabling it. Also, before you even ask Shade, I know that we need this thing to communicate with the denizens of the Vektet, that's why I'm going to alter the device a bit so that I can disable it at will. Even if neither of these contain any form of tracking devices, I want to be safe.\"\n\nJosh, after working on the Raswalt, finally finished and re-attached the panels to both of them.\n\n\"Now that they're disabled, if there is tracking devices installed on these, they won't be active. Of course, they'll probably notice the tracker turned off so we now have a limited timeframe here.\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "Shade was absolutely baffled. \"..Why? Why do you do shit like this, Josh? What's your goal here, dumbass?\"" }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"My goal, is simple. Now that we have both of these temporarily disabled, WE can go off on our own and see if we can find anything that can help fix the TPD. Essentially, I want to know what caused the Vektet to appear here, and take it for myself.\"\n\n\"If this works, we can help a lot of people, Shade, even if we are breaking a lot of rules.\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"So, you just want to upgrade the TPD so you can move everybody out of this timeline? You do realize that if we go to a nearby timeline it's just going to get pulled back here eventually, right?\"" }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"That's the thing, if I'm right, we can find something to go Farther. Now come on, Let's move.\" Josh said, turning his legs into pistons yet again and propelling himself into the air, looking for a way out." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Following the gargantuan tower of the root-grown structure off in the distance — which seemed to lead to the very sky of the Floor, itself — Tabby would take notice that the forest was Thinning in density, Granting her greater sight of her surroundings. The thickness of the forest relieved, she could get a glance at what appeared to be a Village, off in the distance.\n\nWere she to continue forwards, she would find herself within the Where she went, from here, would be up to her..." } ]	50	2,368
42.666667	2022-04-29	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Josh", "message": "Josh had been travelling through the air for a while, attempting to find some sort of exit, until eventually, he had saw the forest thinning, expanding into a village.\n\n\"Shade, look! It's a village with crappy infrastructure, which on one hand means that we probably won't find anything significant technology wise here, But We may be able to ask around.\"" }, { "author": "Shade", "message": "\"Alright, but you'll have to re-enable the RASWALT, right?\"" }, { "author": "Josh", "message": "\"Yeah, I will, but it's fine for now.\" Josh said, diving down into the village head first, quickly forming into a parachute-like shape before landing." } ]	33	128
1,304.666667	2022-05-01	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "After a prolonged session of exploration, Gaige had been left with a multitude of findings in his trek throughout the root-corrupted forest.\n\nInitially being positioned within the general proximity of Roqaa-Che's shed, Gaige found himself entrapped within the dense forest of azure corruption, with trees being more akin to the almost spectral nature of the ghostly, blue-glowing root, lacking the distinct brown-and-greens that Gaige was once familiar with. The azure forest sprawled for tens of meters on end, each individual tree interconnected by meticulous arrangements of the blue root at their trunks — as if the root had been Purposefully grafted Into the surrounding biome. Burrowing deep in-and-between the roots of the silver-barked trees, the blue root appeared initially to possess a parasitic link to the surrounding flora; however, upon closer analysis, it appeared more Symbiotic Than anything else. The trees towered at heights growing much farther beyond the trees he had seen in the forest earlier, and possessed a more vigorous, hardened exterior shell, as if reinforced by the presence of the blue root.\n\nPerhaps it was not so dangerously poisonous as he had first thought. Che, a human, seemed to coexist peacefully with the so-called Divine Root, and so too did this forest of azure 'corruption'.\n\nThe azure forest did not last long, however. After traversing about thirty-five meters beyond Che's shed, and piercing a boundary formed by the incredibly dense presence of trees via careful, calculated maneuvers, Gaige would oncemore find himself within the midst of the normal — or, at the very least, relatively normal — forest, of a more traditional and smoggy nature. The strange, auric, cold atmosphere of the azure forest was replaced by a humid, mildew-y and generally dirty smelling forest. While the almost frightening chill of the azure forest wasn't exactly pleasant, neither was the dense atmosphere of the typical forest, either...\n\n`[...]`\n_ _\n\nExtensive exploration of the forest would, again, reveal a multitude of interesting facets of its nature. Che's lesson came... Somewhat In handy, allowing Gaige to, very vaguely, catch sight and recognize the nature of the forest's unique flora. Despite the bountiful knowledge the Root-Tender had imparted unto Gaige, it would be no easy feat to recognize each and every single valuable herb that Che mentioned. Especially The poisonous root utilized to craft the Desecrated-slaying herbal venom. Overconfidence is, indeed, a slow and insidious killer.\n\nGrowing more and more familiar with his surroundings, Gaige would likely swiftly come to a conclusion — he was Far, far from where he had initially started. After being transported in a blue flash by the Root-Keeper's magic, he found himself in an entirely foreign region of the forest (though he'd have a tough time recognizing any landmarks in the first place), and would rapidly come to the conclusion, upon seeing the figure of the Embrace of Sol Beyond the forest roof, that he had Swapped sides within the forest. Initially he had gone far East, But now he found himself far West Of the tower. It wouldn't be much of a setback, yet was something to note nonetheless.\n\nNo notable clues up until this point about the nature of the Heir had been found. Yet, progressing deeper throughout the forest, Gaige would catch the glimpse of something vaguely Manmade; And, upon further approach, the structure would be revealed to be that of a decrepit, seemingly-abandoned Church, Quite small — being no larger than about the average house — constructed out of what appeared to be the same cobblestone that the Wall about the Embrace of Sol Was construed of. The strange presence of Danger, Evident only to one as battle-hardened as the hero Gaige, clung to the rugged figure of the church. He'd ought to watch his step...\n\nRemind yourself that overconfidence is a slow, and insidious killer." }, { "author": "Gaige", "message": "The hero sped through the azure forest, still avoiding the spreading corruption out of caution, despite Che's apparent bond with it. He had no interest in becoming what the root-tender was, therefore he continued his evasion of the root. The root appeared to be a sort of nourishment to the flora, but as shown by the Desecrated... It can be harmful to living creatures. His cloak waved in the vortex of wind that trailed his movements, his speed now beginning to top even 60 mph. It was as if the very gale itself was being commanded by the hero. As he reached the divide that separated the root-infested forest from the traditional forest, he paused in his sprint. The hero took note of the sharp partition between the two forests, his once 60 mph sprint lowering to a 20 mph dash.\n\nAs he darted about the forest, he stopped every so often, harvesting various herbs that Che had described to him. _Unfortunately..._ Che's lesson was given at such a speed that Gaige wasn't able to memorize everything the root-tender had said. Luckily, he was able to discern what was safe to eat, and what wasn't. Luckily—despite Che's speedy teachings—he was able to acquire a _small_ amount of the poisonous root; a majority of the root was located in areas that Gaige would never think to look, but some of it was perceptible by the hero. Of course—his exploration of the forest didn't go _unimpeded._\n\nSWOOSH\n\nSWISH\n\nCHKKK\n\nDesecrated that stood in his path fell to the ground in mere seconds, the second iteration of _Okaarum_ moving throughout their bodies as if it were needle and thread. By now, over ten of the beasts had met their end against the renowned hero, Gaige barely having broken a sweat against the mindless creatures. Eventually however, the constant bother that was the Desecrated began to grow tiring. Trying to eat in peace had become a nigh impossible task, the beasts stalking him from the trees at every moment. He had learned a possible counter to the beasts throughout his time in the forest however. How exactly were they tracking him? Smell could be a possibility, but what if it was _sound?_ Focusing his telekinesis, Gaige lightened himself using it by applying a weak upwards force upon himself. His footsteps mimicked that of a trained assassin—that of a mouse even. The Desecrated still continued their hunt of the man for a while, but eventually... _they had stopped appearing._\n\nWith a smirk, his genius plan had worked, the Desecrated no longer having a way of trailing him it seemed. Finally was he able to eat in peace, not having to worry about a Desecrated ambushing him as he crunched down on a less than delectable herb.\n\n_ _\nThe man halted his dash, slowing down to a walk as he prepared to stop for another food break. Something was strange though, the hero gazing up towards the Embrace of Sol through the foliage of the trees. The ever-so slight difference in construction gave away the anomaly: _was he on the other side of the tower?_ This would mean he was on the complete opposite side of the forest from where he had first entered. He sighed at this realization, taking a seat on a nearby log as he reached into his satchel and removed an olive green root. Biting into it, he reflected on his progress so far. _`Nothing still... Maybe the Heir really isn't here. If that's true, I'd be surprised if the Heir was inside the village. She must be in a pretty damn good hiding place if Ukue was willing to leave her in a run-down village like that.`_ He had taken note of the shameful looking village from the view he had had at the top of the tower. He shut his eyes, tired of seeing the same, damp and dreary scenery that was the forest. Upon opening them though, _something stood out in the distance._\n\nHe quickly stood up from his seated position atop the log, squinting his eyes at the structure which stood out like a sore thumb from the foliage of the forest that he had grown accustomed to. Hastily, he grabbed his satchel and the broken blade, taking off with an incredible burst of speed towards the structure. Slowing down into a full stop at around five meters away from the entrance, he immediately felt the diabolical aura that was _danger._ He stared at the church-looking building with a blank expression upon his face, waiting to see any movement, yet nothing moved. Gaige wasn't one to make complicated plans outside of battle however, beginning his approach towards the entrance of the church.\n\n\"_Okaarum,_ come to me.\" The legendary weapon manifested within his hand as the second iteration, Gaige entering the church through the front entrance.\n\nAs Gaige neared the door, his eyes glanced every direction—up, left, right, and _even down._ Unfortunately, his alertness did not account for a _trap,_ a weapon of nefarious nature. The arcane humming resonated throughout the forest surrounding the church, Gaige's head snapping down to face the trap below him. An immense amount of mana surged at Gaige's feet, the hero pushing off his right leg with inhuman might.\n\n*```diff\n- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ```\n\n```diff\nCrimson stained the ground as the hero bounced back with all his might.```\n\n```diff\n- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ```\n\n\"Gghk...!\" The hero grimaced as he tumbled back against the ground, a trail of blood following his retreat. He recovered to a seated position with haste, staring down at his right leg—the source of the sanguine fluid. Despite the hero's inhuman reactions, his right foot had been mangled by the blast.* He gritted his teeth together, grinding them back and forth. Desecrated were sure to be on their way from the sound of the blast, but the hero did not seem worried. With a pained expression, The brand that rested upon the back of his neck began to let off a radiant glow.\n\nIt was as if time had begun to rewind, his mangled foot starting to twist and bend in a grotesque manner.\n\nCRKKKK...\n\nVarious pops and cracks reverberated throughout the nearby forest, Gaige's pained expression worsening... Before a breath of relief. Opening his eyes, the hero gazed down at his foot. His foot had been repaired through the power of the Order's prophet. Although, the process took almost a full two minutes, Gaige neglecting his prophet abilities over the years. Ardrold—the former prophet—likely could heal his injuries in mere seconds. The hero stood back up, stretching out his now repaired foot. Oddly enough, his boot had been replenished as well.\n\n_ _\n\"Bastard...\" He mumbled under his breath at the usage of traps. He approached the church once again, staying back from the entrance as he pondered solutions. An epiphany struck him eventually, Gaige speaking, \"_Okaarum,_ return.\" The first iteration of _Okaarum_ was called upon. The hero approached where the first arcane trap had activated, dropping the bone pillar down with a Thud. Using telekinesis, he then began to roll the dragon bone pillar down the interior of the church from safety. In theory, the indestructible relic would activate any remaining traps inside the church, allowing Gaige to enter without worry. To prevent the bone from flying back at him, a downwards force was applied to it as well. It'd be best to do this quickly in order to avoid having to deal with more Desecrated, albeit them being only mere annoyances." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Having recuperated from the damage inflicted by the sudden and unseen arcane trap — which hadn't a mundane and visible presence nor even an arcane presence, instead being entirely invisible to any form of sense until it had been triggered — Gaige would now be granted with the understanding of the origins of the potent sensation of Danger. This church, from top-to-bottom, was rigged with similar types of traps, each waiting to unload upon an unwary intruder the moment they attempted to step foot in its boundaries. How odd. Despite being apparently abandoned, it appeared that whoever was here last really, Really Did not want someone coming in after them...\n\nNow with a formulated plan, Gaige sent Okaarum into the midst of the church. As it rolled across the floor...\n\n*```fix\n𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌\n 𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌\n 𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌\n 𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐌....```\n\n_ _\n\nAn echo of that similar hum — the accruing of extreme amounts of arcane energy, as several traps were simultaneously triggered, reverberating throughout the interior of the church. From the broken doorway, Gaige could see the brilliant flash of several yellow lights, the forms of arcane traps — spear-like spikes, upwards-slashing arcs of energy, and outright magical detonations of flames — erupt forth from the figure of runes arrayed across the cragged floor, a dazzling display of compacted magical prowess in the form of dozens of miracle-based traps, harshly striking against the indestructible exterior form of Okaarum.\n\nMana-based blades clatter, and detonations rumble the ground, kicking up dust, sparks, and flames throughout the interior of the church, obscuring Gaige's view inwards in a haze. As time passes, however, the obfuscation clears, the traps quiet, and it seems the way is clear...\n\nWere he to enter,* He would be greeted with the rather plain interior of the house-size stone church, abandoned, decrepit, and without anything of any value or interest. There seemed to be a place for one to pray positioned at the far-end of the church, however — there were the Massive Impressions in the floor, depicting the place-of-contact of a prostrated person's legs and hands on the stone floor, bowed before an image inscribed into the wall, seemingly representing the image of the Sun. A damaged tablet of stone is positioned on the ground just behind the place of prayer, with a rather vague inscription upon its surface:\n_ _\n\n```fix\n𝑴𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏\n𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏\n𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆.\n\n𝑺𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓\n𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏\n𝑻𝒐 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍, 𝒆𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚\n𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒖𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.```\n\nSo it reads.\n\nWere Gaige to analyze the interior of the church further, he would notice that, Above him, There seemed to be the destroyed, wooden flooring of what was once a Second floor. Mostly torn apart, some chunks of the second floor still remained suspended above him, supporting what seemed to be a Discreet cove; A stowaway which was positioned about three meters above him, furnished with a single table and chair, and two bookshelves alongside the aforementioned furniture. The bookshelves were mostly empty, save for a few, shoddy, leather-bound books, filled with dirty notes." } ]	1,392	3,914
192	2022-04-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "The plaza of the Exile's Watch. Home to most of the village's events... And mishaps.\n\nIt seemed Kuouo had stumbled upon the location at a fortunate — or perhaps unfortunate, depending on how you look at it — time, a time in which it was rife with people. Each were residents of the Exile's Watch, and by extension, thus must all be exiles themselves. While the residents of the Exile's Watch weren't known for needless aggression, he'd have to stay on his guard, nonetheless.\n\n*`THUMP. THUMP!! THWACK. THWACK. SLAM.`\n\n...Was that the sound of a fight...? No, it was...\n\n`THWACK. THWACK. THUMP!`" }, { "author": "Qaarrorroq", "message": "\"Ahh! Ahh! Oough...! Hahaha... Haha...!\"\n\n`THWACK. THWACK... THUMP.`\n\n...The sound of someone being mercilessly beaten.\n\n\"That's right! Ackh!* Agh...! Ugh...! Hehehe...!\"\n\"Qarrorroq never falters, never fails! A-hehe... H—Ughk..\"\n\n`THWACK.`\n\nThe shoe collides with his chest again, forcing air from his lungs. He laughed in an almost maniacal fashion, continuing to speak in his deranged manner of speak, spouting his drivel in a pained, high-pitched, delirious tone of voice. Despite the fact that he was being beaten senselss, he continued to laugh, and he continued to speak, blood drooling from his broken nose and down his pale, weathered old skin.\n\n\"I Knooooow* The truth, I know it. Qarroroq's mind remembers things no other can! Qarroroq's mind is invincible...! A-hee-ha...—CGHK!\"\n\n—he is finally choked of words, as he is struck in the groin." }, { "author": "Toke", "message": "The blonde-haired woman, blue of eyes, and dressed in fine garb — though it was worn, tattered, and slightly dirtied at the hems, quite used over numerous years — stared down at the form of the beastly, elderly man, her shoe digging into his body as she continued to kick, and kick. Her eyes were lacking of empathy, as if utterly disgusted with his form and speak, as she only—\n\n*`THUD. THWACK!`\n\n—kicked again, and again, and again. \n\n```diff\n- \"What a vile wretch you are.\"\n- \"Such a boorish manner of speech, and artlessly laced with the sentiments of a heretic.\"\n- \"Bite your tongue and die, you aged old swine.\"```\n\nHer speech was elegant, yet stinging like a scorpion, and full of acidic poison.\n\n`THWACK.`" }, { "author": "Qaarrorroq", "message": "Unluckily for Kuouo, the man victim of the beating raises his eyes to the new arrival, and grins in a manner most describable as Insane.* His grin was filled with ebullience, as if sent into a state of ecstasy upon setting his eyes on a new arrival... It was most worryingly genuine, and perhaps partially revolting.\n\n\"Qarrorroq is never wrong...! Never wrong! A hero, from beyond the Gate! An outsider! Hahaha...!\"\n\"Just like Qarrorroq said... Just like he said... The visions spoke, they spoke... An outsider would reveal the Thorn-Crown, and prove that he is—\"" }, { "author": "Toke", "message": "*`THWACK. THUMP. THUMP. THUD. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.`\n\nShe kicked and kicked, ignoring entirely his speech about the so-called 'new arrival'. In all honestly, she couldn't care less; that which truly garnered her loathing was the decrepit old man's latter words... About the nature of the Thorn-King.\n\n```diff\n- \"Still your tongue, heretic.\"```" }, { "author": "Kuekat", "message": "`\"Oh, my. My oh my. What a scene, hm? So violent, isn't she... And the old man Qarrorroq noticed you right away. Oh my, oh my, indeed.\"`\n\nA voice spoke out, a strange man approaching Kuouo. Standing at a most outlandish height of 218cm, the man's eyes were of a pure black, irises, whites, and all, his skin of a strangely-shriveled and grayish appearance. A slight, sly smile was upon his face as he continued to speak to the outsider, Kuouo, his arms folded behind his back.\n\n`\"My, my. I mean no insult, but you certainly do stick out like a sore thumb. How very problematic for you, hmmm? Ahhh, but I have just the thing that could help an outsider like yourself... Oh, maybe you're interested? It's nothing special, but it's quite effective...\"`\n\nKuekat extended his arms outwards, invitingly. He had a most peculiar demeanor... It seemed as though he was attempting to Appear* Polite, yet there was clearly some sort of deeper intent behind his actions.\n\n`\"You see, I happen to sell cloaks at my shop...\"`\n\n...There it was. The hook.\n\n`\"...But for an impressive person like yourself, I could give you one, at no cost... You'd just have to come pay it a visit... Sounds like a good deal, hmmm?\"`" } ]	175.5	1,152
494	2022-04-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo entered the plaza, worried not that his caprine-self would attract the attention of the gaggle of people but rather the clothes he slipped on this morning. He turned his head to the left and shifted his eyes to the right, not seeing a single person wearing a casual tanktop...\n\n``Oh, but there's an old dude gettin' his ass beat.``\n\nThe curious bandit steps up, brushing past the oddly miniscule crowd and easily getting front row tickets to the menacing girl kicking the Shit Out of this destitute geezer. Kuo's eye twitches, unsettled by the old man's deranged laughter as the blonde-haired chick punted his diaphragm.\n\n```Yeesh, why is he laughin' though. He's either crazy or this is the most perverted case o' exhibitionism I'd ever seen. Damn ugly ba-```\n\nKuouo winced as she jolted her shoe into the man's groin with bitter coldness, backtracking his second-to-initial thought. Kuo took a half-step back, about to leave the geriatric man to his woes before having the misfortune of locking eye contact with the man. He cringed, unsettled by the man's ear-to-ear grin and unbreaking stare.\n\n```fix\nI-```\n\n*``Phoock! Thump! Thud! . . . . .``\n\nThe bandit held back from speaking, figuring it was probably the best course of action. After all, having this aggressive woman kick at him and starting a whole 'nother fight will definitely drag the bandit into more unwanted attention. But what was it about this 'Root Crown'* He spoke of? Kuouo surely remembered it being mentioned by Kovrot and Aatkei — The former demanding they turn the 'intruder' in to them.\n\n```... And here I am, being told by this maniac that I'm supposed to unveil somethin' about them. Daheh, sorry pal. I doubt yer delusions have any substance to 'em.```\n\nA voice pulled Kuouo out of his inner-monologue, approaching him with a strange, cryptic demeanor. The goat looks up at the man, standing roughly a foot taller than him, listening to what he had to offer.\n\n```fix\n\"If you've got somethin' to help me blend in, then I'm all ears. If more people notice me like this Qarrorroq guy, then I'm in for... Well, I guess it ain't much trouble. But the attention is kinda annoyin'.```\n\nThe businessman bloomed his arms outwards, furthering his attempt to entice Kuo with...\n\n``The Art of the Deal.``\n\n```fix\n\"Cloaks?... That's real easy t' conceal yerself with, huh? And you said it's at no cost — Free!? It's jus' t o o good of a deal. What's the catch? Surely in a junky town such as 'is, yer gonna want somethin' whether it be material 'r not.\"```" }, { "author": "Kuekat", "message": "`\"Oohh, no, there is no catch. Honest. I'm a straightforwards business-man. You could consider it... An investment, hmm?\"`\n\nThe strange-seeming merchant persisted in his widened, shrewd smile, clasping his hands behind his back oncemore, slowly pacing away from Kuouo and back towards one of the large shopping-stalls that encircled the plaza. Inviting Kuouo to follow after him — with the lure of a Free Cloak — Kuekat stepped into his stall, stretching out his arms as to grandiosely reveal his wide selection of goods. \n\nThe stall's goods were... Strange, to say the least. Not the type that Kuouo would be familiar with, in any sort of bazaar. It seemed that the people of the Exile's Watch had a very different sense of value in objects, and such peculiarities between different cultures would be openly demonstrated within the merchant's stall. Bottles, akin to wine-bottles, though not as thoroughly corked-and-sealed in the same nature, lined shelves within the stall, filled with what seemed to be... Dirty... Water? Tea, perhaps? Or some strange sort of brew? Each appeared odd, some had slightly different colors than others, yet they all had a characteristic, brownish hue that simply made them look like they were chalk-full of muddy water. \n\nHow odd, how odd indeed. Aside from the bottles, however, there were other items that actually appeared to Kuouo to be practical goods: trinkets, baubles, and the like, decorated antlers that twisted in odd shapes and directions, as well as cloaks, hoods, and gloves — much more apt a selection of items for someone like Kuouo to use.\n_ _" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo raised an eyebrow, skeptical of the man's wording but nevertheless interested in what he might have to offer. Plus, a Free cloak Is a Free cloak, No matter what else the guy had to sell. Kuo backed away from the center of attention and entered the man's stall to inspect his additional wares. He glanced at the unlabeled bottles, mostly uninterested due to the faint must of the liquid that dried on the neck of the bottle. His eyes rolled over towards the next selection, finding little attraction as well in the trinkets laid neatly on the shelf beside him.\n\n```Maybe if I were on vacation??? Angel above dude, this place sucks more than the time Ruby held her marriage in that Timbuktu of a state that was Alabama. Seriously, at least pawn shops have cool anime dvds and old Playstations.```\n\nKuouo lightly grunted to himself, moving on to the line-up of cloaks, hoods, and gloves. If the bandit were to blend in, he could definitely use the full set. Its usage could be used far beyond the village and aid the thief in stealth if needed. After the businessman finishes his performative inspection of the cloak, Kuouo immediately snatched the cloak, donning it with haste (Now mirroring a Verdant Thief in another place, another time).\n\n```This guy really wants some of my bidness, eh? He's almost right 'bout me bein' completely broke jus' from readin' my face... Dude's got somethin' slick about 'em, and I'm sure he knows I know...```\n\nKuouo smiled, a simple ``'heh'`` painting a wall of confidence around him. He sharply stares at the strange man, reaching into his left pocket but not taking his hand out.\n\n```fix\n\"Yer wrong. I've got one thing worth everything I'm 'bout to request. That bein' the rest of this set and some information. For yer kindness, I'd like t' repay ya with a deal of my own. Sounds fair, right?\"```\n\nThe bandit finally took his paw out of his pocket, taking a Shiny gold coin Out and holding it up to his eye. He continued his song and dance, bringing it closer to his eye before bringing it up to his mouth and chomping down on it. It was real alright.\n\n```fix\n\"Where I'm from, this ittie-bittie thing could getcha wares like the ones hung up here made outta s i l k . Strong armor, blades — Hell, forget about armor and shit. This single coin is worth enough t' feed a hundred-man feast!\"```\n\nThat went on in kuos head\n\n```We'll see how it feels havin' yer own game played on you geezer, daheheheh... If all else fails, I could just knock the guy square in the jaw. Not like anybody's gonna fuckin' stop me, daheh!\"```\n\nHe thought, mentally referring to the old man getting girlbossed on in the middle of the street." }, { "author": "Kuekat", "message": "`\"You see... Gold isn't all too valuable for us, in the Ark... Ah, it may not be all too familiar to someone like yourself, but the Third Floor exports the metal en-masse...\"`\n\nHe gave another slight, disappointed 'hm', lifting the 'golden' dagger to the light...\n\n...Though, Kuouo, a bandit, and one thoroughly familiar with gold, would likely notice something a bit Off About the dagger. It was gold — Nordic gold, that was.\n\n`\"Ah, but I did call myself a most generous person, didn't I? Now, I couldn't just turn away a customer like yourself, who is quite well in need of some extra equipment...\"`\n\nHe slowly lowered the dagger from sight, placing it back on its respective shelf, before oncemore returning to Kuouo to barter.\n\n`\"Such a small amount of gold would have... Little-to-no value, around these parts. But, if, say, you had about. . .`\n\nHe stared at the coin, apparently calculating how many of them it would actually take to be of the equipment's value. Though, at this point, to someone familiar with the *`art of the deal`, it'd be quite apparent that the merchant was simply attempting to gauge how much he could realistically gouge him for.\n\n`\"...Say, thirty of those coins, I could make an exception... That might just be able to meet the typical market value of the set. But, I aaam a most forgiving merchant, after all. What say you to a greatly-discounted... Twenty, of those coins, hm?\"`\n\nHis sly grin returned, and he clasped his hands together, waiting expectantly for Kuouo's response." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuo adjusted the cloak around his collarbone, seemingly understanding of the differences in their world economies. As the slick salesman forced out a sigh, the bandit plastered on a facade of dejection, slightly shifting his body to indicate he wanted out the door. That is, until a certain treasure was pulled out from his drawer of trinkets...\n\n```fix\n\"A golden dagger!? I see, so gold must be in abundance in this world... That's a shame, I thought my offer would hold weight.```\n\nHold weight indeed... Indeed, the bandit was all too familiar with the material. Whether it be handling the day-to-day spoils of his dirty work in the Underground or paying his tab at Flambo's, Kuouo knew with the way Kuekat weaved the dagger in his wrist, it's weightless, was key to the ruse he was playing. While yes, it was true that the goat didn't know the true value of the material on the Vetket, that stunt the merchant pulled was a dead giveaway.\n\n```fix\n\"Sorry pal, looks like this ain't the place for me. Best I could probably do is scrounge up another two or three more Gold — And three's if I look real hard. I jus' figured, what with this place bein' filled with b r a n d e d e x i l e s and the like, somethin' as luxurious as gold wouldn't come up too often. Oh well, guess I oughta find some second rate clothes and word o' mouth some place else.```\n\nThe goat turned around, flaunting his cloak and brushing it back. He took a single step away from the stall Seemingly* With no intent to continue the transaction any longer. It was a gamble; two or three gold pieces was a far cry from what he would've gotten scammed with but without knowing the true value of gold in the Vetket, there was the possibility it really Did Amount to nothing.\n\nOnly Kuekat's next move would tell." } ]	424	2,470
560.142857	2022-04-27	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Yellow-Eyed Vaazva", "message": "Before Kuouo could deposit the gold atop the counter, something — no, Someone, Caught his arm. A gloved hand clasped Kuouo's arm, stopping him from depositing the gold on the counter. Someone had snuck up behind him without giving off even the faintest hint of a sound, presence, or aura.\n\n```fix\n\"𝙽𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛'𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎 '𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝙺𝚞𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚝.\"```\n\nA peering, yellow light came from beyond the mysterious man's mask, its faint glow beaming with a sharp, piercing gaze. A characteristic of his namesake, and perhaps the reason the merchant appeared so alarmed:\n\n__`The golden glare of Yellow-Eyed Vaazva.`__\n\n```fix\n\"𝙴𝚑, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?\"\n\"𝙸 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚊, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚔-𝚘' 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚒𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎.\"```\n_ _\n\nThe strange man, Vaazva, released Kuouo's arm. Were he to turn to view his figure, he would be met with the sight of a man donning a strange, black, robe-like garb, decorated with what appeared to be trinkets of Pure gold, As well as what appeared to be an almost wooden... Ivory? Rings of a dark-grained wood, as well as silver and gold, were wrapped about his right and left digits, some with up to even three rings about them in total, and similarly valued bracelets of standoutish nature hung from each of his wrists.\n\n The man's very presence was commanding, yet nonaggressive, his posture slunk in a slightly-backwards lean that exuded an essence of gloating confidence. Unlike many of the others within the Vektet up until now, however, he was not as ridiculously towering as the individuals Kuouo had encountered before. Rather, he stood at a similar and slightly shorter height to Kuouo, himself, at what could roughly be estimated to be ~181 cm. Nonetheless, from the Chilling, yellow glow From beyond his mask to the borderline-terrified response he had garnered from Kuekat, it was clear that the masked man was a sort of big-shot, at least within the Exile's Watch." }, { "author": "Kuekat", "message": "`\"A-Ah! Oh my, if it isn't Vaazva... Do you have some sort of... Business, at my stall...?\"`\n\nThe merchant questioned sheepishly — almost apologetically, tightly clasping his hands together as he attempted to make his demeanor friendlier and more welcoming; almost submissive. He extended his arm outwards to greet Vaazva—" }, { "author": "Yellow-Eyed Vaazva", "message": "He backhands the arm extending towards him.\n\n```fix\n\"𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍𝚜, 𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛'𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎 '𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝙺𝚞𝚎𝚔𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚘' 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚔𝚎-𝚝𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚋 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚕? 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 '𝚝𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚗' 𝚛𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-'𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗' 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.\"\n\n\"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕 '𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏-𝚊-𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝-'𝚏 𝚝𝚊𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚒? 𝙸'𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗.\"```\n\nThe man spoke, reaching into his robelike garb to withdraw a strange, red pellet, with a pungent citrus-y scent that could be smelled from the moment he withdrew it. Resting it atop his left hand's palm, he clicks his right hand's fingers, and the pellet is spontaneously split in two. Context-clues would clearly suggest that the small, pill-sized red pellet was the so-called 'taarei' Kuouo had heard of several times up until now, and the purported form of currency within the Exile's Watch." }, { "author": "Kuekat", "message": "Kuekat grimaced as he was interrupted, shakily withdrawing his hand and nodding in agreement with Kuekat. Up until he brought up the matter of currency, that was.\n\n`\"H-Half a pellet? The cloak itself is worth atleast two—\"`" }, { "author": "Yellow-Eyed Vaazva", "message": "```fix\n\"𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗. 𝙺𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚢𝚊'𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.\"```\n\nHe clicked his fingers again, and the pellet was split into fourths. He placed a single quarter of the pellet atop the counter, pocketing the rest of the 3/4ths, before he the folded his arms. \n\n```fix\n\"𝙾𝚑, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑... 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚕' 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛-𝚊-𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚞𝚑?\"```\n\nHe spoke, his manner of speech not dissimilar to that of Aatkei. Considering his appearance, his demeanor, his way of speech, and his prevalence and authority within the Exile's Watch, it seemed quite possible that this man, Vaazva, could be the man Aatkei titled 'wenchdriver'." }, { "author": "Kuekat", "message": "The merchant looked clearly disgruntled. He put on a false smile, yet his eyes and brow were demonstrating of a clear mix of combined frustration and fear. Despite the absolutely outrageous demands that the masked man made, Kuekat silently complied, slowly reaching for the rest of the set that he had offered Kuouo — gloves and a hood — and laying each of them atop the counter. Then, leaning over, he lifted the (fake) golden dagger, placing it alongside the other two atop the counter." }, { "author": "Yellow-Eyed Vaazva", "message": "```fix\n\"𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗! 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-'𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 '𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.\"```\n\nThe yellow, peering glare from within Vaazva's mask subsides, and the merchant gives what appears to be a breath of relief.\n\nHaving secured a fine deal for Kuouo — which he wouldn't even have to pay for, considering Vaazva gave the taarei from out of his own pockets — Vaazva turned around, swaggering several paces away from the bandit without a further word. However, once he distanced himself some from Kuouo, he turned over his shoulder, and spoke:\n\n```fix\n\"𝙴𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗' 𝚊𝚠𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝'𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗' '𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎-𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗' 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚞𝚑? 𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗' 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎-𝚘' 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.\"```\n\nVaazva tilted his masked head, gazing carefully at Kuouo. Even from beyond his mask and without their characteristic, frightening golden glow, his eyes were chilling once they had settled upon his form.\n\n```fix\n\"𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘' 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙸'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 '𝚝𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 '𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚒𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗' 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚅𝚊𝚊𝚣𝚟𝚊, 𝚞𝚑? 𝙷𝚘𝚠'𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚗-𝚍𝚎𝚣-𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚛?\"```\n\n...He spoke, almost demandingly, yet still without hostility. A yellow glow emanates from within his mask, as his eyes subtly flash alight. Turning around, without further glancing back to see if Kuouo followed after, the man paces away and across the plaza — towards one of the many buildings that encircled it." } ]	596	3,921
476.333333	2022-05-13	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Tabby arrives upon the plaza to further scout for her required vendors." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Arriving within the plaza, Tabby would be met with a most fretful realization — the Exile's Watch, perhaps predictably, is Immensely poor. Gazing left, then right, carefully analyzing each building in the plaza, it would be revealed that there was not a single advertising-sign hung on any of its many-dozen buildings, with shabby exterior architecture. There were certainly some buildings that stood out, though to spot something as specific and luxurious as something along the lines of a jeweler or a blacksmith would be quite difficult, If They even existed in the first place.\n\nStill, there was one building immediately of note. Its form was significantly larger-than-average, with a shoddy exterior, but a rather fine door at its front, seemingly made out of a most luxurious spruce. Within the plaza, the building would stick out ever-so-slightly from the norm, as if an extra degree of effort had gone into its construction, albeit only slightly. It still presented quite uncomplicated and inefficient architectural techniques, as was seen in the rest of the village, but nonetheless could be a potential location to investigate further.\n\nThe plaza, itself, is rife with a handful of market stalls — all empty, unfortunately. It seemed that something occurred within its midst some time ago that caused people to move out, for the time being. How unfortunate...\n\n...And also, rather concerningly, there seems to be the still body of an aged old man, lain out in the middle of the plaza, seemingly having sustained a disturbing beating. Blood puddled about his head, and he laid most worrisomely Motionless.\n\n Aside from the concerning figure of the collapsed man, there are no other signs of life within the plaza, save for a single, cloaked man, sat on a bench. Until—" }, { "author": "Ve", "message": "Suddenly appearing from within the plaza — as if emerging from a shaded location that was left unseen to Tabby's eyes, though she could not directly see where he came from, in the first place — a masked man, with a rather luxurious, accented coat and cloak over his shoulders, paced with a most intent step in his gait. Stood at a taller — yet not so abnormally tall, as were many of the Watch's residents — height of 193cm, the man's stature was imposing, his build slim, yet his very presence commanding and noble in appeal, his posture firm, upright, and delicate in nature.\n\nHis apparel was designed of a silky cloth, embroidered elegantly with a plethora of complexified designs utilizing golden strands of string, its coupling seams tastefully puffed and layered, as so to create an elegant and erudite appeal, if not a little pompous. At the fringes of his cloak, the cloth appeared almost gilded with the authentic resplendency of gold, yet not so conspicuously so as to brusquely flaunt his riches; it was simply present for the virtue of distinguishing him as an elegant and pure man, fluttering gracefully at his side as he rapidly progressed through the plaza. A porcelain mask lay atop his face, the man's glittering, golden eyes, which so perfectly matched the garb he donned, gleamed with a sharp gaze forth, scanning throughout the plaza, as if searching for something. The faint scent of the forest clung close to his body, as if he had earlier emerged from a deep delving throughout its midst, his white gloves ever-so-slightly dirtied by speckles and spots of dirt that had accumulated throughout his venture's course. \n_ _\n\nA blade remained sheathed firmly at his right hip, its handle constructed of a pearly-white material, whereas its crossguard was constructed of a brasslike metal with golden accents. The holster, itself, seemed to be made out of a white-dyed leather of some sort, and so too was it accented by the man's ever-present theme of luxurious, yet subtle, golden metal.\n\nThe whole of the man's visage, hidden behind the mask, would reveal little of his intent and purpose within the plaza, yet the sharp gaze and way that he held himself clearly communicated something — he was Searching. In the moment that his golden eyes settled on Tabby, she could feel their inquisitive nature peer beyond her outer body and briefly into her very nature, and yet the man seemed to swiftly divert his attention from her, his apparent search unsatisfied by his observation of her Alone.\n\n```fix\n\"Hmm... There's one...\"```\n\n...He whispered, his gaze shifting towards the man on the bench, and he raised a hand to his chin, his curiosity piqued. He would gaze briefly back at Tabby, tilting his head, his gaze briefly sharpening, as if confirming something. Upon confirming whatever that Something Was, he would give her no more discourtesy of staring so strangely at the stranger, bowing lightly, before pacing straight forwards — toward the tabaxi, as so he could make introduction.\n\n```fix\n\"Forgive me if I interrupt your business,\"```\n\nHe spoke, his elegant tone amplified to declare his presence to the artificer,\n\n```fix\n\"But I am in need of some direction.\"\n\"I am a stranger in these lands, and I am in search of a particular individual, whom I have recently lost contact with.\"\n\"Have you noted any... Curious activity, within the midst of this plaza?\"```\n\nThe masked man questioned, his golden eyes squinted, their gaze glimmering with a subtle, arcane resplendency." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "Ah, shit... Unless I get lucky that'll be some makeshift crafting for me. She tsks under her breath; should've come prepared, huh. Her eyes lay on the body and she holds back a bit, in a sort of 'oh, shit.' response. The cloaked man here... How very interesting that they don't seem to have a care in the world for whatever may have transpired...\n\n\nTabby's hair stands on end in response to the piercing gaze of the man, yet she makes no attempt to snuff out the whereabouts, focused entirely on both the shops and the overall surrounding of the body. Well... There IS a store around here that looks at least Ppealing... Surely,* She thinks, There must be a forge at least SOMEWHERE around here... The amount of knights and blades and armor suits tell me that much...\n\n\nThen, of course, Tabby's conspiracy-theorizing is interrupted by a white-masked man. Her Defender immediately jumps in front instinctively, getting into a defensive stance as if for some strange reason it expected the eccentric fellow to strike her then and there. The cat quickly waves her Defender away and bows her head to this seemingly kind stranger, the machine sheepishly stepping away, embarrassed by its kneejerk reaction. \"Sorry 'bout him,\" The cat apologizes swiftly, \"He has a distinct fear of masks that I haven't managed to find the time to fix..\" \n\n\nShe lifts her head back up, shaking it in response to the question posed to her. \".. No, not in the plaza - I just got here, only things I've seen are ourselves, the man who is likely dead over there, and that odd, cloaked stranger..\" She sighs, \"My partner here and I are just as new – we only found this place an hour ago at the most, and I spent most of my time in a nearby building.\" The cat intentionally keeps the details vague so to not draw any potential acknowledgement to what she Actually Was doing – or, instead, planning to.\n\n_ _\n\n\"If anything were to stick out to me at all, it would be, well..\" She motions to the corpse wordlessly, obviously not a sight someone sees every single day... Not one that brutalized indeed. The cat sniffs the air, \"... Sorry, have you been in the nearby forest? You smell acutely of wood..\"" }, { "author": "Ve", "message": "```fix\n\"Hm.\"```\n\nThe man commented, somewhat taken off guard, as he witnessed the Steel Defender startlingly shift positions. His left hand would be drawn to lift itself between him and the defender, an air of caution about him as he stared at the machination stood before him. As the matter was explained and resolved, however, the man would subtly nod, adjusting the pristine, porcelain mask rested atop his face.\n\n```fix\n\"A golem that thinks for itself. Novel.\"```\n\nHe commented, his left hand shifting along the surface of the mask and down alongside his neck, resting just above his heart. The masked-man squinted, his eyes of curiosity — yet a curiosity of caution. He carefully noted the nature of the machine before him, establishing a clear image within his mind to recall later. Everything, in this moment, was of note; he had much to memorize, and he wouldn't let a single detail escape his mind. His peering, golden eyes thoroughly scrutinized the automata's metallic form, piercing within and beyond its external shell, his inquisitorial nature surfacing as he remained silent in analysis for moments on-end.\n\nThe man lowered his left hand, using it to air his cloak which hung at his side. As Tabby further explained, the strange, inquisitive man gazed down at her, the faintly magical shimmer of his golden irises illumining the portions of his eyes overshadowed by the form of his mask. He remained silent, watching almost to an uncomfortable degree her motions and mannerisms as she spoke, his expression unseen beneath the unfeeling cream-white veneer of his mask — semblant of an ambiguous, feminine face — and would only slightly respond as she finished.\n\nThe tabaxi motioned to the limp body behind him, at the centre of the plaza. It wasn't that he didn't care to know more on the matter— it was simply he Already did. He knew whose body it was. He knew who the perpetrator of the beating was. He knew what the perpetrator's underlying motive was. And he did not care.\n_ _\n\n```fix\n\"Correct, but I am looking for a living man.\"\n\"Correct, I did emerge from the forest.```\n\nHe commented, curtly, in respond to her finishing query. Still confirming a handful of doubts, he did not appear all-too-intrigued in the matter of Responding To the artificer, but rather taking in the complexities of the information that he could glean from merely hearing and watching her speak. While initially mannerly, the man appeared to give no more effort towards looking prim or complaisant anymore; he rather seemed only to hold himself as such to open a door that otherwise may have been closed.\n\nHe slightly nodded once again, his uncomfortably-focused gaze shifting from the tabaxi toward the man sat on the bench.\n\n```fix\n\"Well. I will hold you back with questions no further.\"\n\"Lest, you have some sort of relevant information to share with me...? I am in search of a man who I have been separated from.\"\n\"He should have been in the forest some time ago. Alas, I can not seem to find him.\"```\n\nThe masked man shot a golden glare to Tabby once again, his enchanted gaze peering to the very soul.\n\n```fix\n\"Hm?\"```\n\nHe questioned; though, if Tabby were not to offer the information he somewhat urgently needed, he would depart, pacing towards the man seated on the bench." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Urmm, no...?\" She replies, hesitantly. I already answered that question! \"I haven't smelled wood on anyone else that I've laid eyes on aside from you, myself and my companion.\" She once again makes a curt motion towards the robot, who stands at attention — very aware of the man's seemingly magical gaze, yet not reporting that back to the artificer. She, of course, could feel it too, yet did not know the extent of what the magic was, due to not having Detect Magic In play. It could be any type of aura, though if she had to make a guess... Probably some sort of Abjuration On the mask itself. But, without a tool to diagnose, who's to say? Why abjuration? Well, everyone and their kit's uncle's dad seems to have abjuration going on around them.\n\nAs she prepares to part with the man, she makes an addendum to what she said previously; \"Ah - oh, that's not all correct... I was briefly with someone who exited the forest at the same time as me, but... Surely they're not who you're looking for. Last I saw of them before we went our separate ways, they were at the base of the tower\" - she points over towards The Ascent To aid exactly what she means. If he's new, he might not know already. This spurs her onto her next question. \"Do you... Have any specifics about the target you're looking for? Name? Appearance? Fur like me, or not?\" Tabby makes various motions as she speaks, actively talking with her hands. For fur she points to her long tabaxi fur, and then makes an 'x' to signify 'not'. \n\nShe is well aware that there is nothing to hide, but perhaps they might have a similar goal; finding that asshole, Gaige.\n\n_ _\nHer robot taps her on the shoulder, signifying that maybe they should go check out the shop. The gaze of this man is starting to unsettle even the unfeeling metal hulk, yet, as with before, Tabby waves him off as she awaits any possible answer that would help her pinpoint exactly what the masked fellow was looking for in their comrade? Lover? Who knows? Not Tabby." } ]	487	2,858
510.25	2022-05-14	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ve", "message": "Already beginning to pace away, the man would swiftly turn as he heard her ask for a little more detail. Well, she seemed interested at the very least, and regardless of the fact that she may not have information to readily give, she could still perhaps serve as a second set of eyes. Even despite his typical nature to work alone, basic cooperation such as this could be heavily valuable, were she willing to offer. The man, pausing in his progression towards the cloaked individual atop the bench, turned, his eyes gleaming once again towards Tabby, as he continued.\n\n```fix\n\"Hmmm...\"\n\"Well, you see — it's an odd sort of person. I... Haven't the details, entirely.\"\n\"He would carry... A rather large weapon. Perhaps much larger than his own body.\"\n\"Oh, and he would stand about yea-tall,\"```\nThe man spoke, motioning, as he lifted his hand to a height of about 178cm.\n\n```fix\n\"No fur — or so I would think — and donning of a cloak.\"```\n\nHe finished his recollection of the details he had at hand. He hadn't the whole picture of the man that he sought; he only caught a singular glimpse from beyond a smokescreen of dust and rubble, clattering forth in front of him. And, even then... He wasn't a direct eye-witness. Still, he Knew That someone was within that forest, or perhaps already mingled into the midst of the Exile's Watch, itself. \n\nWhoever he was, he must have a singular goal — finding his way to the Root-Crown. The masked man glared towards the shimmering blue tower a short-while off in the distance, pondering.\n\n```fix\n\"I'll be off.\"```\n\nThe man, upon confirming that she truly had no more information to share — lest she again interrupt his departure with something extra to say — would step forth, approaching the man on the bench." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Uhm. . . Nope, I haven't seen anyone with a weapon quite like that, I don't think... I must be off, too. Best of luck with your searches, however!\" She waves him adieu — not that it would matter seeing as the fellow had already turn away to the benched man now. How strange that this man is looking for someone he can't name, nor know the details of... Perhaps he is a bounty hunter of sorts? No... Tabby thinks that improbable as the mask would simply be too posh for any kind of bounty hunter to wear; making a likely incorrect assumption that everyone else who would potentially be affiliated with this man also would wear a similar mask. The people here are very magic-oriented... She notes, before coming to a bit of a realization.\n\nThat dead man walking has a cloak. She opens her mouth to speak once more, \"Excuse me - I've just had an epiphany.. I don't know where the man is at this moment, but... Would he possibly be black-haired?\" She thinks back on the brief encounters she had, noting that she hadn't really clocked in a height for him. Of course, that would be rather difficult even for Keen Mind With no reference point given. It is a simple stab in the dark from her, hoping she is correct.\n\n\"If not then I'm of no use — I still don't know where they would be... I had eyes on them in the forest for a brief time, but they...\" She snaps her fingers, demonstrating the blink of an eye, \"Vanished. Into thin air, leaving no scent.\"" }, { "author": "Ve", "message": "Carried forth by the momentum of his suddenly halted gait, the man's cloak briefly fluttered, as he once more locked eye contact with the woman behind him as she spoke. It seemed that he was intent on closely watching her in every moment that she spoke, as if by either requirement, or by an intense, unbroken habit. His golden eyes glimmered as he peered over his shoulder, acknowledging her words with a slight nod.\n \nThe masked man appeared intrigued by her finishing statement: a man spontaneouslyDisappeared, Or so she described. Whoever she referred to could very well be the man that the masked individual was searching for... Or, he could very well not be. Many things would make sense, however, if the man who he searched for too possessed the ability to spontaneously disappear. Such would explain how he so easily managed to evade the Desecrated beasts, and crossed such immense distances within the forest before the masked man arrived within its midst after such short notice...\n \n```fix\n\"I understand. Unfortunately, I did not catch a glimpse of the man directly. It all happened in a blur...\"```\n_ _\n\nHe spoke, his right hand set atop his porcelain mask, adjusting it, as his golden eyes continued to stare unblinkingly from between his digits. With his left hand, he aired his golden cape once again, finishing with a slight bow towards the tabaxi behind him. The information she provided, while vague, would make his search ever-so-slightly more convenient. All the information she provided appeared to be truthful in whole; his perception could validate that she hadn't told a flagrant lie. For he perceived not only the discreetness of the motions of her feline face, but so too did he see deeper — beyond, into something Within.\n \n...*`?`\n \nThe gold-clad peripatetic turned his gaze upwards, toward the empyrean form of the overgrown tower enshrined in the blue root. Off, far in the distance, and encroaching on the form of the false dim-green sky above, there was the appearance of something immensely subtle if not entirely imperceptible with the bare eye. Yet, with sight empowered by the golden arcana that imbued his irises, the man could see Something...* Something hovering, about the greattower's pinnacle. There were no Birds On the First Floor, and yet that something was Flying, Clearly spotted from even the kilometers-wide distance within his striking, golden gaze. With a squint, the man readily shifted his left hand, hidden within the cover of his cape, to the handle of the holstered blade at his right hip. The slightest notion of alarm roused within his spirit; his unseen brow furrowed beneath the feminine form of his porcelain mask.\n_ _\n\nSomething was awry.\n \nThe masked individual furled his left hand's fingers tightly about the pearly handle of the sheathed blade, his concerned, sharpened glare still set solely upon the figure of the hovering entity that lingered about the tower's upper levels. Without further a word to Tabby, the man would briefly glare back down at the man seated on the bench; he longed to question the individual to attain additional sources of information toward his goal of locating the man he had so briefly seen within the forest, yet more pressing matters had manifested before his very eyes. Regretfully, he would not be able to visually interrogate the hooded man atop the bench.\n \nWordlessly, the masked man invisibly mouthed the words of a short spell as his feet elegantly shifted into a tightened stance, elevating his body on his tiptoes. Taking a swift and steady, whistling breath from between his lips, the man closed his eyes, leaping an astounding several meters into the air. His cape, lingering behind him as he leapt, fluttered into a dynamic and incoherent mass of amorphous darkness, shrouding his form as he reached the apex of his leap; in that very moment, he disappeared within a hazy motion that eluded the eyes, engulfed in a strange, miraculous darkness that teleported him Entirely elsewhere." }, { "author": "Tabby Browncoat", "message": "\"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat...\" Is the only word that comes out of Tabby's mouth upon the sudden disappearance of her questioner. Happened in a blur.. She reminisces, Well, he IS fast, so... We might have the same target yet.\n\nWith that introduction out of the way, Tabby reflects on what exactly it was that she was doing before being taken aside and asked about that man's target. Her Defender taps her shoulder and motions towards the door of the only store that might potentially have what they need. Riiiiiight. I was switching out my gear.. She bites her lip and nods to her Defender in thanks — a motion that is entirely unnecessary of course, knowing the telepathic bond they seem to share. Well... The issue is that she actually can't do that on a whim. That's simply not possible without a long, 8 hour rest... I'm sure the churchgoer would be mad if I took THAT long, but... Hopefully there's a way to speed up the process. I wonder if channeling my Lord would help? She questions — Tabby is not a high-enough level in Cleric to do so directly, but this world doesn't act on the same fundamentals as hers did; nor does her deity.. Asking for assistance could potentially be on the table.\n\nWith her course of action sealed — a quick in-and-out, courtesy of a bit of Chronal ShiftIng, she might be able to take the quickest catnap anyone's ever seen! Right? Rrright...?\n\nRegardless, there's only one way to find out, as Tabby & her Defender step into the aforementioned building, Hoping That there's some way for her to recharge here and get back out there before the barkeep that the... Pastor(?) so badly wants dead. Tabby is an honest cat; she does not intend to go back on her word.\n\nIf all I can get done are my infusions before I have to head out, that'll... Suck, but it'll work." } ]	418	2,041
410.5	2022-06-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "`A vast, barren, and dark snowfield of eternal night, whose even little atmospheric light is snuffed by a persistent snowstorm.`\n\nThe blue light dissipates, and the group finds themselves within the midst of darkness.\n\nA dark, yet not perfectly dark, field of snow, encompassed each of those who emerged on the other side of the teleportative Ground Gate. The atmosphere was cold, yet not so terribly cold as to threaten immediate frostbite, but even what faint remnants of heat still trapped about their bodies would soon be swept away, as a Powerful, howling gust of air Whistled beyond them, carrying in its wake the frosty breath of Snow.\n\n*A blizzard.\n\nThough they were certainly in the midst of the superstructure known as the Vektet,* There was very much so Weather, And Extreme weather, At that. The air was not initially chilling to the bone, but the following gusts of powerful wind that carried thick flakes of snow would gnaw beyond their flesh and into the very cores of their body, blinding each in a flurry of elements that threatened to sever their lines-of-sight toward one another. The turbulent conditions would continue to assail them for the first twenty-seconds-or-so of their entrance, before calming, if only a little, allowing them enough comfort to gain their bearings.\n\nThe fogginess of their sightlines would depart, and in the following moments, they would be allowed the briefest of moments to acquire clear sightlines of their immediate surroundings.\n_ _\n\nFirstly, far, far in the sky above, hung the figure of something ever-recognized by those who called the nights of Earth familiar: a bluish-white orb; an astral figure; the Moon. A full moon — or, at the very least, an image Of The full moon — hung high in the sky above, so to recreate the moonlit nights of a land lost to those within the Vektet. There were no stars to accompany it, and yet its sight was unmistakable, illuminating the dark snowfield below in the moment of blue clarity.\n\nSecondly, far to the west and some distance to the north (with their immediate rear being south, for reference), was a Faint light, Glowing with a slight warmth, even within the cold of the persistent night. What it illuminated was unclear, and yet its presence was still clearly detectable.\n\nThirdly, far to the east, and some distance to the north, was a sort of Highground, atop of which was a dimly-lit, tower-shaped structure, Its form vague and nebulous, indistinct at the distance from which they viewed it. Still, as the moon overhead lit its silhouette, it certainly would stand out as a peculiarity to further investigate.\n\nFourthly, directly to the north, quite some distance from them, was a Wall.\nA gargantuan wall, which spanned from horizon-to-horizon, towering dozens of meters into the air, and interrupted only by a singular, towering gate at its center.\nAnd atop that wall, above that gate, a light glitters, as something moves, ever-subtly...\n\nFinally, and most prevalently, immediately surrounding them, in every direction—\nBodies in the dozens, claimed by the snow, each pierced through and stuck to the permafrost below by great-arrows of pure silver.\nClad in an almost golden-seeming alloy of brass, the bodies of the armored soldiers would be only familiar to Cumhall and Kuo—\n_ _\n\n__`𝙋𝙎𝘾𝙃𝙒`__\n\n—the sound of tremendous built-up force in the distance being released, in a single instance, as the glittering light from atop the wall grew brighter in intensity, as if it was closing in on them—\n\n__`𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙇𝙀...`__\n\n—the sound of a sharpened projectile, piercing the atmosphere in an alarming, high-pitched tone which cut the night apart—\n\n𝙎 𝙇 𝘼 𝙈\n\n—The sound of an impact akin to a mortarshell, slamming into the ground just ahead of them, kicking up hundreds of kilograms of snow in a single impact.\n\nAs the snow scattered about their forms, the blizzard winds picked up once again, chaotically carrying the disturbed brumal powder every-which-way, blinding all of them in a single instance. The blizzard returned in full fury, stacking one woe atop another — They were under attack, blinded, and in the midst of a blizzard. As each were separated from one another in the blindness of the snow, there were few other options but one: __*Run.__" }, { "author": "Abstral", "message": "As he stepped through the gate with the others, the cold hit Abstral quickly. \n\n```\"Maybe warn us next time, eh?\"``` Abstral said as he put the hood of his robes up. He had to use his magic to keep it up due to the strong weather in this... Room? \n\nIt was only then he noticed he couldn't see anyone else around him. He heard the loud boom second.\n\nSummoning his twin curved swords for both his protection and for the light, not bright but at least something, they shone, Abstral charged forth while calling out.\n\n```\"Hello? Fellow companions? You around anywhere?\"``` He asked as he made his way what he hoped was forwards, though he could have sworn he walked a bit Away* From the entrance to... Wherever this is, he couldn't see Where He was going after all.\n\n\n\n*He quickly picked up the pace, running forward, Northeast." }, { "author": "ROOK", "message": "As the eyes of the man adjust, he lets out a shiver; not one fit to deal with blizzards or the cold. No, that was the expertise of Tabby the tabaxi, who, unfortunately, is not around currently. Looking around, The Rook takes account of all things laid out; watching the mysterious light move about, before panning down to The bodies. Countless armored folk lay dead at the group's feet, prompting the question of What exactly fired that kind of arrow?\n\nPSCHW\n\nPLOOF\n\nSnow rises upwards swiftly, taking The Rook by surprise as he comes to the only real conclusion; they're Under attack. \n\nIn a bellowing voice, The Rook yells a simple, yet effective command. _\"MOVE.\"_ And, following his own advice, he begins to harness his magical technique built off of pure energy, Running in place* And allowing the violet energy to build from his boots and lace into the ground, admittedly kicking up a fair amount of snow himself as he does so. \n\nIn a split second, he unleashes the pent up energy, speeding across the great open plain Towards the wall At a pace that would be shocking for someone so clad in armor as he.\n\nOf course, upon releasing the energy that has been magically stored, the table back at the Vektet's perimeter would suddenly lurch upward, no doubt messing with whatever may have been laid out ontop of it – it was an accident, of course, but still an inconvenience." }, { "author": "[:: SACHIKO ::] ", "message": "Swiftly sprinting into the gate with the others, sachiko felt a chill in their fur, as well as a shock of cold in their back paws. As they stare down in curiosity as to what this chill came from, they were greeted by a familiar foe: cold, white snow.\n\nLooking up to take in their surroundings, they are also greeted by a great gust of cold air: a blizzard was to be seen. Hah, haven't seen these things in a bit, she thinks.\n\nAside from the intense blowing winds and cold throwing her off her balance, for the first couple minutes here, sachiko seemed to be alright, for they could make out her surroundings just fine. Sure the... Sight of corpses and carnage all around, as well as the fact they were unsure how to utilize their abilties, and the other fact that they were severely behind from the other mercinaries brought great worry to them, but with a good creep and sneak around them, sachiko could live, and no one would notice.\n\nBut questions of course invade her mind. Where exactly did these bodies come from... And what was the commotion here exactly? From the loud sounds in the distance, to the sound of a bellowing voice they could barely make out, sachiko was greatly unsure.\n\nThey decide to take a moment to think about this for a moment. Dead bodies, the sounds of ignition, the sudden sight of arrows and bullets, something was rather familiar of this moment, but what was it...?\n\nBut as they begun to think about this, her ears perk up. A sound! The sound of a call, specifically. A bellowing call. However, they struggle to really make out the sound, which left them unsure as to what the voice really meant.\n\n\n\" Moo...? \"\n\nSachiko quietly questions outloud. Why would they need to \"Moo\" Right about now...?\n\nBut just suddenly, their questions were answered by something striking the snow near them. An arrow. And then, another. At first this did not phase or worry sachiko, perhaps all would be fine! But just suddenly, the bellowing voice's words made sense.\n\n\" Oh...\"Move\".....Haha. Everything makes sense now...! \"\nSachiko began to chuckle lightly, turning around from the scene only to instantly bolt out of there and search for any sign of the rest of the mercenaries." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "```diff\n- \"Great\" -\n```\nHe had little to comment on the state of the second floor, he felt no effect from the cold, bundled up nicely in his armour with not a millimetre of skin to show. Around him he could just make out his companions, the new faces panicked, they acted brash and impulsive, he smiled, of course so too did he upon first arrival in the vektet It would soon beat that out of them\n\nHis every move was calculated now after his experience on the first floor. First he switched off the VARET, dropping it entirely so he would not be hindered by its weight, kicking it under a snow covered body in case he needed it later.\nLittle could be made out of the surroundings, his eye naturally drew towards the tower; his ultimate goal. Yet for now there still remained secrets to be found, he considered the many options that surrounded him, but ultimately the decision was made for him.\n\nAs the projectile made contact he was little phased, getting worked up would only end badly so instead he thought logically, most likely it came from atop, or behind the wall, so to say if he got close enough to the wall he would end up in a blind spot where the fire could not reach, however they would likely have placements of smaller gunmen for such an occasion, and his black armour would do little for stealth in the endless white.\nThe solution then, was to get through or over the wall, despite its immense size.\nSo he began to walk, not run, the projectile had been slow moving and he would do best to conserve his energy, it was unlikely that their opponents could see well either, and in the event a projectile was headed straight for him, to dodge would be of minor difficulty." }, { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone whirred and beeped frantically upon arrival within the second floor, video and audio was being disrupted by the storm, radar too was disrupted, infrared saw only purple and none if its other sensors would do much to help see, it clung to Cumhall's back, and made disgruntled beeps, for there was no data to collect here." } ]	342.5	2,463
768.333333	2022-06-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "`𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆`\n\nEven in the winter cold, even in the turbulent gusts of a blizzardy wind, and even across the tremendous distance of the snowfield, the deep sound of a metallic creak echoed distantly within the mercenaries' ears. The frightening sound originated from the top of the wall to the north, and, to accompany the creak, a sparkle of silver light glittered within the darkness and the obfuscation of the blizzard. Its nature was without need for questioning, for its purpose was clear — it was the creak of a bow, and the light of a resplendent, silver arrow, at-the-ready to be launched down at them once more. It hadn't yet been leased, but once it was, it would blow through the brumal atmosphere of eternal night to strike its target like a clap of thunder.\n\nThe mercenaries, separated and blinded from one another, would immediately break apart in their sprints into individual groups. The foe's immediate goal was clear — to exterminate them as they entered — yet, still, the enemy possessed intentions for the attack further beyond simple destruction of its targets. So too, as revealed by the tactical convenience of the circumstances that encompassed the battlefield, did the hurling of the tremendous arrows intend to Split the mercenaries apart. And this plan was indeed going swimmingly, for in the blindness of the cold, each scattered in directions they knew not. \n\n\n\n\n—\n\n_ _\nRook and Cumhall\n\nThe Rook progressed through the obfuscation of the snow at an enhanced pace, crossing the empty snowfield of a mostly-level elevation, so long as one kept northward. Though two took toward the wall at roughly the same time, the armor-clad individual's progression was superlative amongst the two, crossing several-times the distance that Cumhall did, in his slowed pace. He would undoubtedly be the one to arrive first, yet a few moments would still have to be spared in order for one to actually reach the wall. The distance was long, as demonstrated by the visible, albeit rapid, approach of the first arrow.\n\nPerhaps this swiftness was a two-edged sword. He would cross considerable distance before the second arrow came, but progressing toward the wall at such speeds would undoubtedly make him the target for the next strike.\n\n__`𝙋𝙎𝘾𝙃𝙒`__\n\n—the sound of tremendous built-up force in the distance being released in a single instance, as in the flurry of the blizzard, the northern light flared in intensity—\n\n__`𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙇𝙀`__\n\n—the sound of a sharpened projectile, piercing the atmosp—\n𝙎 𝙇 𝘼 𝙈\n\n—Closing the distance only made the arrow harder to perceive. \n_ _\n\nEven in the darkness and obfuscation of snow and dark, and even disturbed by the unpredictable gales of wind that blew chaotically in every direction, the arrow struck with pinpoint accuracy, hitting the exact target which its guide intended it to. A massive silver arrow slams into the ground a half-meter ahead of the Rook, sending a forceful shockwave of upwards ice and snow possessing such terribly-weighty momentum that it could even likely stop someone as heavily armored as him in his tracks.\n\nThe air, save for the winds of the blizzard, went quiet in the following moment, as a gnawing cold permeated the region of the snowfield afflicted by the powerful shockwave of the arrow's impact. There would be no more projectiles immediately to follow, and yet the single decisive strike would provide a potent reason to halt, even if only for a moment.\n\nThe light atop the wall continued to flicker, remaining still and without a visible source in their frosted sight. It gave no motion, and there would be no terrible creak of metal that preceded the leasing of an arrow. The light had paused, as if to watch over them, or as if because it could not attack them further.\n\nPerhaps they had grown too close to the wall for it to effectively strike.\n\n_ _\n\n\n\n\n— \n\nAbstral\n\nThe attention-getting of his two unseen comrades — the Rook and Cumhall — would allow Abstral and the rest of the mercenaries to go undetected in their scattering throughout the overcast night, each cloaked in the indistinctness of the ever-shifting tides of the snowy winds. Even with what little knowledge they had of their surroundings, they were still capable of travelling in the vague directions of objects which they saw in the past. Abstral had taken to the north-eastern tower — a wise choice, for it allowed him to both evade the hotzone that was the northern path, all-the-while seeking out shelter in the midst of the blizzard.\n\nIn his progression forth, impeded only by the sudden gusts of wind that might stagger one ungeared for the treacherous snow, he would go otherwise undisturbed, allowed to progress toward the\n\n_ _\n\n\n\n\n—\n\nSachiko\n\nSachiko paced through the dark and blind of the snow, and found only light. They took to no particular path, and even though they searched for other individuals to regather with, their voice would only be met with the howling wind, their sightlines only met with the whites and dark silvers of the flickering snow. Still, their feet pressed forward, and with no fear of arrow to strike them down, they continued through the snowfield, guided unconsciously toward a single destination — the Light in the distance, As if it called to them. Eerily quiet, peaceful, and almost strangely warm, the closer one grew to the light, the closer they grew to" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Whisked away by the glowing blue aura from under his feet, the bandit would feel its effects work against his stomach, though it was immediately calmed by the biting breeze gusting through his fur, the sensation of fresh cold snow crunching under his paws in a once again, sunless environment. He didn't so much as break into a shiver for he was already acclimated to some of the harsh Snowdin nights he'd endured without a home or cozy inn to reside in — Though, what differed between such nights was the appearence of a shining moon above, standing high in the sky and dimly illuminating the floor in its white luminence. The bandit, scanning the radius around him, is met with the familiar sight of knights strewn across the snowy floor, each seemingly to have met their end with great, dense arrows piercing their body. To the north was an enormous wall that probably led to a city within - The most probable option for the bandit to take as he sought to learn more about this 'Cowardly Tvotkei' — and of course, the treasures he supposedly held in his vault. However, far eastward, the bandit couldn't help but notice the silhouette of a tower-like structure almost invisible in the night were it not for the revealing lunar light. He didn't think too much of it before examining the knights one last time.\n\n```fix\n\"Damn... I wonder how long they've been th- Oh Fuck.\"```\n\nKuo's senses flared, the sound of a projectile — most likely the ones that ended these knights' lives — whisped through the air. It was impossible for the goat to predict its trajectory, especially with the weather growing kicking back up — W h a m!! \n\nThe arrow struck the ground with frightening forces, forcing a flurry of ground snow into a cold, white mist scooped back into the growing gusts of the blizzard. The bandit switched his line of sight between the arrow that connected to the ground and the late knights claimed by its siblings. ``Was it a warnin' shot?... Nah, can't be.`` The bandit concluded rather quickly, because even if it was, the outsiders were in it for the long haul and the next shots would certainly be with intent to kill. No, with the calming of the storm upon their arrival, their assailant's line of sight — wherever they may be — cleared the way for a clean shot. \n\nAlthough some may that being clad in black in an endless field of white may be an eyesore for those wanting to stay hidden, the lack of any light — sans the dim illumination falling from the moon — coerced the bandit donned in his tattered black cloak and hood obtained from the first floor to stick to the shadows. Weather in itself is an erratic being and there was no telling as to when the storm could die or intensify, however, the bandit was going to be safer than sorry against an opponent with a clear advantage — a skilled archer, seemingly propped up on the dozens-meter high wall that stood tall in the north region ahead of them. Despite the whirlwind of snow that blocked Kuo's long-term sight, he was able to infer such from the trajectory of the arrow and the suspenseful long draw of the bow loading another arrow — There was no time to waste, but approaching the wall directly would certainly be a death sentence. Not only would the opponent's line of sight improve upon the outsiders growing closer to the wall, but the distance between the arrow and them would close as opposed to the few seconds it takes now for the arrow to traverse. For now, he'd too, scatter from the group and dash through the snowfield as quick as he could without eliciting any attention from the silver-arrowed sniper, heading northeast towards the tower, hoping there'd be a chance to observe the wall from a sheltered area and form a plan of approach." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Delayed in his approach, yet not without great speed in his nature, the furry bandit, Kuouo Aiche Dee, would gain sight of the tower within the blizard some time after Abstral had already arrived. Though it was mostly a mirage within the ever-shifting tides of the snowy winds, the silhouette of the moonlit tower soon grew more and more clear in the distant sight of the outsider as he trekked further and farther through the Second Floor's large snowfield. His caution of the bowman atop the wall was not unfounded, and yet it would seem unnecessary; not a single arrow would come his way as he ventured throughout the darkness of the night, and he would go almost entirely unimpeded in his venture forth.\n\nAccustomed to the cold as he was, it would not take long for him to arrive close to his destination — the in the distance.\n\nBefore he entered its general proximity, however, he would immediately take notice of the two figures close to its sole entryway. A white-haired man — no doubt Abstral, one of the mercenaries he had entered the Second Floor with — and a knight, clad in pearly armor. It seemed that they were talking something over, and so he was granted two options: Either to approach and join in their conversation, or to Continue to keep his distance, and seek another way into the tower." } ]	811	2,305
346.5	2022-06-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "`In the midst of the dark snowfield, there lies a tower of solace, dim-lit by the ebbing flicker of candlelight.`" }, { "author": "aa", "message": "`\"Stop there.\"`\n\nA voice clearly rang out from beyond the snow, light and feminine in voice, yet sharp and derisive in tone, speaking to none but Abstral, who ventured far closer to the entrance of the tower than he might've expected, being blinded by the snow as he was. The voice spoke in a language initially unknown and entirely foreign to him, yet as the device tucked in his left ear acted in accordance with the sound that it picked up, the statement was swiftly echoed back to him in English — Words of warning.\n\nAs the voice called out, the wind died down, and the snow settled, clearing sightlines for Abstral and the origin of the voice to see one another. Before him, stood at no shorter than 180cm, was a Knight, Clad in a pearly armor, and with a long, yet slim straightsword held dutifully within its armored left palm. In its right, a kiteshield, and one made of the very same metal that construed both its armor and its sword.\n\nFrom beyond its visor, he could not see the knight's face, yet its posture and its tone of voice would suggest that it was displeased with his very presence. It eyed him carefully for a moment, still on-edge, and seemed to linger on his features, as if analyzing him thoroughly to determine who he was.\n\n`\"Ochre has made it clear.\"`\n`\"We are not attending.\"`\n`\"Tell Tvoktei and his Emissary that they will have to visit him themselves.\"`\n\n*`\"Go, then. Begone, dog.\"`" }, { "author": "Abstral", "message": "As he dashed through the blizzard, Abstral could see a dim light ahead.\n\n``\"A flame? In this desolate cold place? Fascinating.\"``, He mused to himself as he ran towards it and its source.\n\nHe stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing a voice coming from the direction of... The tower he was actually very close to. \n\nAs the voice spoke and the translator in his ear translated her words, the blizzard around him appeared to come to an abrupt halt. Curious.\n\nAs was the appearance of the figure standing before him, what was clearly a knight.\n\nHe kept his swords summoned, ready in case of trouble, this knight didn't seem very happy to see him.\n\nHer next words did nothing to ease any of his feelings.\n\nTrying to ignore her last remark as best he could, Abstral thought how best to engage with this figure. She wanted him gone and yet he didn't even know who the people she was referring to were, nor who they were to her, though based on her tone, he could guess \"Friends\" Wouldn't be anywhere near the right term.\n\nClearing his throat he began to speak, hoping he chose his words carefully. If the figure got hostile, he would stand his ground.\n\n``\"Madam, I'm afraid I do not quite understand what it is you are asking me to do. At the risk of sparking your ire, I wish for you to elaborate. Where might I find this \"Ochre\" And this \"Twoktei\" And his Emissary? Do they lie ahead of me? Within the tower you and I stand in front of? Are they foe to you? You are the first living being I have encountered in this \"Realm\", I have not met those to whom you refer.\"``" }, { "author": "aa", "message": "The knight allowed the stranger to explain himself, raising a brow beneath their pearly helm in questioning of his lack of understanding toward her statement. Lifting her chin slightly, the armored knight rested their straightsword atop their left shoulder, tapping it against the plate armor twice, as she first let him speak, and then let a moment for the words to sink in. A quiet, slightly concerned, perplexed `\"Hm.\"`* Lifted from the knight's lips, as she slowly lowered the sword's tip to rest against the snowy ground at her side.\n\n`\"Truly.\"` \n`\"You've no idea where you are.\"`\n\nA subtle, but prolonged exhale was forced from her lungs, as her eyes briefly closed, head tilted slightly up and away from the stranger ahead of herself. Abstral's words would come with a twofold impact — first, with the shocking fact that he was not in the service of Tvoktei's legion, and second, with the even More Shocking fact that he Wasn't from this Floor. \n\nDespite what first impressions might suggest, she wasn't quick enough to pick up on the subtlety of his language — his use of the word Realm Would be a clear giveaway that he wasn't actually one who hailed from another Floor within the Ark — the Vektet, But she, for lack of greater caution, glossed over the fact. Perhaps it was of slight convenience to Abstral, for her following words continued in a slightly more favorable disposition.\n_ _\n\n`\"Ochre is the keeper of this respite.\"`\n`\"And Tvoktei is the sovereign of this Floor. He is elsewhere.\"`\n\nShe elucidated, still half-in-thought over the outsider's previous statement, softly tapping her sword against the snow in a fidget.\n\n`\"You're not from this Floor, and you're not one of Tvoktei's dogs, so,\"`\n`\"He would perhaps find interest in you. That Ochre.\"`\n\nSo she finished. As Abstral clearly demonstrated his lack of knowledge on the subject of the sovereign Tvoktei, it seemed that the knight's dismissive nature toward him departed. As he had already ascertained, it seemed both the knight, as well as the one referred to as Ochre, found quite some disdain for him. Merely the idea of being associated with him was reason for the knight clad in pearly armor to turn him away.\n\nNow, though, some diplomacy could be made. The knight stared again at Abstral, and, with her blade lowered, eased her stance.\nHowever, she was not yet ready to up and invite him into the tower.\n\n`\"Put away your weapons.\"`\n`\"Ochre would like to see you, but not with a sword in hand.\"`\n`\"Outsiders shouldn't have any objects of violence when entering the respite.\"`\n`\"It goes against its nature.\"`" } ]	356	1,386
579.777778	2022-06-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral studied the Knight's reaction to his words and as he sensed her demeanor towards him soften, he eased.\n\nHe listened to her words very carefully. So those that this Knight spoke of were important to this Floor, huh?\n\n``(\"Interest in me? I hope not of the \"You are an outsider and I want to murder you variety.\")``, Abstral thought to himself.\n\nAs the Knight lowered her own blade and spoke of a meeting with this \"Ochre\", Abstral did as she asked, unsummoning his swords, he had other ways to fight in case it was necessary anyway.\n\n``Very well. I look forward to meeting this \"Ochre\". Take me to him, if you'd please. \"``, He replied simply as he waited to follow her." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Strangely enough, the suspenseful draw of the bow in the echo of the night and its subsequent cannon-like projectiles crashing into the snow ceased entirely — Whether it be to the bandit's skill, his luck, or an ulterior motive beyond the bandit's current understanding was unclear. Nevertheless, Kuouo would continue to practice cauton as he blitzed through the snowfield.\n\nThe thief's haste would come in handy, bringing him into clear view of the respite, confirming its existence opposed to a dark mirage in the turbulant winds of the blizzard. Upon making his approach towards the entry way, it was immediately apparent that Abstral had already made contact with someone who resided within the tower — A knight, donning pale gray and white armor as opposed to the brass golden alloy the bandit had grown familiar with. He stopped midway, staying cloaked in the darkness as he eavesdropped midway through their conversation.\n\n``\"Ochre is the keeper of this respite.``\n``\"And Tvoktei is the sovereign of this Floor. He is elsewhere.\"``\n\nHe'd continue to harken on their conversation, already ascertaining the knight's disdain for Tvotkei — or at least, whoever he commanded. It was unclear who this Ochre was, but the state of being an outsider unallied with the sovereign was enough to gain entry. However, given the sniping assault from earlier and the Vektet's general mistrust of outsiders, the bandit stood on the digits of his paws, seeing as the threat from earlier has yet to cease. This erring on the side of caution will eventually subside, but for now, he'd seek an alternative route into the tower for further eavesdropping. The best case scenario was that the tower residents would stay true to their oaths of non-violence within the respite. Worst case being is that its yet another ambush on Abstral waiting to ignite with his weapon sheathed. \n\nEither way, it'd lead to Information That'd lead the bandit forth throughout his embarkment of the second floor." }, { "author": "aa", "message": "The pearl-clad knight withdrew her sword, smoothly sliding its silver length into the sheathe at its side. A slight nod was given toward the stranger who openly disarmed himself, acknowledging his simple and straightforward response, one with a refreshing amount of compliance in its tone. How many times had she had to turn the damned obnoxious dogs of Tvoktei in the past few solar marks, alone? Ever since that News Reached this floor, it seemed that there was an unending stream of drama that found its place at the doorstep of the respite. She, as its guardian, had to turn away each and every last one of those dogs. Some conflicts escalated to outright battles, whereas others were disarmed after an annoyingly-long verbal debate. While she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about meeting people from other Floors, she knew Ochre would be pleased, and so she could expect an ease in her duty.\n\nA brief pause followed Abstral's demanifestation of his blades and the knight sheathing her own silver sword, as she briefly stared into the distant blizzard breeze, as though she had caught eye of something peculiar in the distance. She couldn't quite confirm the suspicion, but it felt as though the two were being overseen by watchful eyes hidden within the flurries of snow... Peculiar. But not something that she would need to attend to immediately, at least.\n\n`\"Hm.\"`\n_ _\n\nDismissing the thought, the knight turned slowly, her eyes still peering briefly over her left shoulder, before she finally pushed open the door of the respite. Allowing the outsider room to enter, the atmosphere would shift, as the winter air turned to lukewarm, the interior heat of the respite pouring from its midst and into the surrounding air. It smelled strangely of... Mothballs, or like an old library, and why its scent was so would be no mystery once one had actually entered.\n\n`\"Good luck.\"`\n\nThe knight gently motioned with their open left hand for Abstral to enter, and left him with that slight, foreboding message. She would not enter herself — at least not right now — but would allow Abstral an audience with whoever rested within the tower-like respite." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Inside the Respite\nIndeed, it smelled of an old library, like a mix of mothballs, dust, aged ink, and old parchments, each blending into a slightly nostalgic scent that was as slightly familiar as it was slightly irritating to the nose. The scent was accompanied by an interior design of a likewise archaic nature — it was mostly wood, with only few parts of the floor being made of stone, with large archs as a major motif in the architecture. Bookshelves lined either side of the walls to the immediate left and right of the entryway, and those bookshelves only grew and scattered in an arrangement that first seemed absolutely Cluttered, Yet a further examination would reveal that they were, indeed, quite well-organized, albeit Inconveniently Organized. Books, books, books, and more books, from floor to ceiling, and some even in shelves that were attached To The ceiling... The only thing that held the respite's interior from possessing the status of 'library' was its relatively small interior, and the presence of some basic living-quarters farther back, opposite Abstral, and several paces forwards." }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "```cpp\n\"𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛,\" A voice spoke from further within the respite, with a subtly masculine, yet quite youthful tone. There was pride, erudition, clarity, and dignity within the voice of the speaker, whose voice roused with some subtle impatience. \n\n\"𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈.\" He snapped, quite clearly dismissive of the one who entered, without even having taken the time to see his face nor to confirm hisreason for being here.\n\n\"𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜. 𝙽𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙽𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚘𝚛 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍.\"\n\n\"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐 𝚖𝚎.\"```\n\nSo spoke the youthful figure of a pale, white-haired boy, with silver eyes to match. Stood at no taller than 163cm, he was most unimposing in sheer stature alone, and yet the inherent expression of nobility that permeated his very soul granted a weightiness to his very presence, as though one stood in the audience of a monarch's hall.\n_ _\n\nThat monarch's hall, however, was no more than a library, and its throne the chair of a desk, one which the princely individual, unmistakable as any other but Ochre, studied. Without so much as lifting his eyes from the book which he read, he spoke and scorned Abstral, only briefly peeking to affirm two features which mattered — the color of his hair, and the color of his eyes.\n\nAbstral blended into the Second Floor more than any other, and it was likely due to the former of those two features.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜. 𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚖 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎...\"```\n\nHe gave a quiet `hmph.` Of contempt, lifting his gaze from the book with half-rolled eyes as he spoke. Ochre expressed with a slight shrug and a subtle smile, as if almost cocky in his statement, like one who had achieved something over another. \n\n```cpp\n\"𝙾𝚑, 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚖𝚖? 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗. 𝙷𝚊𝚑. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌.\"```\n\nSarcasm was laced into his voice, and he furrowed his brow toward the visitor, rattling off his list of dismissals and accusations before he even gave him a chance to explain himself." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "Outside the Respite" }, { "author": "aa", "message": "`\"You there.\"`\n\n—With Abstral gone, there was only one person left within the general proximity of the respite who could feasibly hear her voice. She called out, clear as the sound of a silver bell in the night, as her sword slowly peeked from within its sheathe at her right. With eyes of care and caution, she scanned through the flurries of snow, searching for the one whom she had detected earlier.\n\n*`\"...Step forward.\"`\n\nKuouo's presence was known, but his exact position was not. The knight did not just request, but demanded, at-the-ready for the potential spy or assassin to step forth. Were hostilities to ensue, she was certain — She would have them meet their end." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Considering the only thing hiding the bandit was the cloak of night, he half-expected to be seen - And he was half-right, the knight calling out his presense but still seeking his location. Doing a bit of scanning of his own, there was nothing to hide by in sight and Angel forbid the knight doesn't inspect a suspicious snow poff in the middle of the field if Kuo so chooses to shove snow over himself. No, the guardian of the respite was already on alert, hand on the hilt of her blade, ready to cut down anyone she declared a hostile threat to the tower. However, Kuo did not harbor any hostile intent towards the knight, figuring more than likely that they were on the same side if this 'Tvotkei' is really the shitstain he's heard about. It'd be a waste of time, energy, and possibly a life compared to the real threat he needed to save energy for — The bowman, stationed high on the wall above. As the probability of his initial option of infiltration waned, so did his discretion as he peacefully ignited a fireball within the palm of his left paw, his right waving off a two-fingered salute as he finally entered her general proximity.\n\n```fix\n\"Yo, sorry fer skulkin' around. Hope ya don't mind, after all, havin' giant arrows shot at us from whoever-the-fuck ain't the most welcomin' invitation I'm sure ya can understand... The name's Kuouo Aiche Dee, mighta heard of me, mighta not - Fact is, y'sounded like ya hate the hell of this Tvotkei guy, but I ain't know the slightest bit about 'im. Y'wanna fill me in?\"```\n\nHe approached, a laid-back, casual tone in his voice as he stared directly into the tower-guardian's faceplates. He asked, despite already knowing a tinge bit of information about their common advesary, blessed to the bandit by the All-Knowing himself. The only reason he had asked was to segue away from the knight's doubts about the thief not being aligned with the floor's sovereign and also gain entryway into the tower, where he could learn more information going forward.\n\n```fix\n\"Oh, and that guy inside is someone who I came in with... Abstral was 'is name I think.\"```\n\nHe added, furthering his reputation so far as an outsider — But the knight could probably tell already." }, { "author": "aa", "message": "The knight's eyes stared carefully from beyond her silver armor as she witnessed a flame rouse within the dead cold of the blizzardy night. Sword released fully from her sheathe, she prepared herself for a possible conflict to follow the manifestation of the arcane light, eyes set solemnly upon the emerging form of the bandit in the dark.\n\n...\n\n`Fluffy?`\n\nShe raised a brow imperceptibly from beyond her helm's visor, her hand awkwardly shifting about the handle of her silver straightsword as he approached. There was confusion, at first, when he appeared before her eyes, but even moreso than confusion, Curiosity.* Cold and as straight-to-the-point as the knight was, there were still things that caught her eye. Kuouo's furred form — the likes of which a secluded knight of the Second Floor would never prior have had the experience of laying eyes upon — came to be an object of interest to the pearl-clad knight, despite her still-persistent caution. Her readiness for battle and general hostility toward the outsider abated in slight, replaced in part with the aspect of curiosity.\n\nBecause of this curiosity, she near lost focus entirely as he began to explain himself. She had never seen such a fluffy creature speak.\n\n\n...\n\n\n`\"Not particularly.\"`\n\n...The knight instinctively and almost immediately spoke that reply in response to Kuouo's request — \"Y'wanna fill me in?\"\nNo, not particularly. She didn't really care to fill him in.Kuouo Aiche Dee Or whoever he may be, the knight really didn't care to hold such conversation at her own expense.\n_ _\n\n`\"I didn't know that the Hall of Audience was open again.\"`\n`\"I guess he'd want to see you too, then. That Ochre.\"`\n\nThe knight tapped the sword against her right shoulderguard twice, slowly, and stared with a slightly perplexed glare toward the furry bandit opposite herself. Shifting her stance slightly, she breathed a silent and short `\"Hm.\"`\n\nWhile it perhaps was not immediately obvious, it seemed that the knight had misunderstood not only Abstral, but Kuouo, too. Kuouo had arrived from the `Ascent to the Second Floor` which bridged the First Floor to the Second Floor, and yet the knight was under the impression that Kuouo had come from the Hall of Audience, A location whose existence he had never even heard of, prior. Oddly, she took most of what he said at face value, and assumed the most basic of circumstances regarding both Kuouo and Abstral's status as outsiders to the Second Floor — since she cared not to think otherwise, she assumed both of them to have arrived from a Floor other than the Second, entirely disregarding the outlandish idea that they could have come from outside of the Ark. Especially Considering the fact that he \"Spoke their language\"... Or, well, the R.A.S.W.L.T did that for him, but the knight did not know of such a device's existence.\n\nThe knight lightly tapped the sword for a third time against her shoulderplate, before coming to a quick-and-easy decision, sheathing the blade smoothly back into its holster at her right hip. She, while still facing Kuouo, placed her now empty left hand against the form of the wooden door, slowly shifting it open. An invitation, of sorts — but not one she would finish until she had given him a clear warning.\n\n`\"...Put away that flame.\"`\n`\"Fire isn't good for books.\"`\n`\"Ochre will definitely kill you if you scorch any of his library.\"`" } ]	441	5,218
1,980.666667	2022-06-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral followed the Knight as she led him into the Respite, nodding as she wished him luck and remained outside herself.\n\nHe stepped inside noticing the sights and smells, a quite old and low-tech library but certainly very impressive was the massive collection of books inside such a small space, if he were more of a scholar he might have been tempted to stop and read one, but he hadn't the time anyway.\n\nHe headed towards what appeared as a living-quarters before the sound of yet another person made him stop. The voice of a white-haired man. (\"Huh, guess we all fit in up here, huh?\"), he mused to himself quickly before taking in the words of who was probably this \"Ochre\".\n\nThe man barely even gave him a glance, more so dismissing him and, as the Knight did, mistaking him for someone else. \n\nHe paid attention to the man's words even still. There was mention of that Tvoktei again. It was clear this man had much distate for him by the way he spoke regarding him. Obsequies? Fallen Old enemy? Strategic meeting? Abstral knew not what this man was even talking about and the sarcasm and the man dismissive nature surely didn't help.\n\nIt even got on his nerves a bit... And reminded him somewhat of himself.\n\nAs the man finished with his prattling, Abstral spoke.\n\n``\"Greetings, Ochre is it? The Knight outside allowed me passage into what I assume is your abode, quite a lavish one, by the way. Let me assure you sir, as I did her, that I am not sent by this \"Tvoktei\" Or anyone from this Floor of yours. I am merely passing through on my journey up this strange place.\"`` Abstral gestured in a way that clearly indicated he meant more than just where they were standing.\n\n``\"Ah, forgive me, you do not even know to whom you are addressing nor who is addressing you. I am known as Abstral.``" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "```fix\n\"Can't say I know what the Hall of Audience is, but sure, let's go with that. And yeah, don't worry, I've got great control with this stuff! Ya needn't worry aboutta thing.\"```\n\nKuouo smiled, swiping his palm across the air and disappating the fire into nothingness, enveloping him in the warm light escaping from the open door. The bandit saw himself in, removing the hood attached to his horns and allowing it to fall to his shoulders, fully revealing his fluffy face. Upon entering, he was greeted with a familiar sense. Books and books neatly stacked and organized within this cozy little hole, bearing a calming scent that reminded Kuo of his younger days, spending hours at the Librarby reading manga. It was definitely no wonder the knight asked him to put away his fire, nearly everything within the respite was flammable save for the stone that made up its exterior. \n\nThough he arrived late to their conversation, the bandit's sense of hearing was greater than an average human's. Since he was somewhat distracted by the knight however, he could only gather bits and pieces of the snow-white boy's rant against Tvotkei, once again proving his disdain. The bandit smirked, seeing as their alleigence more or less aligned, he could use this as an advantage to gain Ochre's trust quicker despite being an outsider.\n\n```fix\n\"Sorry t' intrude, but I was told y'might have interest in speakin' to me as well as Abstral 'ere. Seems he already let the cat outta the bag, that we're outsiders? Hope that doesn't change much, since I'm interested in learnin' more of how much of a shitstain this Tvotkei is. Like I told yer girl outside, I've only heard a bit... Was more interested in hearin' about the gate guardian of the First Floor and perhaps... Well let's jus' say I heard this Tvotkei sits his ass on a pile of gold, and I ain't hesitant to pull it right out from under 'im.\"```\n\nThe bandit made his intentions clear, as well as where he hailed from and finally the possibility that he was one of the outsiders to change the first floor — If such rumuors were floating around, that is." }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "His demeanor changed sharply as Abstral further explained himself. The youthful-appearing noble lifted a brow, softly laying the book which formerly captivated his attention atop the desk ahead of himself, slowly shifting into an upright stance within his chair. Ochre's silver eyes locked firmly on Abstral's form as he spoke, and further introduced himself, before the keeper of the respite finally stood, his long, robe-like garb descending floatily to his sides as he made himself upright. As the outsider concluded in his explanation, his eyes opened wide, and not only did his harsh and disdainful nature depart, he appeared almost astonished with what he had heard.\n\nNow stood, Ochre's appearance was revealed in whole. He donned what at first glance seemed to be an oversized mantle — for he stood quite short, no taller than 165 in stature — but upon further analysis, it seemed that the loose and flowing garb was crafted specially for his size; his sleeves clutched close to his body, even though much else of the garb did not. The pure-white cloth of the free-flowing garb possessed lace motifs, and was accented with silver streaks of silk, fittingly suggesting — as with the rest of Ochre's nature — that the resident of the respite was none other than Nobility. Despite the garb's slightly strange appearance, it was otherwise quite elegant. Like a scholarly robe, of sorts.\n\nStill, and appearances aside, Abstral had made himself someone quite of note in Ochre's eyes. \n\n```cpp\n\"𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜... 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚐.\"```\n_ _\n\nWith his arms hidden within his flowing robe and tucked behind his back, Ochre paced around the desk, standing just ahead of it and a comfortable distance from Abstral, so to properly converse with the man. A subtle gleam of pleasantness glimmered within the formerly-cold and angered silver eyes of Ochre, as he now gave him the courtesy he would Never Show to one of Tvoktei's dogs. Though he still had his suspicions, Ochre found courtesy and cordiality within one who, despite any other trait about them, did not blindly follow after Tvoktei, as so many others within the Second Floor did. And to boot, Abstral claimed to be an Outsider — perhaps one of the most fascinating and pivotal peculiarities that one could ever interact with on Any Floor of the Ark.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜.\"\n\"𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎.\"```\n\nOchre was not openly suspicious of Abstral, for he had no real reason to doubt what he said, but he still stayed on his toes. He granted him the courtesy of a proper conversation, and would not treat him worse than he would any other guest, yet still, Ochre was wise as he was cautious. Perhaps those two traits are one-in-the-same, so long as the latter stays within healthy measure; nonetheless, he sought further confirmation and further information through the conversation that was certain to follow their introductions.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝙼𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝙾𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝙰𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕.\"\n\"𝙽𝚘𝚠,\"```\n\nHe spoke, forward-mindedly, to push their conversation beyond mere greetings. He brought both of his hands front-and-center, intertwining his left and right fingers, folding them together, and resting both hands atop his lower breast. Ochre took a single step forward, a slow breath slipping into his lungs as he prepared to speak, before—\n\n`Creak.`\n\nThe door opened, and Kuouo, a second outsider, was revealed.\n\nOchre was left blindsided for but a single moment, as he stared in slight confusion beyond Abstral and toward Kuouo, who had stepped in so suddenly. And as soon as Ochre had time to react to the outsider's sudden appearance, Kuouo had begun to explain himself. With both interest and surprise in his eyes, Ochre would take the information in stride, his glance shifting ever-subtly as he carefully concealed his emotions behind a motionless visage of stoic nature.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.\"```\n\nThe youthful noble's brow furrowed slightly, his head tilting back as his chin shifted slightly upward, and his fingers tightening slightly in their furled state. Ochre was adept at hiding his emotions, but these few subtleties in his appearance would reveal to a more careful observer his immediate, if quite unpronounced, reaction to Kuouo's statement.\n\nThe words that were now to flow forth would retain Ochre's characteristic subtlety and elegance, but so too were engrained with the delicate shades of emotion which remained invisible on his face.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢...\"\n\"𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑.\"```\n\nHe spoke, shifting his gaze away from Kuouo, as he folded his hands again behind his back, and paced sternly to the side of his desk, staring off toward one of the many bookshelves that line the walls of the respite.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕.\"\n\n\"𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚘 𝙸 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑.\"\n\n\"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝... 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.\"```\n\nOchre paused, turned at about a ninety-degree angle from Kuouo, glancing at him from the very corner of his eye. His speech was meticulous, and slightly scornful, yet not utterly disdaining of Kuouo's very being. Indeed, it felt like Ochre was taking the position of some sort of teacher, correcting a student's ill behavior. A tad condescending, but characteristic of Ochre's nature, and not without foundation.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"'𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕'...\"\n\"𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎, 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚃𝚊𝚊𝚜𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎; 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚒𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚍, 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑. 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚢𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖.\"\n\n\"𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐.\"```\n\nHe folded his arms, glanced briefly at Abstral, and then toward Kuouo, allowing a brief pause for his words to settle in, before concluding.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙.\"\n\"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝?\" —he spoke, motioning toward Kuouo.\n\"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝,\" He spoke, his eyes shifting toward Abstral, as he motioned too toward him.\n\"𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?\"```" } ]	490	5,942
2,146	2022-06-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral watched as Ochre's, or what he assumed to be Ochre, demeanor quickly changed.\n\nThe man kept a distance from him still, and introduced himself properly, being, as a matter of fact, who Abstral assumed him to be.\n\nAbstral nodded after the man introduced himself proper.\n\n....And sharply turned around as he heard the door behind them creak. \n\nIt was yet another one of the so called \"Mercenaries\" He was being grouped in with and a Monster at that. Since coming to this timeline he hadn't seen many of the race, and had not visited this world's Underground yet. Abstral listened in to the goat's words, he spoke very curtly, Abstral noted. Hopefully his bluntness wouldn't get the both of them killed.\n\nBut ah, they were on the same side, well, \"Side\".\n\nAbstral shifted his attention to Ochre and his reaction to the newcomer, Kuouo, and listened as the man spoke once more, Ochre's demeanor definitely shifted in a less... Friendly way, after Kuouo's intrusion.\n\nHe listened as Ochre spoke sharply to Kuouo, particularly to what he was saying, not only reprimanding the bandit for his way of speech but also name dropping the name of the Knight he met earlier, Taash, and the elaboration on this \"Tvoktei\" Fellow. \n\n\n\nAbstral was about to speak again, to clarify that he was not, as Kuouo made it seem to incriminate them both, here for power or wealth, when Ochre got straight to the point, looking directly at both of them, him last, asking the only question that he supposed, really mattered.\n\nAbstral thought to break the tension before the bandit got them killed.\n\n```\"For me, it is as I said, I am only passing through. Though if further elaboration is what you require, I am also curious of this place, and I mean more than just where you, the goat, and I stand. Strange anomalous places such as this fascinate me, but I assure you, I am no conqueror, I have not come here to obtain me\n\nAns of wealth or power or to take this or any other place from its rightful owners. You are very wise to be suspicious of us outsiders, however I assure you, I have come meaning no harm.\"```\n\n Abstral said all of this with as much conviction as he could muster, as it was all true and he had no reason to lie. \n\nIt wouldn't be prudent to the current situation." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo blinked a couple of times, back slumped as he scratched his horn amidst being lightly scolded by Ochre. ``'Well it ain't my damn fault it started rainin' arrows from the sky. Otherwise I wouldn't have fuckin' came 'ere, 'specially t' get nagged at.'`` He responded — Silently within his mind of course. Nevertheless, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat, acting upon Ochre's second chance to correct his actions whilst Abstral cleaned his own slate from the bandit's words of association.\n\n```fix\n\"Sorry 'bout that, just assumed you were her boss izall. The name's Kuouo Aiche Dee. Didn't mean t' intrude on yer tower here. Only reason I didn't go fer whatever's behind that giant wall instead is because 'f someone rainin' down giant arrows from up there. What with the blizzard and all, we jus' kinda got scattered.\"```\n\nKuouo rolled his digits lightly across the side of his lap, staring downwards for a moment as if he were trying to choose his next words carefully as well as further process Ochre's explanation. Obviously, he Was There for wealth... But what with he's been explained to by Vaazva and mentioned to in passing by Aazkue, Ochre furthered the picture of the tyrant Tvotkei, confirming the words said by those before him. Kuouo tilted his head back up, taking a deep breath before looking back at the respite's owner.\n\n```fix\n\"Look, I ain't gonna lie t' ya because I already spilled my guts t' ya ninety seconds ago. I initially came t' the second floor on words that Tvotkei does have this astoundin' amounts of wealth, as well as bits and pieces of his cowardice and what not. Y'say he's a warlord and tyrant right? Doesn't care fer anybody below him? Safe t' say, I don't respect anybody like that - as anyone should - and I'm sure that it affects the people of the second floor. I'm willin' t' hear out whatever yer interested in if it means puttin' some kinda fascist like that outta power. Otherwise, if yer not happy with that, I'll be outta yer hair for good. Sound like a deal?\"```" }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "```cpp\n\"𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑... 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛.\"```\n\nOchre seemed to initially find a slight displeasure within Abstral's statement for his presence on the Second Floor, yet swiftly dashed away such displeasure with rationality. As Abstral had described, he, while he did not possess any extravagant goals — or goals that would directly align themselves with Ochre's own — he was honest to himself, and he, too, was one who pursued the fulfillment of one's desire for knowledge. To explore and unravel the secrets of somesuch a location as this without seeking material good for oneself was, indeed, noble in a way. And Ochre could not allow himself to be so self-centered as to expect others to unanimously wish for the same future as he; such ideologies were contradictory, going against the goal which he sought one-in-the-same as Tvoktei's tyranny.\n\nHe could respect Abstral's desires, and for this conclusion he had reached, would not be opposed to assisting him. Ochre nodded quietly, and while not allowing his expression to obviously shift, seemed satisfied with the response.\n\nKuouo's response followed shortly after, and Ochre would hold a careful ear to the words that followed. Indeed, Ochre expected him to rapidly shift his tone and stance after he suggested that they `\"Start from the top\"`. Yet, Kuouo would do no such thing as contradicting his former statements — instead, he only clarified his points, and continued to stand firm with the declaration he had initially made. Ochre raised a brow, shocked at his confidence, yet also thoroughly impressed with his honesty and his lack of a conniving tongue. \n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚎...\"```\n\nThere was almost a subtle sense of astonishment in his tone of voice. Ochre, despite the shades of condescending in the way he spoke to others, was respectful toward those who asserted themselves. Kuouo's lack of a desire to suck up to someone whose good side might provide significant advantages was an attractive trait to Ochre, who thoroughly believed in the idea of proud, independent thought. He gave a subtle nod, deliberating his next sentence, and there could almost be seen a smile expressed on his stoic visage.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 — 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗,\" He spoke, pushing aside the lessers of the acknowledged statements that had been replied to. It was no matter that should be hung on, and was greatly overshadowed by his judgment on the ultimate topic at hand: their reason for being here.\n\n\"𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚢.\"\n\n\"𝙴𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢...\"\n\"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚢 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑.\"\n\n\"𝙽𝚘𝚠.\"\n\"𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.\"```\n\n_ _\nOchre took a deep breath, nearly sighing, a strange sense of guilt flickering in his eyes as he unhesitantly continued with his elaboration. What he was about to say was going to contradict all of what little they knew about him. Yet each statement was entirely, and regretfully, true.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙼𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝙾𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚎. 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒. 𝙷𝚎, 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝙸𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘. 𝙸𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍, 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘.\"\n\"𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞.\"```\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠.\"\n\"𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎.\"```\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞.\"\n\"𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗, 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎.\"\n\n\n\"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.\"\n\n\"𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘...\"\n\"𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝚂𝚘. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎?\"```\n\nOchre concluded. His words seemed to clash in logic and collide in rationality — he had formerly appeared to despise Tvoktei, yet in his present statements, he seemed almost reverential of him. He said that Tvoktei must die for them to continue pushing forward, yet he wished for them to dethrone him, rather than to take his life. Ochre's straightforward nature seemed to haze beyond his typical clearness, and his intents seemed vague. Only once they had given him an answer would things be made absolutely clear, and perhaps that was his intent — to draw conclusion from both of them." } ]	537	6,438
5,358.333333	2022-06-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral waited, watching Ochre's reaction to both his clarification and Kuouo's apology / offer for aid. Ochre seemed to take both of their statements well, allowing them to rest here if they so pleased and while Abstral was not by any means tired, it was appreciated nonetheless.\n\nAbstral sensed that Ochre was about to tell them something of great importance, the \"Final clarification\" An indicator of such and so he made sure to listen to what the man said next.\n\nMost of it was simply Ochre introducing his importance and history in relation to this floor, though it was interesting that he was a descendant of royalty but yet a servant of this \"Tvoktei\". Abstral had never heard of royalty serving someone greater than their own blood before.\n\nHis next words about his undying loyalty most certainly got Abstral's attention. Ochre seemed a distaste for this Tvoktei yet would do whatever it was he asked of him? Made sense, he supposed, as he Was A servant, but still, would he really kill them on mere command?\n\nYet even so, his next words cut Even deeper. \n\n\"There is no way beyond this Floor other than to take Tvoktei's life.\"\n\nAbstral briefly tensed up. How were they to leave without making an enemy out of the man standing before them? He was sure Tvoktei wouldn't just allow them to leave peacefully., warlords were typically not very welcoming, after all. What would he-\n\nOchre's next words interrupted Abstral's thoughts but did little to ease his worries.\n\nHe wanted them to show Tvoktei, a tyrant, a warlord, mercy?\n\nHis words in regard to Tvoktei were, as the man had said, a clear contradiction, and understanding why would be useless to this situation, Ochre wanted them to choose to either confront Tvoktei and somehow show the tyrant mercy or stay here, the latter option not acceptable to Abstral, nor would he turn back.\n\nHow would they dethrone such a being, a warlord and a tyrant, without taking his life? Why would Ochre help them do so and wouldn't he\n\nJust, as he had said, turn on them if Tvoktei willed it?\n\nAbstral pondered all of this, he wasn't sure how much of his thoughts translated to readable expressions on his face. Ochre probably knew how they would react anyway, so would it matter if he could read them?\n\nFinally he spoke.\n\n```\"This is quite the strange situation indeed. I will tell you now that I will not stay here, nor do I have any intention to turn back. Your loyalty to Tvoktei, though confusing given your prior words, is, I suppose, understandable.\"\n\n\" I do not wish to make an enemy out of you and I will do everything in my power to help you peacefully overthrow Tvoktei, but I must ask you this:\n\nYou say that whatever the tyrant wills of you, you shall do, so how can we trust you? How do we know that you will not turn on us the second he sets his eyes upon us and commands you to strike us down? You want him overthrown, you are willing to lead us to his doorstep, so by guiding us there with the intent to dethrone the tyrant, are you not already betraying him? \n\nPut simply, if we agree to proceed onwards and help you with your plan, if the time comes where he calls upon you to oppose us, will you even then obey him?\"```" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo nodded, appreciating the acceptance of his apology and formal invitation into the safe-haven that was the respite. Kuo too, shared a light smile, knowing that his words inflicted somewhat of a positive influence on the third heir. With that, they had gained the trust of Ochre — At least, enough to provide an elaboration on his interest with the ambitious outsiders. Kuo listened carefully, feeling the weight of Ochre's respiration following the admission of yet another bound oath on the Vektet that chained an individual by their ankles - Though, instead of being invoked by the reverent Lord, the ``Taae Chit Ezer``, the key was held by the tyrant Tvotkei, sovereign of the second floor. Ochre regretfully informed them of what this oath meant — Both their lives against his blade if ordered to do so and hypothetically, his own if ordered to do so, followed by words that made the bandit almost visibly flinch.\n\n```JSON\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠.\"\n\"𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎.\"```\n\nKuo would continue to lend his ear as Ochre contradicted those very words with a desperate request: To overthrow the Colorless Sovereign without taking his life. Despite expecting such — and even offering to partake in such a favor in his clarification earlier — it was still a heavy request that would require further elaboration for the bandit to formally accept and act upon... Although, the prospect of doing such still deeply intrigued and excited him. Abstral stepped forward first, questioning the third heir's logic regarding the oath to his spouse. The bandit's brow furrowed, thinking Ochre's initial explanation was More than clear enough And it was obvious to the bandit that the revealing of such mutany against the Colorless Sovereign would ostracize Ochre, no matter the tyranny imposed on the floor's people — Commoners and nobles alike. However, that didn't mean the bandit didn't have questions of his own, for he too sought answers to fill the holes in logic he felt necessary to press onward.\n\n```fix\n\"Doubt there ain't 'zactly gonna be a peaceful way of overthrowin' a damn tyrant, just so ya know. Ochre here made it clear enough that he'll have t' do anything this fucker'd order him t' do... Already heard about this too... 'bout the cowardice of this asshat, hidin' behind others that do his biddin'.\"```\n\nHe said, reminiscent of Vaazva's crude knowledge invoked to the bandit about the Colorless Sovereign.\n\n \n```fix\n\"I'd hate t' face off with ya bein' so nice an' all so far, Ochre... But I'll find a way t' keep you and Tvotkei alive — Given a couple questions answered first. First an' most importantly, ya say the only way t' get through this floor is to 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 yer king. I've already decided that I'll do everythin' I can 𝙣𝙤𝙩 to kill him. I'm content with not takin' anymore lives on the arc, even if it means not bein' able t' go forward — But what exactly is stoppin' us if we choose t' overthrow 'im instead? Secondly, who's the first heir to take 'is place if we do go through with this? If it's gonna be some other asshat who only cares for 'imself, then there ain't much of a point, 'less ya want me to beat up every other heir that threatens reignin' the place like Tvotkei. Thirdly... What are we up against in general?\"```\n\nKuouo reached into his INVENTORY, grabbing his notepad with the pen neatly inserted through the rings at the top. Regardless of whether or not he formally accepts Ochre's request upon a satisfactory answer of these questions, he was going to take notes to begin forming his gameplan of infiltrating whatever what was beyond that wall — Given the chance of taking out the archer threat.\n\n```fix\n\"Ya said yer willin' t' guide into this 'Pearl Palace.' Includin' yerself, what kinda security are we gonna be up against? I'm no stranger t' fightin', so lay it on me. That's all I have t' ask, so clear this up an' we can get started.\"```\n\nKuouo stared at Ochre, steadfast determination in his eyes as he awaited — and hoped for — satisfactory answers. The bandit would be most observant in this moment; although he didn't want to slightly distrustful of the respite's owner, the fallacies in his rationale instinctively invoked the bandit's knowledge of living on shady streets with even shadier people. His eyes awaited the language of Ochre's movements, the sound of his breathing, and of course, for any sudden movements. Such was learning ``The Art of the Deal`` alone on the streets of New Home." }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "Ochre's hands remained folded behind his back, and he maintained his unerring composure of stoicism throughout the entirety of his former statements, following through with such an unmoving visage even until they finished speaking. While the matter of what he said required him to swallow his pride — which was by no means a minor one of his traits — as well as to accept a cruel, unfair, and terribly agonizing reality, he wouldn't let such matters get to his clear and logical mindset, let alone to show on his face. Instead, Ochre's elegant demeanor sustained, his silver eyes clear and wide open, as he maintained comfortable eye contact, his breaths steady, and his demeanor only slightly phased. \n\nThere was only one thing that finally caused him to break from his unerring calm — their agreement. Ochre briefly closed his eyes, and gave such a sober exhale that it appeared the weight of several worlds had been lifted from his shoulders. A sigh of relief, perhaps; their agreement to assist, while he would not cling nor beg to acquire such approval, was a tremendous boon to his plans. There was hardly a chance to Ever Contact an outsider to the Second Floor, and infinitely moreso an Outsider to the Ark, itself. Tvoktei himself had seen to that.\n\nWith a subtle nod as they concluded, Ochre took a breath in, and prepared his response. Indeed, what exchanges they had so rapidly began to shoot back-and-forth upon their entry to the respite were weighty, long, and decided many major factors of not only Their Relations, but so too the impacts that they would have on the greater whole of the Second Floor. Ochre would let no moment to deeply think and plan his responses go unused, taking a brief, yet appropriate pause before he responded.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢, 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝚂𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚜, 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.\"```\n\nThe noble heir of the Moon-Mother's blood squinted his characteristically silver eyes, and withdrew his hands from behind his back. So he did to further explain the matter which he had just warned the two to be of a most secretive nature — one which, despite him only having recently met them, he would entrust them with, for there was little other choice he possessed. This opportunity would not come twice.\n\nHis left hand unclasped from his right, and he lifted it ahead of himself, holding his hand high and in the light of the candles. Revealed, on his left ring finger, was the only object right to fit on such a digit: a Wedding ring. One made of a strange, obsidian-like material and silver, coursing through with a peculiar, azure glow. Indeed, the ring seemed to hold a peculiar weightiness to it — it was an object of a vow, to be sure, yet there seemed to be something deeper, and almost strangely Incomprehensible Within.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎 — 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊'𝚜 𝚌𝚢𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 — 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎.\"\n\n\"𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢-𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗. 𝙱𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎.\"\n\n\"𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚘, 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚜𝚒𝚡, 𝚘𝚛, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚝 — 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚊𝚊𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚝 𝙴𝚣𝚎𝚛.\"\n\n\"𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚘, 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚝...\"```\n\nOchre's eyes peered close and with contempt at the form of the ring which the azure presence so delicately clung to. The enchantment was not at all potent, yet utterly unbreakable. How terribly frustrating — that a single object, so small as this...\n\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"...𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚜, 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜.\"\n\"𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.\"\n\"𝙸𝚗 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒, 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 — 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗.\"```\n\nHe concluded, again folding his hands behind his back. Such was the truth behind the matter of his supposed absolute loyalty to Tvoktei — which was, in truth, no more than his obligations as forced upon him by a false divine oath, the so-called impositions of their artificial marriage. Ochre would sooner cut his hand off than use it to serve Tvoktei, and yet he was Absolutely bound To do so. However, so long as the heir did not directly hear a command from Tvoktei's lips... He did not have to obey it.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚂𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒, 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚊𝚖, 𝚗𝚘𝚠.\"\n\n\"𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠?\"```\n\nThus concluded his response to Abstral's concern, and, by extension, some of Kuouo's. He shifted his silver glance back toward the furry bandit who had found some ease in the respite, but still seemed rightfully observant of the heir himself, and gave a light nod, closing his eyes as he pondered further his answer. Another pause, another moment to think; Ochre was not in a rush, and he was certain that he should make him clear in every step along the way.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗...\"\n\"𝙸'𝚖 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗, 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘.\" \n\n\"𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 — 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚒𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 — 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜.\"```\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙻𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎.\"\n\n\"𝚄𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎. 𝙰 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘.\"\n\n\"𝙾𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝.\"\n\n\"𝙰𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚖?——𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚊𝚊𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚝 𝙴𝚣𝚎𝚛, 𝚠𝚑𝚘, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜, 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗.\"\n\n\"𝙸𝚗 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚊𝚊𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚝 𝙴𝚣𝚎𝚛 — 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 — 𝚘𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒, 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝.\"```\n_ _\n\nOchre elaborated, slowly shifting his sights to one of the few windows within the respite. Squinting, he stared not with hatred, disgust, or even something such as the feeling as melancholy or helplessness, but the fire of Determination. To see a goal through, to fulfill his own wishes — and without spilling blood so not to make him the very thing he despised.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝙼𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍, 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚞𝚎.\"\n\n\"𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎, 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎-𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝙱𝚞𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚍,\" He said, locking eyes with Kuouo, the once-empty and stoic glare of his silver eyes now resounding with a warm familiarity — acknowledgment, a sense of camradarie, and deep respect,\n\"𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎.\"```\n\nOchre said, as if uncertain himself. He did not directly state that he had an alternative, yet the deterministic look in his eyes seemed to suggest he did.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚓𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚢 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚢.\"\n\n\"𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚜 — 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚁𝚎𝚞𝚔, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 — 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑.\"```\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜— ... 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞,\" He said, staring briefly at Abstral. His white hair was entirely unrelated to this Floor, yet served as an incredibly powerful tool for blending in to its local population.\n\n\"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚕𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎, 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑.\"\n\n\"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎.\"\n\n\"𝙽𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚕𝚕, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚜.\"```\n_ _\n\nOchre turned his back to the two, briefly pacing about and around his desk, and seemingly filing through a small storage-space located at the very rear of the respite. His tone seemed densely serious, and his eyes remained persistent in their focus, as he was most certain to continue explaining to them the intricacies of his plan—\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊? 𝙾𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚃𝚊𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕?\"```\n\n—nay, not immediately. First and foremost, they were guests in his respite. A respite should be a place one finds safety and comfort in. He hadn't treated them truly as guests up until now — an oversight which he was going to fix." } ]	1,335	16,075
2,002.2	2022-06-27	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral studied Ochre's face carefully, yet it showed no change from his initial statements as he took in his responses aside from the man appearing to relax, if only a little.\n\nAbstral listened careful to his next words, those being his elaboration on his loyalty to Tvoktei, and gazed at the ring that the man revealed, strange as it appeared.\n\nAh, so this Tvoktei made Ochre, and those related to him, swear a binding oath? That would explain why he was so hesitant to break it and the loyalty.\n\nBut, as Ochre would then say, he Was Willing.\n\nAs he elaborated on the terms of his oath, Abstral would then finally understand how it is he would help them, it would have to be indirectly, calling upon his contacts and manipulating this \"City of the Moon\" For them.\n\nAbstral nodded and because there was nothing more that he could have added, short of asking Ochre the stupid question of \"Why not just cut your hand off?\" Which, he was sure, would be met with an obvious answer, and so he simply said\n\n```\"I understand.\"```\n\nAbstral still listened in as the man shifted his gaze to Kuouo and his concerns.\n\nAh, so they Couldn't Just leave, that despicable Tvoktei would have to allow it.\n\nAnd of course it got more complicated from there, if he wanted to be rude, Abstral could of rolled his eyes at the additional complications Ochre told them of.\n\nOchre however spoke of another plan, and with that plan also revealed more interesting information. There were five or more \"Floors\" To this place. \n\nAbstral could have figured that, given the size of the building from the outside, but was that Really All there were?\n\nAbstral mentally stored this knowledge for later, keeping his ears open to Ochre.\n\nAh, so that bastard had an entire army pitted against them? Of course, he'd have followers, granted, a tyrant usually did, but an army would be tough, he was sure the bandit and Ochre's comrades could fight, but if it came down to just the two of them versus an entire army, he did n\n\nOt like those odds one bit.\n\nAbstral's eyes briefly widened as Ochre referred directly to him. He did suppose the white hair, as Ochre himself had, would help him blend in if the populace all had the same color hair, which he supposed, fit this place's wintery nature.\n\nHmph, so, as with Ochre, their enemies were only reluctant ones, bound to Tvoktei the same as Ochre? That would make sense and also make things... Tricky. Negotiating with or having them turn traitor would likely be next to impossible. He was never the diplomatic type, that was Shiro, but with negotiations of the table entirely, it seemed they'd have no choice but to fight their way through the city, or in his case, sneak through if possible.\n\nAs Ochre finished his explanation, ending with, of all things, an offer of getting them something to drink, Abstral closed his eyes briefly and sighed. Ochre was certainly a noble being and his situation complicated, but Abstral had come here, among other reasons, to help those who might require it, and so that he would indeed do. He did have questions, but he could sense that Ochre was waiting to elaborate further, and so said questions could wait until later.\n\n```\"This is a lot of information to take in, though I am of course thankful that you are divulging as much as you can to us despite your disposition, your help in general is greatly appreciated. I assure you I will do everything within my power to assist and free you and your compatriots from this tyrant, peacefully of course, as well as try my hardest not to slay any others that we may come up against. \n\nOh, and yes, tea would be delightful, thank you.\"```" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Eventually, the bandit would lower the intense lock of eye-contact in judging Ochre's trustworthiness to a slightly lower level in seeing the extreme relief escaping his stoic body for their agreement seemed to be the only ray of sunlight in the dark, bitter snowfield that resided outside of the respite. Though he'd keep a watchful eye as Ochre explained the most secretive of matters to the two; the bandit seeming to have furthered his agreement by silently putting pen to paper, organizing his thoughts across the page in a disorganized matter that made the most sense to him.\n\nFirst was the clarification to Abstral's query which, eventually, would also satisfy some of the bandit's concerns as well. The heir, in his explanation, would hold his left hand in the warm light of the respite; in it revealed a peculiar wedding ring, one that bound him to Tvotkei's whims, brimming with a blue light — A familiar one at that, the Hero of the First Floor recalling a similar illumination that coursed through the 𝓥𝓮𝓲𝓻𝓸𝓴 𝓡𝓸𝓸𝓽 nearly in the same way it did through the strange material the ring was crafted with. Was it, possibly, a supremely refined method of *Branding* Someone, binding them to a 'divine' oath without the punishment of a root-rotten mind? \n\nThe bandit was unsure, but he was certain about one thing: Although Ochre, and the six other heirs retained their free will so long as it knelt down on by his command, they were ultimately slaves to his bidding. To Kuouo Aiche Dee, it was as equally disgusting to the branding he'd seen first-hand on the floor below them. It robbed them of their *Individuality, and they were fully aware whilst being initiated into the tyrant's harem, threatened with their demise if they didn't comply. Although it disgusted him, it only emboldened his conviction to overthrow the tyrant, even as Ochre elaborated once more that doing so wouldn't allow admission to the next floor due to both the immoral or Divine* Obstacles ahead of them. Though, that wouldn't stop a sudden, unsure idea from being scribbled into the bandit's notebook, should Ochre lack any definite plans himself.\n\n```ini\n[ 1. Similarity of ring to root??? ]\n[ 2. ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇ ▇ ▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇. ]```\n\nOchre would continue, sharing with the two a reason of the respite's existence — To study the other way, to re-unite the floor from the shackles that once again, Tvoktei held the key to. The heir would share a familiar glare with the bandit — In the reflection of Ochre's eyes, the bandit could see two residents of the Ark Who sought the same resolution, two who held the same gleam of determination, hope, respect, and camradarie towards the outsider and his changed ideals. Even if Ochre didn't seem all too sure, indeed...\n\nThere had to be another way.\n\n \nKuouo closed his eyes for a moment, reminiscing on the Root-Crown and the steps taken to achieve the outcome of his curing, taking a deep breath upon finally realizing he had fully undertaken a similar responsibility. During this, Ochre finished his elaboration, ascertaining that nobles, either complicit or actively engaging in Tvotkei's despicable acts; commoners, malleableized by the wickedness of his society; those bound to Tvoktei by forced oath such as Ochre himself; and of course, Tvoktei and the will that's molded the second floor to the way its been for four centuries, were enemies — But even if commoners, nobles, and bound souls alike antagonize the two, the true enemy was none other than Tvoktei himself... Which was all the more reason Kuo had to ensure his blade would not snuff the life of anyone, even if they opposed him with fatal intentions that were not their own.\n\n```ini\n[ 3. Abstral more than likely to deal with ppl on floor, will blend in but I won't >:( hopefully he can help us slip thru cracks in system. ]\n\n[ 4. Still need detailed plan from Ochrae abt how to do this. Will update 4 with plan ]\n\n[ 5. As̶k̶ ̶T̶a̶a̶s̶h̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶-̶ ]\n\nScribble, scribble, scratch, scratch, scratch```\n\nKuouo shook his head, slightly regretting getting in too deep with his notes. He looked up, accepting the offer of tea with a resounding ``\"Hell yeah I do! — Oop, uhh sorry, daheh... Yeah, I'll go ask 'er.\"`` ... To be fair, the snow that gathered on his cloak was beginning to seep through the fabric and melt into freezing water that ran below his fur. Unable to cast the fire magic used to normally keep him dry (due to the respite's unsaid rules), the prospect of a hot drink was quite enticing... Even if it wasn't fireball cinnamon whiskey. Kuouo swiveled around, opening the door to the respite and popping his head out into the cold air.\n\n```fix\n\"Yo, Taash! Must suck standin' in that on and off blizzard! Ochre inside is makin' some hot tea and wants t' know if ya want some! Y'should come on in an' get cozy.\"```\n\nHe quickly stepped back in, shutting the door in front of him. If Taash were to immediately respond by walking towards it, he'd hold it open until she got in. Otherwise, he wanted to ensure the warm air didn't escape the room they were in, closing it on her if she denied the offer or otherwise needed a good moment before coming in.\n\n```fix\n\"So uhh, what kinda tea ya got? Either way, I'm sure it'll be good t' sip on while ya explain how we do all this... Hey, ya don't mind if I take a seat, do ya?\"```\n\nWhilst Ochre prepared the tea, the bandit opted to sit on the floor criss-cross-apple-sauce style, waiting for permission as he did not know the true meaning of what a 'respite' was anyways. As such, he'd stay on the floor until the heir granted him a seat or the tea finished brewing." }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "The atmosphere within the respite suddenly shifted, and for the better. From burdensome duty to a moment of proper respite, Ochre had purposefully pivoted the ambience with a single statement, so as to ease the nerves of his guests and to better prepare them for the time to come. The road ahead would not be easy, and so he would provide what little rest and assistance he could, from within this small tower located so far from home. Such was its purpose, after all; a respite is for rest, and they certainly wouldn't find rest anywhere else.\n\nDespite his looks, Ochre was not averse to serving others. The silver-haired heir of the Moon-Mother paced through the labyrinthine structure of the convolutedly-organized library, his draping robes drifting in a float in the wake of his swift paces through the book-flanked halls. Disappearing into the midst of a less-visited rear sect of the respite, Ochre picked through several of the basic amenities that he had stored deep behind the bookshelves and the candles. Of course, one who had sworn an oath of everlasting life to the Ezer did not actually require such things as food and water, Ochre kept some basic supplies on hand simply for good measure — blankets, gloves, cloaks, as well as shelf-stable foods, and, of course, tea. \n\nTea was a sort of commodity that transcended just nigh of every cultural barrier — even those within the Ark — and whose existence even persevered through the Arue's pursuit of the eternal. In terms of bodily needs, it was truly useless; in terms of cultural expression and luxury enjoyments, however, it might as well have been the single most valuable items to continue existing.\n_ _\n\nOr, at least, that was how Ochre saw it.\n\nWithdrawing a box which had recently been shelved in the rear of the respite — one which, in particular, was granted to him as a rare gift from beyond the Second Floor — Ochre gave a hum of approval as his eyes settled atop the neatly-bundled leaves of fine tea. With a new air of pleasantness now steeping in the atmosphere of the respite, so too would the pleasantness of this tea steep in some freshly-heated water. Ochre began to prepare the drink for the guests." }, { "author": "Taashaa", "message": "The knight beyond the front door of the respite remained with her arms folded and her eyes carefully observant of the vast, dark, and turbulent snowfield that spiraled chaotically before her. The whipping winds that blew past her armored frame did not cause her to flinch, and neither did the biting cold of the silver snow — both she had grown accustomed to, and long ago. Dozens, if not hundreds of years of environmental conditioning would render her practically immune to the frostful shivers that would overcome any other but one who had been born and lived on the Second Floor for so many years.\n\nThe knight's gaze had already shifted to the door before Kuouo had raised his breath to speak, her having caught ear of the latch of the door creaking, and her eyes already firmly settled atop the door as it swung open. As the bandit would offer, she would remain silent for a moment off-cadence with Kuouo's own tempo, and he could almost see her brow raising from beneath her visor, if it were not for the dense, dark atmosphere that now enshrouded the only scarce-moonlit night of the Second Floor. Taash, he says. Ochre must have informed him.\n\n`\"Tea?\"`\n\nTaash questioned, silently, turning to the bandit with arms still folded. \n\n`\"I don't really like it.\"`\n\nShe spoke candidly, and without so much as a shrug of her shoulders. \n_ _\n\nStill, the sound of the knight's armor would speak for her as it clattered at her side, her greaves shifting as she stepped forward; even though she wasn't much a fan of tea, she was still coming in. With insouciance in her gait, the knight stepped into the respite, unfastening the silver blade rested at her right hip, her boots soft in clatter against the fine wood floor of the respite. Ochre had made it indirectly apparent through his invitation that he would prefer her within the respite, and so one could say she complied with his implied request. \n\nResting the slender form of the straightsword in a cradled stance lightly pressed against her forearm and laid atop her left shoulder, the knight would, and perhaps hypocritically, not disarm herself entirely as she entered." }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "Returning with a delicate, yet spacious ceramic teapot whose spout lightly trailed with wisps of steam, Ochre emerged again to the forefront of the library, his right hand clutched to the handle of the pot while his left trailed behind him, swirling with the unmistakable radiance of the arcane. A magicka hued celeste emanated in a subtle glow from his empty left hand, its compelling energies employed to do no more than to telekinetically float the form of several cups of the same set as the ceramic pot which held the tea. Delicately and remotely manipulating the vessels with the magicks that seemed far too refined to be used for such simple tasks, Ochre poured each of the guests a cup of tea without so much as setting a single one atop a table.\n\nTheatrics of a complex magic used for the mundane task of serving tea aside, the heir would ensure that each of the guests were granted their tea, before finally serving himself a cup of the hot beverage, hued a warm light-brown-and-yellow.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚑 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑. 𝙰 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚘. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎.\"```\n\nOchre said with a slight grin and a nod, finally granting a response to the question Kuouo had that he had initially left unchecked. And, true to his words, the tea would taste excellently vibrant — while it was deep, complex, and indeed quite aromatic, it also sprung with a fresh fullness in flavor, akin to ginger, albeit with slightly sweeter undertones. Even unsweetened, it was pleasant to the tongue, and a beverage palatable to all but the most picky of tea-drinkers.\n\nThe air was filled with the richness of the herbs' scent, and so the time was made ripe for a calm, intellectual conversation.\n_ _\n\n_ _\n```cpp\n\"𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜...\"```\n\nOchre spoke declaratively, his tone clear, but held to a lower level of volume, so not to vitiate the guests' enjoyment of their tea. Taking a sip of the refined beverage himself, the heir seated himself at his desk, eyes squinted and hands folded ahead of his mouth. Indeed, despite his outward appearance of youthfulness — appearing to be no more than eighteen to twenty years of human age, at most — Ochre was an aged scholar, if not an Ancient One. He had hundreds upon hundreds of years of not just study, but elaborate planning under his belt, as well. While what was to follow was the boiled-down essence of what was a much more complicated matter of politics and planning, it was by no means a plan born of simplicity; yes, as he had said, it was the culmination of his Life's work.\n\nTo see Tvoktei dethroned, and without spilling a drop of blood.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙰 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍.\"\n\nOchre inhaled, and closed his eyes briefly, softening his tone as to make his following statement less blunt than its raw content presented itself as. He did not intend to thrust such weightiness on them so soon, but it was a necessity to do so. His eyes opened, and so he spoke—\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚘𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍.\"\n\n\"𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚞𝚎.\"```\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚂𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚢 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜' 𝚠𝚊𝚛... 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛.\"\n\n\"𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌. 𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝, 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍...\"\n\n\"...𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝.\"\n\n\"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚘𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗.\"```\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙰𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢-𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚘𝚕. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 — 𝚘𝚛, 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎.\"\n\n\"𝙰 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛? 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎? 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒, 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝?\"```\n_ _\n\nOchre gave a single laugh of ridicule, his brow furrowing, as he took a sip of tea, ever-displeased.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚛-𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.\"\n\n\"𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕...\" Ochre spoke, squinting at the two guests within the respite.\n\n\"...𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒. 𝙰𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒, 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.\"\n\n\"𝐀 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐭𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭.\"```" } ]	845	10,011
2,220.714286	2022-06-28	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral remained where he stood as their host went to retrieve the tea. He nodded as he saw the knight Taash join them. \n\nHe grabbed the cup of tea as it floated over to him. He tasted it, he wasn't a fan of more watered down drinks like tea, preferring coffee or some sodas that humans liked, but even he had to admit, this tea tasted quite good.\n\nHe looked up from his cup as Ochre began to once again elaborate on his plan for them to dethrone Tvoktei.\n\nMost of the terminology went over his head, as he was of course, not from here, and hadn't the slightest idea what a \"Knights of Sol\" Or an \"Arueian court\" Was, but he nonetheless listened.\n\nAh, so he was planning for them to make their moves during a ceremony / war meetings hosted by the tyrant himself. Abstral supposed striking while the tyrant was busy would be a wise move, they'd draw less attention and eyes that way if they were focused elsewhere.\n\n\n```\"Ah, so strike while the iron is hot, so to speak, huh? Smart. This event, will it draw many eyes away from us? Though I suppose once we arrive, all eyes would be On Us anyway.\"```" }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuo twisted his head back, sharing a childish smile with Taash, seemingly appreciative of the hospitable enviornment he was offered and glad to see the knight out of the cold, even if like him, it didn't affect her as much. Although tea wasn't a frequent beverage Kuouo indulged in, the aroma itself was flavorful and fulfilled the whole cozy library aesthetic, further enticing the bandit for his cup. Soon enough, Ochre would meticulously serve the tea, displaying a masterful control of telekenesis for the simple task. Stemming from a world that actively encouraged the practical use of magic in day-to-day life, the bandit wouldn't think much of it and instead would eagerly partake in the tea carefully levitated towards him. \n\nSssssiiiiipppp...\n\n\n\n\nHrrmmm...\n\nThe tea was even better than the wonderful smell it advertised itself to be, but it could definitely use a rise in temperature. Weeeeelllllllllll, Seeing as Taash still had her weapon Technically Drawn, the bandit would silently cast a wrapping of flame between the porcelain and palm of his left paw, displaying his own mastery of his magic as the wisp of steam suspiciously grew more into a plume compared to the others served in the room — \n\n\nHm?\n\n\n```bash\n\"𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚑 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑. 𝙰 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚘. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎.\"```\n\n\nKuouo raised an eyebrow, like if there were pieces of a puzzle in front of him with no reference to the picture whatsoever. Something about that was extremely Odd, But he couldn't put his finger on it. It was, after all, 'just some time ago' since their expedition on the first floor. Kuouo gazed up at Ochre, while comfortable, the atmosphere shifted from one of pure relaxation towards one holding thoughtful conversation with the heir ready to resume the elaboration of their plans. For now, Kuo would put his off-topic question on hold as it was only a curiosity at best.\n\n. . .\n\nIt seemed the happy comfort that previously enveloped the bandit would shift into one of unease at the start of Ochre's conversation, however. Once again, the sin of his retaliation against the gold-and-brass clad knights took the centerpoint of conversation. Whether or not Ochre knew the true cause to their demise was undetermined...\n\nBut whether or not the heir knew the true reasoning of their deaths, it wouldn't matter as the consequences had already been put into effect. Tvoktei was in the midst of planning a devious seizing of the first floor. A plan that put all of the bandit's valiant efforts in the Vektet so far in jeopardy.\n\nOn top of that, the Sovereign concealed its true purpose with a disrespectful facade. Kuouo stood up, chugging down the glass of scalding hot tea in one gulp before walking down to the nearest table and firmly setting his paws down on it — He nearly slammed it, but hesitated just enough to be within the boundaries of the respite's current atmosphere. His glare, brow already furrowed, sharply turned back to Ochre. The more and more he learned of this Tvoktei, the more it became Personal.\n\n```fix\n\"Then we haven't a damn moment t' lose. I'm not sure how things are goin' with the first floor right now, but I'm sure it's a lot... 'specially since their guardian was revealed t' be Aazkue and all. Either way, I'm gonna do everything t' ensure this asshole doesn't even SEE the first floor.\"```\n\nKuo shut his eyes, tilting his head downwards with a fiery, almost angry smile cracking on his face.\n\n```fix\n\"What's this vulnerability y'have in mind? And how are we gonna use this crack in the system to its fullest extent?\"```" }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢,\" He spoke, before turning to Abstral, responding to his concern,\n\"𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍.\"\n\n\"𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢; 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗'𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚕.\"```\n\nOchre expounded, his silver eyes caught in the reflection of the tea atop his desk. With a slight squint, he folded his hands atop the desk, closed his eyes, and took a brief pause, so to coordinate his thoughts. Indeed, he had sketched a general plan for a coup and elaborated upon it over the past hundred years, and so too did he hold powerful, if a little rough, methods to intertwine this plan with the ceremony of obsequies. Still, despite this planning, Ochre needed a moment to resurface each and every facet of this delicately-organized plan, and a further pause solely to put it all into words.\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜.\"\n\"𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚜 — 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚜𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒'𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚠 — 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝙰 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚎-𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒, 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖, 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒 𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜.\"\n\n\"𝙸𝚗 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢, 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒.\"```\n_ _\n\nSo he elaborated. This Was the shield that Tvoktei had forged. A shield built of oaths and of manipulation — indeed, what Ochre spoke of mirrored Vaazva's account to Kuouo. Tvoktei, the tyrannical Sovereign of the Second Floor, had established his rule on the backs of slaves, and secured it with the might of the unconsenting. It was physically impossible for them to challenge his rule in person, and politically impossible through the adversity of Tvoktei's careful control and corruption of the minds of the many. The commonfolk swallowed the poison of his agenda without cause nor capability to deny it, and the nobility, in fear for their livelihoods, followed after his every step and command, guided as sheep to further his pleasure and his desire to Conquer. The rest — the rare, dissenting few, and the especially troubled members and rightful heirs within the Lunar Harem — were bound only to helplessly watch their society and culture be trampled before their very eyes.\n\nThough they had not met him in person nor even seen his face, every account and every known factor of Tvoktei's character painted him as the most despicable man to exist within the entirety of the Ark. The despicability of a degenerate soul seemed to hold no bounds; yet even a man's natural draw toward sin was inadequate to fuel a man to go this far. There seemed a greater light of ambition behind what he did, and what drove him to this point was left a wonder.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗.\"```\n_ _\n\nWhile Ochre did not openly show it, he found a strangeness in what he had described. Conveniently Was a key-word. Tvoktei seemed so wary of moving beyond the inner quarters, lest he would have already taken initiative and commanded Ochre himself into deeper obedience. For him to, now, up and leave from that safety, granted quite a valid reason for Ochre's suspect.\n\nHe squinted, and sighed slightly under his breath.\n\nIf Tvoktei planned to employ some sort of gambit, Ochre would simply have to calculate beyond it. Far, far, far, far beyond it.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜,\" He spoke determinedly, shattering what faint figments of doubt might have displayed themselves on his face in his sigh earlier,\n\"𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒, 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.\"```\n\n`You may expect me to cling to the shadows, Tvoktei—`\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚊 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖, 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎.\"```\n\n`—but you've underestimated my pride.`\n\nOchre grinned.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝑰𝒏 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝑰 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆.\"\n\n\"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝙸 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛.\"```\n\nAs Ochre made such a bold declaration, he placed his hand atop the book still rested on his desk. \n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙱𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢𝚝𝚑. 𝙰 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗, 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠.\"\n\n\"𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢,\" He spoke, lifting the book to read its contents. He, as if in second-nature, turned to a very particular page within its silver binding, his eyes of matching color resting atop the words written unquestionably in black.\n\n\"𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊'𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 — 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊 𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗.\"```\n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝, 𝚒𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗-𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊. 𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚢 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚐𝚘.\"\n\n\"𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒. 𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖, 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙱𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚢𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢.\"```\n_ _\n\nOchre's plan was bold, even going so far to tread into the territory of the divine to meet an ends. He would blur the line between the possible and impossible, bridging the gap between fact and myth with this borderline-outrageous yet strangely-plausible plan of his. To make it into a reality, however...\n\n```cpp\n\"𝙸𝚝 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚢. 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑.\"\n\"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚙, 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞?\"```\n\nThe heir questioned, as if challenging, his smile still present on his otherwise stoic face, so to provoke their determination from within. \n_ _\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚘𝚔𝚔𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙴𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚒𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖. 𝚁𝚎𝚞𝚔, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚖. 𝙰𝚗𝚍, 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕...\"\n\n\"𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚒𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖, 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚑-𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚝𝚎𝚒.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸; 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕.\"\n\n\"𝚂𝚘 𝙸 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝, 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎.\"\n\n\"...𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗, 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.\"```\n_ _\n\nSo he spoke, taking a final sip of his tea, before moving into the penultimate stage of his explanation. His eyes briefly closed, and he rested his chin atop the intertwined fingers of his left and right hand, supporting his head upright, just above the desk before himself.\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚊𝚊𝚜𝚑. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎?\"```\n\nA polite question; a request, and one which he asked her to fulfill before he had even made the words of its nature known. And yet, without a moment of hesitation, following through—" }, { "author": "Taash", "message": "`\"Yes.\"`\n\n—an immediate response of affirmation. She didn't need to know what he was requesting. Because she, through the many years she stood at Ochre's side, knew: This rare request would push forward their dream." }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "```cpp\n\"𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢,\"\n\"𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍.\"\n\n\"𝙸𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝚘𝚏 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚎.\"```" }, { "author": "Taash", "message": "`\"Sure.\"`\n\nThe knight nodded with a slight grin beneath her visor, slinging her sheathed sword over her left shoulder." }, { "author": "Ochre", "message": "So his gaze shifted to the outsiders and the guests to the respite, and he spoke:\n\n```cpp\n\"𝚃𝚊𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.\"\n\n\"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝚂𝚑𝚎, 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚢.\"```\n\nStanding tall and proud from behind the desk, the heir swiftly paced through the library, retrieving a cloak from a rack, slinging it over his shoulder with the swiftness of his determination in his long-strided gait. \n\n```cpp\n\"𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢. 𝚆𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.\"```\n\nOchre spoke in a general declaration, not only directing his words toward Kuouo and Abstral, but so too Himself And Taash. The two had remained within this respite for... How many years, now?—in rest and planning. Now was finally the time to set their long-planned orchestrations into motion. Now, finally, they could seek Freedom.\n\nPreparing to make his way outside the respite, he would spare only a moment to wait for the responses of his guests, before making his way to the long voyage ahead of himself. There were likely to be a few questions left to be asked, and he would certainly answer them — though, the sooner they were to depart, the better." } ]	504	15,545
725.333333	2022-07-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral nodded at Kuouo's reply before following Ochre out of the respite, putting the hood of his cloak up the protect against the cold.\n\nAbstral listened in as Ochre filled them in on one of the vital end goals of this plan, to get this Cherei to go into this sacred pond no matter how so that she could take royal status.\n\n\n\nThey had only the Knight, Taash, to guide them now and as she ushered them on towards the wall, Abstral spoke.\n\n```\"Ahem, forgive me for stopping us so soon, madam, but I could not help but hear that in speaking about making this Cherei go into this sacred pond, that if worse comes to worse, we'd have to forcefully take her there. If this is to become necessary I believe I can be of service.\"```\n\nAbstral stopped, holding his hands apart and focusing as a white chain began materializing from the space between his hands.\n\n```\"One of my many abilities is to create magical, but still tangible, chains, and I have indeed had to use them for means of subduing foes in the past. If needed, I can use them to bind and capture this Cherei so we can take her to this holy pond without knocking her out, which is what I'm sure was originally meant by \"Incapacitating her\". \" ```\n\nTo demonstrate, Abstral flicked his right hand towards his left arm, the chain expanding and flying to wrap around his left arm as he drew his right hand in a circle.\n\n```\"I can only keep the chains summoned for a few minutes however, that is but the only drawback.\"``` \n\nHe said, unsummoning them of his own volition." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Despite the bitter winds that rushed in through the open doorway, a flaming determination burned within all inside the respite. And although doubtfulness and the prospect of failure seemed to also share the horizon of a free Second Floor, the door was already open with their plans set in motion. There was absolutely no turning back now.\n\n. . .\n\nOchre, ready to act on his half of the mission, quickly answered the bandit's question before bidding farewell, designating Taash to fill in the finer details of their mission. The heir took a few steps outside of the respite, exposing the bandit to a familiar, yet equally-as-strange arcane darkness — a peculiarity shared with VAazva during their last few moments on the First Floor. Taash, in a similar fashion, would cast a shroud of darkness around herself as well, allowing enough space for the two to follow and share the cloak as they began their voyage towards the wall. Due to Ochre's haste, Abstral was unable to demonstrate his own plans if their initial plan failed but still took care in explaining it to the other two he shared company with.\n\n```fix\n\"That's actually kinda neat an' all, but I gotta say, y'shouldn't rely on that plan all too much. It's good t' have, don't get me wrong, but the Vektet has some of the strangest magic I've seen inna good while. Everyone 'ere from bar owners t' alchemists t' the actual knights are far above normal human strength an' what not. This Cherei bein' the first heir is more than likely indicative of a long fight if it comes t' it...\"```\n\nKuouo rises his brow, almost if reminded about something.\n\n```fix\n\"Speakin' of, o' course, I ain't gonna try t' fight against these guys if I don't have to, buuut, Ochre was talkin' about a couple possible roadblocks 'r rather three heirs in the Lunar Harem.\"```\n\nHe said, referring to Tokko, Eo, and Reuk.\n\n```fix\n\"And so ya know, granted the possibility of not rationalizin' with them, if worse comes t' worst, what could we be expectin' Taash?\"```" }, { "author": "Taashaa", "message": "Taash's pace through the snowfield was fast, but not too fast so to be impossible to keep up with. The knight was — despite her lack of display toward such prowess — indeed superhuman, as many in the Ark Were. It would be no surprise if she were capable of going even twice as fast as her current pace, yet the knight was apparently burdened by something. It wasn't the snow, and neither was it her armor; it seemed that manifesting the tenebrous of the Waning Crescent, itself, harbored some sort of inhibition on her physical capacity.\n\nNonetheless, the pearl-clad knight continued to tread through the snowfield without hesitation. The darkness which clung to her figure extended outward, and engulfed even Abstral and Kuouo, enshrouding them both in the nigh-invisibility that Ochre had earlier demonstrated. What the heir spoke was true: his ability was likely the greatest amongst the Harem's to evade Cherei's greatarrows of silver.\n\nThey could proceed through the snowfield, uncontested by anything except the natural elements.\n\n`\"Wouldn't hurt to have around.\"`\n\nTaash responded rather briefly to Abstral's demonstration, only briefly peeking her shoulder to see what sort of magic he was performing.\n\n`\"But I wouldn't rely on it.\"`\n\n`\"Cherei...\"`\n\n_ _\n\nThe knight's glare shifted upward, toward the vast wall which they approached. Atop it, at its apex, and positioned directly over the gate, there was a glint of silver light. A light that could be seen even beyond the blizzard and even beyond the darkness which shrouded them — a light of that insurmountable guardian, whose cold nature was like that of the Full Moon's...\n\n\n\n`\"...Is a monster.\"`\n\n\n\n\nThe statement was blunt, yet honest, and held suppressed, subtle traces of nervousness within its articulation. Taash's voice rang with such a sentiment that it felt as though she spoke from experience. Her hand clutched tight the sheath of her blade, and a lingering moment of silence contrastingly proceeded her swift answer of Abstral's demonstration. A moment was allowed for naught but the sound of wind and snow beneath their feet as a response to Kuouo's question; she did not speak a word for moments on end.\n_ _\n\nCherei's mentioning roused a faint, and purposefully concealed tendencies of discomfort within the knight's demeanor.\nStill, Kuouo's question was valid, and it could not be left answered, if she sought for him to be a worthwhile co-conspirator in their plan of insurrection. As the three grew imminent in their approach toward the great wall, Taash finally gave an answer to his question after an awkward interval.\n\n`\"Tokko shouldn't be an issue.\"`\n`\"She's not an enemy to our ideology. She's obstinate and distastes the nobility, but she's a fair judge.\"`\n`\"She probably spites Tvoktei as much as he does. That Ochre.\"`\n\n`\"Reuk is less forgiving.\"`\n`\"I don't know anything about her besides what Ochre has said in passing remark, but she's unpleasant.\"`\n`\"'Driven by vengefulness'. That's what he said.\"`\n`\"But that vengefulness is directed toward Tvoktei.\"`\n`\"I would prefer for Ochre to talk to her, instead. But we don't have a choice.\"`\n`\"Try to be reverential. She's a volatile person.\"`\n`\"If she becomes a problem, we won't be fighting her. Her blessing of Luna manipulates death. It won't end well.\"`\n`\"She won't be easy to persuade. Still, she won't side with the Sovereign.\"`\n\n`\"Eo may be the biggest issue.\"`\n`\"She's very odd, and she's said to have an obsession with Tvoktei.\"`\n`\"Not many people directly interact with her, so she's an enigma.\"`\n`\"I don't think persuading her will go very smoothly, but she should at least understand that we're not trying to kill Tvoktei.\"`\n`\"I don't know what her blessing entails. The Waning Gibbous' ability is ill-recorded. I don't doubt that I could best her in combat, though.\"`\n_ _\n\nThe knight's descriptions were neither grand nor exceptionally detailed, and yet they were serviceable. Since Taash was going to be operating alongside them, whatever further information they needed, she could provide — she simply didn't find it necessary to go beyond rudimentary descriptions. Talking was indeed not in her nature, and especially not talking about other people, specifically.\n\n\n\n— \n\n\n\nThe three arrived at the great wall. Offset quite some distance east from its central gate, it seemed an impossibility to travel beyond it — there were no cracks, no holes, no secret entries, and no tools for them to use. To go over, it was a precarious, thirty-meter climb on a mostly-smooth surface, in the midst of a blizzard, with one of their members being clad in full plate armor. An impossibility. There was, here, no physical means to travel beyond the wall.\n\nMagically, However...\n\nThe blessing of tenebrous that enshrouded Taash's, Kuouo's, and Abstral's bodies dissipated, before honing itself around the knight's left hand. She released the grip of her sheathed blade, and pressed her palm firmly against the wall, seemingly preparing a sort of spell that employed the strange, miraculous, and dark energies of the shadowy blessing. Peering over her shoulder, she stared from beyond her visor toward Kuouo and Abstral, and curtly spoke:\n\n`\"Stand against the wall.\"`\n*`\"This will hurt.\"`*\n\n...She spoke, rather forebodingly, as she clenched and unclenched her left hand, before pacing around and behind the two, with them inbetween her and the wall. She awaited their preparation, staring intently in her brief pause before proceeding with the plan." } ]	481	2,176
716.333333	2022-07-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Abstral", "message": "Abstral's face briefly darkened as both of his companions shot his plan down, Taash barely even regarding him, though they did make good points, he supposed, the bandit especially,\n\nHe peered at the massive wall they were now approaching and listened as Taash filled them in more about the major adversaries they would face.\n\nThis Tokko would be easiest to convince, hating Tvoktei but being a fair and just person all the same, which Abstral could respect.\n\nReuk could be a dangerous enemy to both parties due to her need for vengeance and volatile nature.\n\nAnd finally this Eo would seemingly be the most loyal of the trio to Tvoktei and the hardest to convince, even Taash seemingly knew vary little about her.\n\nHow wonderful.\n\nAbstral was snapped out of his thoughts by nearly colliding with Taash as they finally made it to the Great Wall. His brow furrowed, it seemed there was no way beyond this wall, unless they could fl-\n\nAs quickly as he thought that, Taash made her move, taking the energy field around them into her hand and seemingly to be about to do some kind of spell, ordering them to stand against the imposing wall and warning them of the pain that whatever she was about to do would bring.\n\nAbstral spoke very quickly and pointedly. \n\n```\"Dangerous volatile foes that we may not even manage to sway to our side and strange magic. This is indeed nothing out of the ordinary for me.\"``` He muttered sarcastically, mostly to himself, though the others likely could hear him.\n\nHe stood against the wall as ordered, waiting for Kuouo to do the same so that Taash could get them past this wall, however she intended to do so." }, { "author": "kuouo", "message": "Kuouo would have no issues keeping up with Taash, relieved that Abstral could do the same as to not inhibit their progression through the snowfield. While he did not know the exact drawback of the arcane darkness that enshrouded the trio, he could sense that it prevented Taash from using her full potential in speed — that, or the armor was a lot heavier than it appeared, but he doubted such. However, just as promised, the tenebrous led them through the snowfield without as much as a glaring set of eyes weighing on their shoulders. It left the bandit impressed and thankful, as it even allowed Taash a moment to further elaborate on the enemies — No. The bandit shook his head, Ochre's words reminding him that while they may face threats and possible antagonism, — yes, even the 'monster' that seemingly shook even the likes of Taash — they were not the true enemies. The bandit raised an ear, listening closely to Taash's introverted-like blunt explanations as they quickly approached the wall...\n\nFirst was Tokko, duly noted by the bandit as the Princess of Commons. She too, most likely shared a burning determination with Ochre to overthrow the Sovereign. With a 'distaste for nobility', Kuo noted that she and the disheveled goat might strike a similar chord.\n\n```fix\n\"Sounds easy t' talk t' her. If she's got the same ideology as Ochre an' the rest of us, then rationalizin' this offer with 'er was justa long time comin'. I think I'll talk t' her first about it.\"```\n\nSecond was vengeful Reuk, the Waning Gibbous. Described by Taash as a volatile person, and one that must be spoken to with reverence. Although she may harbor a burning anger towards Tvoktei as well, they had to walk on eggshells when speaking to her, lest they wanted to experience her lunar blessing firsthand. Upon hearing the fact she could manipulate death itself, the bandit could be heard gulping just the slightest. Not the greatest cards to be dealing with, that one.\n\n```fix\n\"Ehrm, say Abstral, yer pretty good with words, right? Y'sound kinda posh and blend right in. I think you'd be best t' speak with Reuk. I'd hate t' say somethin' informal and instantly turn int' dust, daheheh, heh...\"```\n\nLastly was Eo, the Third Quarter and High Priestess of the Sanctum, reverential of Tvoktei and just an all-around wildcard. There was not much to go off of, no explanation of her blessing nor personality barring her obsession with the Colorless Sovereign.\n\n```fix\n\"I guess we'd jus' have t' wait and see what talkin' to her would entail, though if she's obsessed with the dude, then yeah, that might an issue when she hears us... Explainin' mutiny an' all. Whatever the case may be, it's important that she doesn't spread word to Tvoktei, so be prepared for a fight.\"```\n\nIndeed, while Taash's explanation wasn't all too vivid, it'd serve greatly to lay the bandit's groundwork for moving forward, allowing him to think more on it before finally approaching The Great Wall.\n\n. . .\n\nStanding well-over the height of the Great Wall of the now Decimated China, the bandit couldn't help but stare upwards slightly in awe. Well-constructed and tall in length, the bandit couldn't possibly figure out a way of penetrating its defense without garnering attention to himself — and that's just without the others in tow. The darkness suddenly shrunk back into Taash's palm before ordering the two to stand against the wall, warning that whatever manner of getting in she had in mind Will Hurt. Unafraid of the physical consequences this would inflict on them, Kuouo stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Abstral, awaiting whatever magic Taash planned to cast upon them.\n\n```fix\n\"Lay it on us, Taash.\"```" }, { "author": "Taashaa", "message": "Taash hardly gave a visible response to the two's individual responses toward her explanations, but such a lack of visible reaction could probably be attributed to the fact that they couldn't openly see her face. While her eyes subtly reflected the faint light of the eternal Full Moon overhead, and while she clearly stared at the two, it was truly hard to gauge the knight's demeanor — it wasn't just hard to see her face, it was also hard to get a read on her, in general. Perhaps it was due to her time in proximity around the ever-stoic Ochre, or perhaps it was simply due to her own history as a knight, but Taash only rarely seemed to wear her emotions on her visage. \n\nPeculiar, but she didn't mind if people thought of her as strange, or socially distant.\nAs she took a cold breath in, she could only think of one thing she really cared about, anyway—\n*Freedom.\n\n`\"...\"`\n`\"It's not going to be pleasant.\"`\n\nThe knight again warned, yet found it to, nonetheless, be a necessity to proceed with whatever sort of painful spell she had prepared to get them beyond the great wall. Her eyes squinted, and, with the dread of anticipation in her approach's wake, she rather intimidatingly stepped forward, toward Abstral first — who she assumed would have the less dramatic of reactions as she went forward with the process — extending her tenebrous-clutched left arm toward the man stood opposite her. \n\nHer gloved left hand slowly, and without harmful intent extended up and toward the outsider's face, before pressing against it, softly pushing his head against the wall. The blackness of the dark, miraculous energy that crept forth from her hand enveloped his head and blackened his sight, and the spot which she had earlier prepared too was consumed by the amorphous darkness of the Waning Crescent's blessing. \n_ _\n\nNow it seemed as though Abstral and the small portion of the wall behind him had both been transmogrified into a sort of insolid, murky mass, either's state shifted by the properties of the manifest blessing. The process initially would feel like no more than Abstral was being lowered into a deep pit of mud, but as he was pushed further and farther into the depths of the darkness, it felt as though he was slowly being Crushed.\n\nIt wasn't the type of sensation that would cause one to howl out in panic, but neither was it a pleasant experience in the slightest; it was greatly pressuring, and brought forth a type of pain that would make one grimace, while not being so severe as to cause him to scream. The terrible slowness of the process would expound on this unpleasantness, however, and it seemed like he was sinking into the crushing depths of the wall for minutes on end, when truly it had only been a matter of about fifteen seconds before he suddenly emerged on the other side.\n\nAs the first of the two had been transported beyond the wall, Taash furled and unfurled her left hand, taking a deep breath in as she, herself, recovered from the magical expenditure requited of her to utilize her shared blessing in such a complicated sort of way. The Waning Crescent's manifest tenebrous was not her own; it was borrowed from Ochre, and to kindle the embered vestiges of such a potent blessing donated unto her was no easy task.\n_ _\n\nPacing ahead of Kuouo, she briefly stared to confirm his readiness, before softly continuing in like manner as to how she put Abstral through the wall. In fifteen seconds, identical to Abstral, and with both great discomfort and as much swiftness as the knight could muster, he, too, would be transported beyond the great wall. Only a short moment of wait would proceed Taash's transporting of Kuouo beyond the wall, and her own manifestation beyond it — hers would take a little more time, however, seeing as none had stayed behind to push her. She would have to manifest all the forward thrust herself, and, as much as it was unpleasant for the other two, all-the-more it would be for Taash, herself.\n\n The knight could handle this much burden without faltering, however. Steadfastness is a powerful virtue sought by all honorable individuals of her creed.\n\n`\"Let's go.\"`*\n\nNot a moment of hesitation, and the knight set her sights forward —" } ]	864	2,149
325.4	2022-06-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "aa", "message": "`Swirl...`\n\nThe dark, arcane energy, allowed to advance in its spherical encroachment about the two, takes a more stable and tangible state, its swirling formlessness consolidating into a smooth, deep, and solid black. The spherical apparition further reinforced with the murky arcane energy that trickled forth from the enchanted weapon, and following the completion of its final stage of its manifestation, the spherical domain of the quarterstaff had been complete — they now stood bounded within the midst of the energy's hollow wake, the sight and sound of the wind and swirling snow about themselves obstructed and deafened by the nebulous black barrier. The winds were silenced, and there was a deathly still in the domain, in the midst of which only one sound could be heard—\n\n`ʳⁱⁿᵍ`\n\n—the quiet ring of a muted chime, accentuated by the untouched silence of the empty domain. Like the echo of something that persisted for a longing for what once was, the dull ring of the chime reflected and reiterated, its reverberating tone growing distant as it gradually faded into the obscurity of the surrounding darkness. The guardian's visible gaze of a single glowing point endured in its focus on the outsider opposite itself, and it stared with unclear intent.\n\n\n\n\n`\"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.\"` \n\n\n\n\nThe guardian spoke, with a swift, snappy, and audible twirl of the obsidian-hued quarterstaff rested ahead of itself, effortlessly shifting the rod into a two-handed combat stance, either thumb directed aft to the forwards-pointed end of the staff, as if to suggest a wielding style that solely utilized poking blows.\n_ _\n\nAnd in the sentence that should have revealed its intent toward the outsider, it broke the tension that focused on itself, and instead redirected it toward the outsider. Its head tilted slightly, as it still stood with its right arm extended forward, still pointing unflinchingly at the Rook.\n\nWhat is it that you want?" }, { "author": "ROOK", "message": "The Rook nods as the sphere is allowed to continue its attempt at sealing the pair off, he continues waving – again, not making any moves to suggest he is planning nothing more than to simply talk.\n\nIt seems that, in allowing the orb to take form, The Rook's naivety is rewarded. Even as the knight swings into a combative stance, The Rook remains steadfast and unthreatening; unwilling to take part in combat if the choice is presented. Besides, The Rook towers over this defender at just Barely Under double their height, with the weight of the armor to vouch for it. Built to be a tank.\n\nThe hulking figure stood before the guardian smiles under his helmet, although they would be most unlikely to actually see said facial expression. The Rook tilts his head to listen in on the comments made about him by the seemingly friendly knight. \"What is a demeanor? Is that a kind of food that they make here?\" He questions, confirming through proxy that, yes, The Rook is not from this floor at the very least. \"What is this the Gate to?\" He queries further, before dialing it back a bit to explain what was going on.\n\nThe Rook watches as the knight taps itself in the head, posture shifting to show a bit of confusion before he nods slowly in agreement of being unable to hear a single word that was uttered. \"Your stick is very cool.\" He repeats, trying to be respectful.\n\nThe guardian points at him with its hand, asking a very simple question. Why is The Rook here? What does he need?\n\n_ _\nThe Rook points up at the wall, taking a very big guesstimate on where the archer actually was and simply replies with what's going on. \"When I came to this floor, a big arrow hit the ground and I got scared. What I am looking for is just shelter; or if you could politely ask the person to not shoot me?\" He asks, still not taking an aggressive position while maintaining his naive tone. The problem with ambiguity is that The Rook sees things black & white. You are either attacking or not attacking. Of course, this knight isn't attacking, and The Rook can very much appreciate that. This way of thinking is, of course, why The Rook is usually paired with the Bishop or someone else." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "Cumhall continued to walk forward with little urgency, observing the encounter between The Rook and the mysterious guardian but giving them a wide berth, moving around them in a spherical motion he would eventually reach the wall.\nHe gazed up at the dizzying height, placing one hand upon the wall he drew his fingers across the surface, there were definitely hand holds but they were far too spaced out to climb.\n\nHe gazed over his shoulder to the dark sphere that now encompassed the 2, The Rook would be fine.. Probably.\nHe stepped back from the wall and spoke to the drone, thankfully his voice would be carried digitally and so the deafening winds would be no hindrance.\n```diff\n- \"Hempen Maneuver\" -\n```" }, { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone trilled and spun, detaching a rope from the Chumall's pack and flying up high into the air, the winds aggressively buffeted the drone, it spun and extended its propeller like legs for stability as it climbed the immense height of the wall.\nAs it summit the wall it began to frantically zip along its length, searching through low visibility and strong winds for somewhere to attach the rope.\nIt would find such purchase in the fortifications above the gate, tying it down and allowing it to fall down, the rope flailed around wildly in the wind and the drone had to hold it taught, in the end it only stretched about halfway down the wall meaning Cumhall would have to make up the difference." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "He stepped back from the wall a good 10 metres, cracked his knuckles, rolled his joints, stretched his limbs, then broke into a sprint, and as he ran the strange square pack hummed and whirred as if something inside was powering up.\nHe closed about half the distance towards the wall then leaped off the ground, it wasn't an impressive leap, only a about a foot off the ground, but it was as he was midair that small flaps on the bottom of the pack opened and-\n*-VWOOSH-\nA blast of blue energy shot out melting the snow below him in an instant and rocketing him up a good 10 metres, the pack was not powerful enough for sustained flight and so as he impacted the wall he began to slide down, his cybernetic right arm scraping the stone until they found purchase, supporting his entire body weight on only his fingertips.\n\nHis hands and feet scrambled frantically looking for holds, which he found eventually, perched about 7 metres above the ground on fragile unsecure holds, the only respite was thay the wind was not so severe with his stomach to the wall. He breathed heavily, more out of stress than effort, the pack did not need much time to cool in the freezing weather and so he quickly launched himself back off the wall and-\n-VWOOSH-*\nAgain launched himself up, aiming for the rope but unable to actually see it through the storm, relying solely on the pings of the drone's tracker, his arms scraped down the wall again until he found the rope, it pulled taught as he gripped on and his entire body swung out, then crashed into the wall again with a metallic thud, he gripped the rope with both arms, and with a great effort heaved himself up, placing both feet flat against the wall and threading the rope through a clasp on his belt, he sighed, and started to slowly haul himself up." } ]	399	1,627
335	2022-06-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "As Cumhall overcame the elements and utilized his wit and his skill to successfully scale the side of the vast wall which split the Second Floor into two distinct districts, he would be blown to-and-fro by the terrible blizzard winds, yet his strength and dexterity would reinforce his grip and his footing, allowing him to further pursue his determined ascent. It was by no means viable weather for attempting to perform such an outrageous act; but this entire Mission Was outrageous, was it not? To attempt to scale the wall was no less an affront to common sense than was pillaging a realm that seemed almost divine, or to challenge the monstrous beings which remained in residence of the anomalistic superstructure that was the Vektet.\n\nCumhall had experienced the treacherousness of this vast domain on the First Floor, and witnessed the sheer potency of the challenges that it contained. He had also overcome these challenges, and proved himself worthy to continue pushing forward. This right, he earned. Overcoming this wall, even in this weather, was no obstacle he could not overcome. \n\nNot even the turbulent winter winds would push him off his rope, his impossible scaling of the unfavorably-smooth and unfavorably-cold surface of the wall made a possibility through sheer determination. Finally, his hand clutched something level, and finally, he could pull himself up to the very top of the wall, where lied—\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n```diff\n- 𝔻𝔼𝔸𝕋ℍ -```\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEven despite his skill and determination, he forgot one thing:\n*There was a terrible, terrible being, atop that insurmountable wall." }, { "author": "Emissary Cherei", "message": "__Emissary Cherei.__\n\n\n\n_ _" }, { "author": "ROOK", "message": "\"Oh! I'm sorry.\" The Rook says, swiftly apologizing for any perceived rudeness with a quickened reaction that could only be described as pavlovian, as he bows his head, tilting forward his torso to do so and keeping his arms at his side; if this guardian were royalty, he would of course, have bent the knee at this juncture to add to his sincerity in apologizing.\n\nUpon confirmation that the stick Is* Really cool, The Rook comes back up from the polite bow and nods his head, attentively listening to what follows, having no response to the comment about being odd. If he did, he would be quick to silence himself from speaking. Admittedly, The Rook Is Out of place here, so \"Odd\" Is a fairly descriptive word in this context.\n\nThe chime rings out, dispelling the barrier that protected them from both the snow and the slicing winds that had previously surrounded them, allowing them inwards.\n\nWhat would you do? The Rook seems very, very confused by this sudden turn of events, responding by making a few easy to understand motions with his hands, although they are of course blocked by the bits of snow that now pelt against his armor uninhibited. One to demonstrate the massive Height Difference, and one to demonstrate the Weight Difference, yet still refusing to take a fighting stance until there is truly no turning back. The motions are made ambiguous, as although The Rook has clearly sized the defender up, the motions are not made with ill intent.\n\n His stance remains unmoving. This is a fight that The Rook is thoroughly unwilling to take part in, but if there is truly no other way, even he must cut a loss every once in a while.\n\n_ _\nSo, The Rook answers with honesty, as he had been the whole encounter. \"I do not want to fight you.\"\n\nThe Rook has absolutely no will to fight this battle unless absolutely necessary. Up until just now, they had been having a somewhat friendly conversation after all. That doesn't mean that he would sit down and take it, however.\n\n\"But,\" The Rook swiftly follows up, allowing no room for the guardian to make a comment of his own, \"If you try to kill me, I will defend myself. I do not want to hurt you, and I do not want to fight.\" The Rook concludes, hoping that was enough to de-escalate the encounter." }, { "author": "aa", "message": "The wind whistles, and the guardian's single-eyed silver glare remains unbroken, even beyond the clusters of snow that hurried past one's sightlines of the blinding blizzard. Its nebulously-enchanted quarterstaff remained extended and at-the-ready to attack ahead of itself, the guardian allowing no hurry in its response, instead pausing for a long, lingering moment, in which time itself felt as though it were stopped.\n\nIn its glare, there was nothing determinate; no display of its intent extended beyond its own thoughts, and it seemed that the only reasonable explanation for its silence was that it was weighing the answer given to it. Yet, just as easily as that conclusion could be true, so too was it possible that it was simply dragging out the time between the Rook's words and its follow-up on a predetermined judgment, so to reinforce the impact of its ultimate response. Or, further yet, perhaps it was Testing Him with its silence — the combination of its silence, the uneasiness brought about by its hostile stance, and the uproarious atmosphere of the snowfield could ware on one's patience, which very well could provoke a rash response of either fear or anger. Still, and as a senseless yet simple final alternative, it could be waiting for No reason whatsoever.\n\nThe wind hushes in the wake of the guardian's eerie still. Even lacking the arcane domain of the chime's darkness, it felt as though the snow had ceased to whirl about the two, and that the agitated atmosphere had finally calmed.\n_ _" }, { "author": "ROOK", "message": "The Rook stares dead ahead through the visor of his helmet, awaiting a response that would surely come soon.\n\nIn another life, or if this were someone else in his boots entirely, perhaps the wait imposed upon him would indeed break him should it be a test, yet after all that The Rook has done and seen, learning patience has indeed been a long and fruitful endeavour. One spurred on by that of his employer's wishes.\n\n After what feels like an eternity still, The Rook's response is rewarded with an answer. A thoroughly disappointing one, of course, but an answer nonetheless. The Rook is given that it was not a bad answer.\n\n\"A story. I like stories, too.\" The Rook replies, half mindedly. \"If I go back away I will get shot. That is not a good ending as well.\" He explains.\n\n\"I want to do my task and then leave. I do not want to get shot.\" He continues. \"I know what I would do to stop you from killing me without killing you.\"\n\nThe Rook prepares a demonstration to a knight who likely does not care anymore for such frivolous pursuits, yet he must do this to return home in one piece. He cannot go back into the field.\n\nSo, he straightens up suddenly, letting a rush of energy throughout his suit of armor from his feet and glinting with purple energy. Of course, this does not mean The Rook intends to act upon anything he is about to showcase, leaving the ability ambiguous as to what it would actually do in this situation. The Rook does a stretch before waiting to see if the knight even cares. Perhaps this is how he plans to escape the onslaught of the Emissary above should he be denied a second chance.\n\n\"I can show you that, but I can also tell you a story if you want that instead.\" He offers, really just not wanting to be turned back around, offering anything in his power to do so.\n\n_ _\nAlthough The Rook claims to like stories, this was a horrible suggestion for someone with his memory. When presented with a stage all of a sudden, one might get stage fright, a terrible thing to be on the receiving end of when you're trying to convince a guard to open the gate so that you don't have to get shot at in the cold winter snow.\n\n Think, Rook, think... What story can you talk about?" } ]	342	1,675
294	2022-06-30	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "aa", "message": "`\"𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴, 𝘩𝘶𝘩... 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵.\"` \n\nThe guardian remarked. As the Rook grew closer to the pearl-clad guardian of gate, approaching in such proximity that the guardian had not before allowed him, he could briefly see beyond their visor in the moment that he encroached. Their lips remained in a neutral, if not a little furled position, and their lower face had a most pale color, with an oddly bluish-purple complexion beneath. While he could see no further than the bow of their lips, he could catch sight of what appeared to be a peculiar rawness'of a wound that trailed along the right half of their face — likely the reason for the lack of their right eye's glow.\n\nNonetheless, as the guardian replied, it shifted its grip on the obsidian quarterstaff, and again retrieved with a relative smooth swiftness the black cloth used to bind it, hooking it up and twirling it about the obsidian rod with one of its two blunt ends. The guardian again sheathed the weapon of murky enchantment, 'sheathing' it on its back, leaving both of its armored hands free again.\n_ _" }, { "author": "ROOK", "message": "Oh, I have one of those. He thinks of the scar plaguing the guard's right eye – thankful that his is instead much lower down on his cheek, and indeed stretching across his now-prosthetic eye. Because of this brief train of thought, he reminisces about How exactly he got it, going back as far as seeing that flash of dark brown, before...\n\nThe Rook snaps back to reality, just in time to hear the knight's remark about how thick he is.\n\n\"I don't know what that means.\" He replies, regressing back to his usual unawareness that he used prior to this resolution. Make no mistake, The Rook is Very Stupid. \"Wouldn't having thick skin like armor make it hard to move around?\"\n\nThe Rook closes in on the guard and stops as they place their hand atop its surface, waiting in vain for it to move and feeling the pulse of energy rip through him as they speak. \n\nThis gate doesn't open.\n\nThis statement leaves The Rook with a very silly mental question – if the gate doesn't move, how am I going to go through it?\n\nOh.\n\nOh dear.\n\nIt sets in that this energy is not entirely unfamiliar – he had felt its presence just recently. The presence that reeks only of teleportation, the single worst way to travel.\n\nThe Rook holds up a finger, \"One minute. Let me prepare physically.\" Despite the guardian mentioning a city on the other side, they also mentioned the fact that there would be countless enemies praying for his downfall, of which would certainly be swift should The Rook grow ill upon re-manifesting. He takes a few deep breaths before stepping forward again towards the gate – stopping directly at the guardian's side, resolve renewed.\n\n\"Okay. I think I am ready now.\" He loosens up, ready for a potential onslaught of attacks; energy still retained in his boots should he need to make a getaway." }, { "author": "Cumhall", "message": "```diff\n- \"Shi- fuck- cr-\" -\n```\nCumhall would have made a sarcastic remark about how this was going to be a bumpy ride or, buckle your seatbelt or, something, but he wasn't entirely sure the drone could comprehend a joke, and also he was plummeting from the top of a very high wall. Without a moment to consider his trajectory he activated the jump pack, reversing his momentum in a rather jarring way, he put up his right arm to protect his body and- *BOOM* Snow and rocks kicked into the air as he clipped the corner of the wall, he tried to reach out and grab onto something but his head was spinning and it wasn't long before he felt his momentum reverse again as he fell, crashing into the opposite corner and tumbling over the edge.\n\nHe reached his hand up to his helmet, or well more slapped the side of his head as he fought against the G Force, and pressed a button- turning on noise cancelling to mute the deafening sounds of rushing wind, he didn't have long to compose himself and so one again without looking which way he was headed he activated the jump pack to hopefully slow his fall, at the same time the thrusters on his arm opened up and fired to assist.\n\nHe collided with the ground finally, crashing against it multiple times like a good stone skip on the water, everything went white as his vision was clouded with snow, and he lay limp, breathing laboured breaths." }, { "author": "Morrigan", "message": "The drone had hardly time to comprehend what happened as it was flung from the wall, and then flung back Towards The wall, it was propelled from Cumhall's back like a catapult, flying much higher than him into the snow drift, it fired its thruster, stabilising itself and looking around, only to be met with nothing but white.\nThe harsh winds were making it unsteady, frost was beginning to build up and it was lost, it had no option but to return to the ground and scuttle along towards the gate in hopes it could find its way." }, { "author": "aa", "message": "The two who made their way immediately to the wall now found themselves on the brink of crossing beyond it. \n\nFor the Rook, as he made himself ready, the vast figure of the gate glew alight, and he felt the denseness of an almost divine arcane energy swallowing the surrounding atmosphere of the snowfield. The all-encompassing azure light shifted beyond the figure of the guardian — who held close to the gate, its hand still firmly placed against it — and engulfed the Rook, drowning the white haze of the windy snowfield in a flash of potent azure blue. \n\n`\"𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘢.\"`\n\nThe guardian remarked with a slight wave. In the moment following, the Rook's senses shifted. His surroundings grew distant, as his body was transported on the winds of the deific blue light, `whisking him away to a location quite distant, yet not entirely foreign...`" }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "For Cumhall, however, his crossing of the wall would go much more messily.\n\nThe Emissary's glare did not persist for long on the form of Cumhall as he fell, yet the sharpness of her frigid domain grew ever-sharper as he went against its tides, his momentum shifting to bring him back up and over the wall. Her attention honed on the intruder, and as Cumhall soared beyond, he again felt the sensation of a chill in his spine which overshadowed even that of the wintry blizzard. The arc of his trajectory skipped past what was almost arms-length to the terrifying Emissary bound to night, a harrowing brush with death piercing him to his very soul.\n\nAnd yet, the Emissary would not intercept him.\n\nRather, he was allowed to soar beyond, descending beyond and into the white-and-silver veil of windswept snow, and the fog of frozen moisture that drifted along the tides of the winter wind. The sight of the wall and the Emissary stood atop it grew more and more distant, as sight of her figure grew all but entirely obscured in the flurry of colorless sensation — of blank shades; the winter palette blinded his eyes to that which was behind him, swallowing him whole in the embrace of the obscuring snow.\n\nAll that pierced the veil was two orbs of blue that seemed to encompass the very essence of the Full Moon—\nThe Emissary's glare, peering down at him with clarity through the snow.\n\nThough he had succeeded, Cumhall had incurred something far less than favorable for his continued journey through the Second Floor: the Emissary's knowledge of his continued existence. There was no mistake to be made — she allowed him to travel beyond her, but what would become of him when they again crossed paths?\n\nOnly time would tell. He'd ought to watch his step." } ]	330.5	1,764
367.6	2022-07-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "exousian", "message": "`The cold of winter is replaced with a chill that echoes down one's spine, intimating an almost divine nature as it creeps through one's body.`\n`Trees of an ashen bark jut forth unnaturally from the snowy ground, their branches baring sparse leaves that glow an azure glow — like the stars of the sky, yet utterly distinct in their unique nature.`" }, { "author": "THE RED WEAVER", "message": "...Hhhh.. Hhhh..\n\nHis breathing became thinner and thinner.\n\nDespite what seemed like clarity for a moment, the world was closing around him.\n\n...Hhhhh.. ..Hhhhhh..\n\nWith every step he took, he could feel his lungs start to tear inside. He was pushing his body to it's limit.\n\nBut he wasn't willing to die here.\n\n\nHe finally found a moment to catch his breath, feeling numb on his hands. Surprisingly, the boots he had had just the bare minimum amount of insulation for the muscles at his feet to work. But his hands were starting to hurt. He had stashed the fingers thankfully, but he could no longer really move his muscles, his hands stuck as fists until he could heat them back up again.\n\nHis breathing was getting calmer.\n\nNow that he could clearly think again, he observed his surroundings. He knows this is a tower, but, he couldn't help but feel like he was outside. The environment just seemed all too organic for it to actually be an enclosed area.. Well, all but the trees. He wasn't about to complain however. His home had been forests for the longest times, and he was finally starting to feel familiar.\n\nHe'd survived harsher winters than this, and he's sure he's escaped mightier foes than whatever was out there to get him with those knights. There was just one problem though..\n\n..Where the hell is the exit?!\n\nHe could swear up and down that he went backwards, but there he was, in a forest of all places. Maybe he was outside, and he didn't figure it out just yet. Maybe he's still in the tower but in the process of leaving, and he's about to do the dumbest move of his life! He couldn't tell and it was disturbing him!\n\n..\nBut, the silence in this forest was calming him down. Did he feel safe? Absolutely not, but he felt safer than he did out in the blizzard.\n\n..I'll get you back up and alive again no matter what, ALOIS..\n\n..ALOIS, huh..\n..A being that can be resurrected with just a few body parts..\n...\n..What if the fingers won't work?\n\nIt was, a foolish idea. The red lady very clearly told him that all he needed to take was just a finger or two and bring it back to her. He would be good as new, and his old body would just rot there.\n\n..But it didn't sit right with him. If it didn't work, what would guarantee the body still being there? He could feel something watching him, but it was clearly just observing if he's alive, now in the woods seperated from the blizzard. Still, morbid curiosities of observant beings will push them to toy with their prey, by taking everything from them little by little..\n\n..Including the body.\n\nCould he survive in the blizzard again? He now knows how harsh it is, but it also is a horrible condition to go back to, especially with how he has no actual mobility in the snow with no walking stick..\n\n..Walking.. Stick...\n\n..He is now in the woods of this place, with many, many sticks..\n\nWell it was decided. He was going to go and retrieve the entire body, whether it be a good deed for him or the stupidest thing he could do. He didn't care. If he drops dead here, who would remember him? They could just get someone else to retrieve the wooden kid, and he'd just be another body in the masses.\n\nThankfully, there were an awful lot of sticks in the surroundings because this is a forest with trees and branches on those trees. He doesn't need anything to keep his feet on top of the snow, all he needs is something to maintain his body upright and keep his eyes forward." }, { "author": "exousian", "message": "As the Weaver encroached further and further into the forest encompassed by the deific aura of the ethereal, azure blue glow, the howling winds of the terrible blizzard winter beyond its wooden clutch grew farther and farther, yet were Never Silenced in their entirety. Flickers of snow pierced past the dense underbrush of the tall trees, glittering in their icy whites as they reflected the resplendency of the azure of the living, glowing trees, plaguing still the Weaver with fleeting moments of cold against his flesh. Still, the towering trees of ashen bark provided a sort of shield, and as he advanced deeper into the midst of the strange forest, such faint interpolations would grow ever-sparse, and snow soon grew to be a sight of the past.\n\nThe cold of the winter was replaced with a chill that echoed down his spine. The numbness of cold was replaced with the numbness of dreamlike lucidity, the ever-shimmering sparkles of azure that glowed from the spectral form of the trees' celestial leaves granting the realm of the forest an almost cosmic nature. The harshness of frigid winds was replaced with absolute stillness. And as the snow disappeared, there was, put in its place, the shimmering of white-and-blue starlike apparitions, which drifted through the atmosphere freely as did fireflies. \n\nIndeed, as the Vektet Was an entirely separate realm when compared to Earth, so too was this forest an entirely separate realm when compared to the Second Floor. It was like a realm within a realm; a dream within a dream.\n\nAnd as his feet tread forward, and as his eyes grew accustomed to the sight of ubiquitary blue, and as his flesh grew familiar to the universal stillness, and as his nose adapted to the pervading voltaic scent, he could swear to hear\n\n\n\n\n```\n𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.```\n\n\n\n\n`ʳⁱⁿᵍ`\n`ʳⁱⁿᵍ`\n`ʳⁱⁿᵍ`\n\n\n\n\n\n_ _\n\n`As the muted silver chime thrice rings`\n`the omen's mellow voice so gently sings`\n\n`The prince who was forsaken of kings`\n`here was lost searching of greater things`\n\n`To travel beyond dream's heav'nly springs`\n`all he sacrificed, might he gain 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.`\n\n\n\n\n\n_ _" }, { "author": "Kaareish", "message": "```ini\n[ \"𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕?\" ]``` \n\nLike a voice that called through slumber, the man's voice, as clear and smooth as white crystal, called out to the Weaver.\nMost odd was his sudden appearance, breaking the almost trancelike state of the outsider—\n\n—for he stood upside-down, gravity's pull inverse upon his body, his feet rested atop a branch ahead and above the Weaver." }, { "author": "THE RED WEAVER", "message": "..Who.. Is he?\n\nHe was unresponsive to the person. Him being upside down was the least odd thing he found about him, more that his voice seemed way too divine to be trusted, like a mermaid singing it's song. \nStill, he couldn't help but feel.. Reassured.\nMaybe not everything here wanted to kill him.\n\nThe Weaver simply stopped walking, looking at the person for a moment. He planted the (count 'em) two walking sticks he'd made for himself into the snow, staring back at the ground.\n\n\"I'm.. Alive, aren't I? If that counts as being well..\"\nHis voice had gotten croaky from breathing so much from his mouth, but he could still speak. He cleared his throat.\n\nHis weariness of the place seemed to slowly wither out from his mind. He realised only now the atmosphere of his surroundings. \n\nThis wasn't the same blizzard as out there. It was calm.. Healing of the mind.. A sanctuary.\n\n\"..Where are we?\"" } ]	214	1,838
527.333333	2022-07-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "THE RED WEAVER", "message": "..Sempiternity, huh..\n\nHe didn't understand a damn thing that the person said, mostly because his mind could only focus on rest from exhaustion at this point, but he still took note of the word and his name. It was rude for him if he didn't respond to this one.\n\n\"..I'm the Red Weaver.\" \"..I'm not from this place.\"\n\nHe made it clear with an indirect sentence that he wasn't really supposed to be here. He thought the way back outside from the blizzard was just going backwards from where he went, but..\n\nHe remembered now that something was watching him during that blizzard. He couldn't tell what, but he knew of it's intent just from a gaze. It didn't help with the feeling of impending doom waiting for him. And the kid.. He needed to get back to the kid..\n\n\"..Are you..\"\n\nIt hurt to ask, because it didn't sit right with him to ask something like this to someone who just formerly welcomed him somewhere, but he wanted to know. He wanted at least a death wish to happen in case it were true.\n\n\"Are you going to kill me?\"" }, { "author": "Kaareish", "message": "```ini\n[ \"𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞?\" ] \n[ \"𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎?\" ]```\n\nThe strange, robed man returned a question for a question; a habit of his which many of those who grew associated with him grew to despise. Rarely did he simply give an answer rather than question a question's nature, and even in the few times when he would, actually, give a response, it would, in one way or another, manage to elude a straight response. \n\nWas it because he despised answering others' questions? Was it because he found joy in toying with others, leading people on? Was it to elude forfeiting his knowledge, or to make nebulous his intent? No; none of these, at all. He simply found the nature of questions, to their very core, to be admirable. To pursue knowledge through others, and to sharpen oneself off another's sharpness. He questioned much himself, and to those who questioned him, he replied with questions — that both may gain greater understanding of that which they were truly seeking.\n\nBut now was perhaps an inappropriate time not to give a straight answer.\nStill, he persisted. His peculiar offset of catechism was most burdensome to interact with.\n_ _\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢.\" ]\n[ \"𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎?\" ]```\n\nKaareish hovered his left hand over his mouth, hiding it behind the draping, pure-white silk that made the baggy sleeves of his saintly robe. The azure gemstone positioned at the center of his blindfold glittered as though it were to suggest the shifting of his nonexistent gaze, like the squint of eyes that did not exist.\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜.\" ]\n[ \"𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢—\" ]\n[ \"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝?\" ]\n\n\n[ \"𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏?\"]```\n\nThe man turned, yet still did he peek over his shoulder. Toward the Weaver, still early within the forest, and having not yet tread deep into the forest. As Kaareish paced away, he gave not another word; yet his persistent glare would seem to suggest that he was inviting the outsider to follow him." }, { "author": "THE RED WEAVER", "message": "He knew he'd die if he just stood around doing nothing, or even started to go away from Kaareish, but his legs were.. Heavier..\n\nThe exhaustion of his rough travels were starting to get to him. The slight pause that he took listening to him was enough for his muscles to start getting sore the moment he resumed. He couldn't mutter much back.\n\nHis primal instincts kicked in, his subconscious warning him that if he continues to move any further he might not be able to stay awake any longer if he stops to take a rest. His legs were aching, a burning sensation making it harder to walk.\n\n\nHe put a foot forward, lifting the two (2) walking sticks and following behind Kaareish, hiking slowly.\nWith every step he took, it drained him. Mentally and physically. His body didn't want to do this anymore. And the snow.. He knew how the snow was better to sleep on than any other rough spot he could think of.\nIt was inviting him. And the person in front of him walking away was almost teasing him, backhandedly telling him how weak he was. He was never fit for this job. All he did was heal people, and that was at the cost of his own life.\n\nAnd now he would meet the consequences of his selfless behavior, to all the people that he had met, that he had healed, it all amounted to him dying here, in the snowy forest of a tower housing his impending doom..\n\n..But he wasn't willing to die here.\n\n\nHe was back on a steady pace to Kaareish, silently following behind him." } ]	330	1,582
1,434.333333	2022-07-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Kaareish", "message": "Unbroken quiet lingered within the air for minutes on end, as the man — Kaareish — who identified himself as a Tender of Roots continued at a calm, slow, yet accomplishing pace forward, leading the ever-tired Weaver through the thick and thin of the deific forest. Trees flanked them on every side, and dominated the skylines as they towered high into the air above, yet their height should not let what was at their base be detracted from; ethereal, sprawling roots of a translucent and tendril-like nature stretched from miles on end, interweaved and directly interlocked with the ashen roots of the forest's manifold trees. The translucent roots, themselves, bore potent amounts of the azure energy which fluxed through the trees, yet strangely possessed a more 'primal' nature than the latter — it was, perhaps, as if the azure glow originated not from the Trees, But from the Roots, Themselves, the trees only borrowing from their divine glow. \n\nNurtured by those translucent roots of lucid nature, everything that lived within this forest was connected in one way or another, and demonstrative of the dreamlike nature of the azure-blue glow, no matter how subtle. Sixteen-petalled flowers in mass abundance sprung forth from the infinitely-complex network of underground roots, each petal combining to form a kaleidoscopic image that flared with cosmic grandeur, azure lights flickering from their pistils in an enrapturing display which only drew its witnesses farther from the memories of the familiar, and deeper into the presence of the unknown. Even the very grass which carpeted the ground was ethereal in nature, possessing a crystalline clarity that made it appear like glasswork sprouting from the ground. Utterly alien in nature, the dynamic and awe-inspiring appearance of the landscape would be quick to overtake the Weaver's memories of the bleak snowfield that preceded it.\n\n*Here is the nucleus of dreams.\n_ _\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞—\" ]```\n\nKaareish stopped in his steps, breaking the the silence of several-moments, his clarity severing the Weaver from what dreamlike thoughts may entrance him in his tour of the forest. As he spoke, there was a subtle sense of forebodance — one which would thrice amplify as he continued in his following statement, which, alone, seemed to make the entire world around the two go completely silent.\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚢.\" ]```\n\n\n\n\n\n\n...\n\n\n\n\nThen, he continued forward. With, or without the Weaver.\nSurely he could not just stop here, however.\n\nAs he continued forward, the atmosphere seemed to hang with the dread of the warning that he granted only moments earlier. The divine beauty of the blue forest around them was replaced with the presence of unearthly disquiet, yet its intense blue glow did not waver; the azure of the forest, in fact, only grew in strength. Like heartbeats, the lights pulsed bright, then dimmed in slight, and there was now granted an inexplicable sense of cognizant life to the already-present lucidity of the azure. Heresy could practically be felt tangibly fluxing through the air around them...\n_ _\n\nKaareish progresses further through the forest.\n\nSixteen-petalled flowers are replaced with unnatural, thin, and sharp pillars of obsidian-hued crystal formations, rising from the ground as though they were imitating the growth of plantlife. There is no more grass, and instead there is an infinite, vaporous darkness that shrouds the floor beneath the Tender, Kaareish.\n\nKaareish progresses further through the forest.\n\nThe trees are scarred. Like wounds of a blade sinking deep into their ashen flesh, they are covered with spots that were once bare and sore, now grown over with paler wood twice as thick. The azure leaves of the forest canopy flow in waves, each flowing inward — toward a singular point, further through the forest.\n\nKaareish progresses further through the forest.\n\nIt now feels as though they are within what is within what is within what is...\nSempiternity* Is a strange concept to wrap one's head around. To put it simply, it felt like being in a dream, within a dream, within yet another dream. Reality began to grew dangerously distant; heresy fluxes in concerning densities through the surrounding atmosphere.\n\n__Kaareish progresses further through the forest.__\n\nThe sound of a silver chime which continuously echoes in a persistence for a longing for what once was now resonates eternally within one's ears.\nThey finally reach the center of the forest — where the waves of the leaves' flow meet at a singular point. A tower, in a small lee, deep, deep, deep within the forest. A small tower, not unlike the one the Weaver saw, earlier, in the snowfield, and one utterly overgrown with both the strange, parasitic obsidian crystal-growth, and the azure root which dominated the forest landscape around it.\n_ _\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝙽𝚘𝚠...\" ]\n[ \"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?\" ]```\n\nIt was as if he was uncertain, himself, why the Weaver was here. Why he brought him here, why he, too, arrived at the same destination as Those other two.\nThe outsider to the Vektet Exerted himself far beyond what his stamina would allow. He was led far, far, far into the depths of a forest, for so long that his already tired body could hardly keep itself upright. And, yet... There was no reason for him to do so. No Apparent Reason, that was.\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎?\" ]\n[ \"𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?\" ]\n[ \"𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎?\" ]```\n\nHe turned to the Weaver, who, now, could only see the robed figure of the sagacious man known as Kaareish, and the figure of the glimmering, overgrown tower of heretical beauty behind himself.\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝙸𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎...\" ]\n[ \"𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎? 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢?\" ]```" }, { "author": "THE RED WEAVER", "message": "He could hardly process what he was looking at, what he was living through.\n\n..\n\n..But, he knew why he was here, he just couldn't utter it out.\n\nThe Weaver collapsed, the warning his instincts gave him turning out true. His legs could no longer support his weight, and his mind was starting to wear and tear, his thoughts disappearing behind a haze as all he could think of was.. Rest.\n \nHe was starting to fade in and out of consciousness, the world around him starting to distort more than it already has. He couldn't tell the difference between a made up world in his mind and the forest he was in. It didn't seem real. Nothing did. What if it really wasn't? He was just dead, and this was where he would be for the rest of his life..?\n\n..He put a hand in his left pocket.\n\nThe three fingers he ripped off were still there.\n\nWith what bit of strength left he had in his arms, he painfully rose himself up to a kneeling position, taking a deep breath.\n\n\"I..\" \"..I need to revive a boy back to life.\"\n\"This isn't about what I need.. It's about what I want..\"\n\n\"..I don't..\"\n\nHe fell silent. His arms were starting to tremble.\n\n\nAnd so, he willfully gave in to his exhaustion.\n\n\nI don't want to leave him dead..\n\n..He finally collapsed on the floor, drifting out of consciousness." }, { "author": "Kaareish", "message": "The glittering azure gem of the man's blindfold flickered in its luminosity. Kaareish opened his mouth subtly with the slightest visible manifestations of shock as he witnessed the man begin to collapse, yet swiftly shrouded whatever faint emotions manifest themselves on his face with the sleeve of his robe, hiding his lips and his lower face with its draping white silk. While the Weaver collapsed unconscious, the peculiar Root-Tender seemed most careful about his demeanor and his appearance, and, even in the witness of one whose eyes were soon to close, he hid his shock.\n\nAn azure energy flickers about the Tender, and he manifest behind the collapsing man. The wearied outsider to the Ark Would collapse into his arms, and Kaareish's eyeless visage would peer down toward him, a subtly concerned demeanor surfacing in his expression. A perturbed hum rang silently in his throat as he found his conversation with the stranger cut short. Now, there would be none to hear his questions — none to take in his knowledge...\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛.\" ]\n[ \"𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑,\" ]\nThe Tender spoke, slowly lowering the Weaver's unconscious body lower to the ground, his ability to hone in on one's thoughts revealed to the unhearing witness.\n\n[ \"𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜...?\" ]```\n\nKaareish spoke in questioning. A questioning of his response; a questioning of how he handled the situation; a question of his very own nature. He questioned not the unconscious Weaver, but only himself. Neither was there any sense of rhetoric in his question — it was genuine, as he pondered with a clear and resonant hum in his throat. \n_ _\n\n```ini\n[ \"...𝙽𝚘, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.\" ]\n[ \"𝙼𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑.\" ]```\n\nThe tender slowly lowered the body of the Weaver, laying him to the ground. As he spoke, dismissing of whatever thoughts of regret he may have had, he lifted his left hand to his brow, his thumb tucking beneath his adorned blindfold. The digit lingered there, hesitating for a moment on end, as the man lightly bowed his head. Finally, he lifted the silk from his eyes and raised it beyond his brow—\n\n—so that he might see with his own eyes.\n\nA pale, light turquoise,\nTwo eyes with a deep, sharp erudition in their shape, and peering down through one's very heart and thoughts.\nEyes that were yet incomplete; eyes underset and surrounded by the burrowing form of the same ethereal root that grew throughout the forest around them. The root of Lucidity: The Veirok. It grew throughout his upper face like a parasite, yet one that had been embraced by its host — its azure-blue glow and its transcendent nature was nurtured by the very dreams and thoughts of the mind through which it burrowed. Yet, it was, again, Incomplete. They wrapped round and round his two eyes, but had not yet reached the fullness of their growth — they had not yet burrowed through his pearly orbs of vision, and had not yet superseded his measly human sight. This incompletion of symbiosis was the reason for which he hid his face. It was a reason for Shame.\n\nHe could only now reveal them, for there was no waking witness to see them.\n_ _\n\n```ini\n[ \"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕.\" ]\n[ \"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖'𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚍𝚘𝚖.\" ]\n[ \"𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍...\" ]\n\n[ \"...𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕?\" ]\n\n[ \"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.\" ]\n[ \"𝐓𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡.\" ]```\n\nThe Weaver would not hear, yet such would Kaareish dictate. There was a powerful conclusiveness in his words, as he slowly — and surprisingly effortlessly — cradled up the unconscious body of the outsider. In a mirage of azure, the two were transported throughout the forest in the blink of an eye. \n\nTheir destination lied in the tower shortly in the distance. The place where the trees converged — the place of a distant heresy, where an impassable truth was once discovered." } ]	1,899	4,303
277.25	2023-06-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Margaret Tanager", "message": "Maggie let a smile creep across her face as Aki chuckled, she often found laughter inexplicably contagious. She took a step away from Rust and turned back to face Akira as she explained she had just been out running errands. She tipped her hat in respect, it wasn't easy having so much work to do by yourself, Maggie knew that all too well. \n\nWhen Aki mirrored her line of questioning, it became clear that the farmer had no idea that the Ol' Davis Barn had fairly recently had a chance of purpose. Maggie herself wasn't entirely sure who owned the joint these days, but she'd heard about it through friends of friends a few months back, it seemed to be a fairly open secret by now. \n\n\"Well, I wouldn't say 'alone', that's why my old boy's with me.\" She nodded over to Rust. \"You mean you haven't heard about this place by now? I can show you around if you'd care to join me.\" \n\nShe'd seen all kinds of folk in the barn recently, though the regulars were typically from the older generation, her father was here most days. However, he wouldn't usually be out that late, he preferred to waste his days in a stupor and sleep it off during the afternoons and evenings. He disgusted her in all honesty, he used to be a respectable man but he'd reduced himself to nothing. \n\nHer mind snapped back to the present, she didn't like to dwell. Maggie was excited to see the look on Aki's innocent face when she realised what this place really was. She extended an arm out in invitation." }, { "author": "hawker_hurricane0", "message": "Given by the oblivious look Akira had, it was pretty clear that the woman had absolutely no idea about the new 'purpose' for the barn. She didn't even know it had a name! For her, it was an old piece of rotting wood, nothing more, nothing else. And even with the idea of it being used again, she imagined that this building was getting renovated, perhaps to store hay, or horse equipment that could help Maggie's business. \n\n\"Sure, show me the way...!\"She followed the younger woman behind, not expecting to see more familiar faces inside. \n\nThe environment was strangely jovial, and she soon realized the implications. Well, it didn't take that long given the strong smell that invaded her nostrils.\n\n\n\"O-oh...\" Aki blinked, and her expression shifted entirely, feeling and looking as if the familiar stench punched her in the face. Her eyes searched for Maggie, almost as if she wanted to say out loud _'are you sure this is a good idea?!'_, but no words came out. She could only partially cover her nose and mouth with one hand.\n\n\"Wow uh... I didn't know people were having fun here!\" She took a deep breath, finally feeling like a trespasser, a criminal. \n\nNot that Aki was a saint. In fact, she still remembered the first time she tasted alcohol for the first time. It wasn't long after the prohibition came into place. Naturally, being young and dumb at the time, she had more than what her small body could handle, the look of horror in her old man's face burned in her memory.\n\nAnd even since then, that experience didn't stop her from trying again, though she was more careful, especially with the people she'd try to surround herself with. \n\n\"Guess it wouldn't hurt to stay here a bit.\" After the initial shock, Aki managed to return to her tranquil nature. Yes, she was tired, she could relieve her stress and indulge. But she wouldn't stay for that reason, the woman decided to take the responsibility of keeping the younger one away from trouble." }, { "author": "Margaret Tanager", "message": "As she thought, Aki appeared to be a bit blindsided by the scene though the barn doors. About a dozen candle-lit tables were already full of townsfolk, mostly betting on card games or just exchanging anecdotes. And the smell, there's nothing that smelled quite like an Appalachian home-brew of Moonshine.\n\nShe went and greeted those who she recognised, but there was nobody in tonight that she knew all that well. Some of them weren't the most appealing kind of folk, so she didn't linger.\n\n\"They call it the Ol' Davis,\" She hummed, \"I'm not too sure how long it's been runnin', or who Davis is exactly... But it's a nice enough joint.\" \n\nShe began to walk over to the 'bar', it looked to have been comprised of old components of a cow-milking shed. Whatever works. She turned, now walking backwards with her arms outstreched, \"Can I get you anythin'? There's not much choice of course but they flavour the homebrews if you have a preference for that kind of thing?\"" }, { "author": "hawker_hurricane0", "message": "Ol Davis, what an interesting name. Aki found it kinda cute, so much so that a small giggle escaped from her lips. \"I see!\"\n\nThe woman followed the other to the 'bar', both her eyebrows raised for the way everything was arranged, there was pure ingenuity on display. From the way people would use old farming equipment, to piles of hay and scraps to hide the brewery. \n\n \"Oh, I don't have a preference, I'm open for any recommendations, it seems like you know about this stuff better than me! \"She said in a joking manner." } ]	278	1,109
265.9	2023-07-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Eli Abrams", "message": "The night was always a good time for clearing one's mind of the day, especially after a long day of work. Eli often made his way out to this bridge, finding it a good place to overlook the water running below him and reflect on things. He liked the calmness of this quiet town, especially when compared to the busy town he came from. \n\nSince he had come here, he had been much happier. He had been making his own money, he had been living on his own, the independence felt nice. But even more than that, he felt healthier. Of course, this place had not suddenly cured all his illnesses. But... His asthma had seemed to have gotten a little better. \n\nHe figured it was the fresh air in comparison to the smogy air he was used to back home. It was a nice change all in all. As he stood on the bridge, he took a deep breath in, and smiled a bit. \n\nHe missed his family sometimes sure, but he did visit them on occasion. He did see them, he just had his own life now. He also enjoyed proving them wrong, he knew they thought he was going to mooch off them forever, and he probably could have, but that was not the life he wanted. Even if that life would have been easier. \n\nHe didn't know if he would be here forever, but he knew for a fact that this was where his roots were settled now. He ran a hand through his hair and reached into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, they weren't just normal cigarettes, but ones that had been prescribed for his asthma. He put it between his lips, and lit it up taking a deep inhale in before slowly letting it out. \n\nHe looked down at the water, and tapped his fingers along the edge of the bridge." }, { "author": "April C. Baker", "message": "The day had been long, and with her children being watched by the neighbor for the night as a favor, she was deciding to walk home the long way. Taking the scenic route through Briar Ridge wasn't always wise at night, but the sun was still peeking up over the edge of the land, and she felt it would be alright to go this way. It was beautiful all year round; that was the nice thing about living in a town like this. The trees, the rivers and ponds and lakes, everything... It was so nice to look at. \n\nThe wooden bridge stood between her and the rest of the way home, but the figure ahead made her pause before she recognized exactly who it was. \n\nThe city transplant-turned milkman was an oddball to her, but his personality wasn't off-putting. They'd only spoken once or twice in passing; and her children always pried open the window when he arrived with his delivery so they could wave to him. \n\n\"Mr. Abrams,\" She greeted him as her feet slowed to a stop, leaning on the railing of the bridge as he did. \"It's rare to see you out of uniform.\"" }, { "author": "Eli Abrams", "message": "As he noticed the other approaching, he turned towards her with a small smile. He had seen her on his route of course, but other than that he had really only seen her once or twice outside of that. It wasn't unexpected of course, she was a busy woman with kids, that kind of life required a lot of attention. \n\nAs she spoke his smile turned into a grin, and he moved his cigarette to the other hand in an attempt to keep the smoke from blowing her way as he spoke. \"Hello Mrs. Baker.\" He said with a nod. \n\n\"Well, to be fair it's not often I see you not at home..\" He said as he took a drag off the cigarette and blew the smoke away from her. \"How are your kids?\" Polite pleasantries were not really Eli's thing. He didn't know how to navigate them really. He could hold a converation, but small talk was harder. It didn't help he didn't have much he could usually bring to the table when it came to small talk. \n\nHow about the weather? How is your family? That kind of thing had always been an enigma to navigate, but he tried his best to do so. He liked the stage after that, when you didn't have to stumble through conversation like that anymore. When you could just talk more freely, and God knows Eli liked to talk when you got him going, he was a rambler at heart. \n\n\"So what brings you out to the bridge tonight? Just getting some fresh air? I love the view out here.. The water, it's all so calming you know?\"" }, { "author": "April C. Baker", "message": "Her small laugh carried in the open air, and she looked down at the water below. \"Well, it feels like I'm always home these days,\" She admitted. \"If I'm not at home, I'm at the store or church... It's a routine, you know?\" She raised an eyebrow. \"I can only imagine you must get sick of going to the same houses over and over again every week.\" \n\nShe stooped down, picking up a smooth rock by her foot and rubbing her thumb across the surface of it. \"The kids are fine, although my eldest is under the weather... I've got the neighbor watching him tonight, because I have to do some bedside nursing for a pregnant woman... But I'm sure you don't want to hear all the details about that.\" She said bashfully. \n\n\"Clearing my head... Is definitely a way to put it. It's nice to just walk when I don't have the boys dragging me around town, getting up to no good.\" She pulled her arm back and chucked the stone into the water, watching it make a small splash. \"But I could ask you the same question, Mr. Abrams. And please— call me April, Mrs. Baker Makes me feel so old.\" She wrinkled her nose but laughed all the same." }, { "author": "Narrator", "message": "A rock. A simple rock. Round. Grey. Hardly more than a pebble, really. \n\nRocks fell into the Powell every day. Shifting currents, rainfall, Landslides. What harm could a rock possibly do? \n\nIt Splashed Into the river, the noise hardly audible to the two humans talking far above the water's surface. But its ripples caught something's attention. With the near-full moon rising, the humans might catch sight of the Hulking Shadow that rose from the depths to investigate what was disturbing its home." }, { "author": "Eli Abrams", "message": "He nodded, and gave a little laugh. \"I mean.. I understand that. Sure, routine can get a bit boring but.. I mean it's also kind of comforting.. You know? Like I like to wake up and know exactly what I'm gonna do that day..\" He said as he looked over at her and moved one step closer so that it was easier to hear her. \n\nHe nodded along as she spoke about her eldest being sick and ran a hand through his hair as he looked down at the water again. \"I'm sorry to hear that.. I hope that they get better soon..\" He said as he glanced over at her. \"Nothing too serious I hope.. I mean kids they're..\" He shook his head. \"Something else.. I mean kids eat dirt.. I mean not all kids eat dirt specifically, but you know what I mean.. They like do crazy stuff and their immune systems are just.. Like fighting it like.. Crazy. Can you imagine if one of us ate dirt? We would be sick so fast.\" \n\nHe tapped his fingers along the bridge again and let out a small laugh. \"Are they troublemakers? I guess all kids are at a certain age..\" He said as he took in a deep breath. \"April, alright.. Well then you have to call me Eli. Fair trade I think..\" He said and shrugged, \"I mean.. I was also just trying to get out for a while.. I mean I know I am basically out all day but..\" He stopped when he saw something out of the corner of his eye, some kind of shadow, though he had no idea what it was, he glanced over at April and furrowed his brows as he pointed off into the distance. \n\n\"Do you see that?\" He asked blinking a few times unsure if it was only his tired imagination." }, { "author": "April C. Baker", "message": "\"Oh, my boys... They definitely eat dirt. But it's not like I want them to— they only do it when I'm not looking.\" She shook her head in fond exasperation of her two children, who she loved so dearly but drove her to her wits ends. Was that not what most of motherhood was? Worrying and cleaning and loving no matter how terrible those little monsters could be. \n\n\"If I ate dirt, I think I'd just about keel over and die!\" She laughed, but that only sustained for a moment, as Eli pointed off to something in the distance. \"Oh... Oh.\" \n\nShe had heard of the things that lurked in Briar Ridge, but never had she come face to face with anything herself. Until now, it seemed. \"We should... Maybe we should go,\" She managed in a bare whisper. Maybe if she was quiet, it wouldn't hear them." }, { "author": "Narrator", "message": "The surface of the water maintained its smooth, steady current. Whatever was lurking underneath did not dare breech the barrier. But it did open its eye. \n\nA Glowing. Yellow. Eye. It was so large that a paddleboat wouldn't even cover it in its entirety. The bridge was momentarily cast in a bright, amber light. One massive black pupil rolled to look at Eli. It lingered there, examining him up and down before it suddenly snapped towards April. It locked. Hard. The pupil narrowed as if it were searching for something it couldn't quite see. \n\nThe eye snapped shut, casting the onlookers back into the dim of the moonlight. Its curiosity sated for now. It swam off with a sharp crack of its tail. Waves rolled from where it had dove and crashed against the bridge, making it groan and shake until the surface was still once more." }, { "author": "Eli Abrams", "message": "He shrugged his shoulders, \"I mean hey, sometimes you have to let them eat dirt..\" He said with a small laugh. Once they had both seen the shadow though, his wide grin had faded as he squinted in the direction of the figure he could not quite make out. What was it? \n\nHer reaction confirmed for him that it was in fact real. He had both hoped and hoped it was not real. On one hand, he didn't like the idea of seeing shadows and having nothing actually be there but on the other hand, he wasn't sure he wanted there to be some weird shadow creature. \n\nAs she lowered her voice and continued to speak, he could not help but keep his eyes forward for a moment. Watching as what looked like an.. Eye almost.. But it couldn't be an eye right. Still he watched, as the yellow glow seemed to stare at him, and then move to the woman next to him. \n\nHe glanced over at her, searching her face for her feelings. As he did, suddenly a noise of something hitting water caught his attention as the waves crashed back against the bridge, which rocked and he took a step closer to April, resting a hand on her shoulder as the bridge shook. \n\nOnce it stopped, he looked back out towards the water below then back to her, \"Yep.. You're fucking right.. Let's get the fuck out of here..\" He said as he nodded towards the other side of the bridge. \"I think I should walk you home.. I mean.. Did I see that right? Did you see that.. Fucking thing?\" He asked arching a brow. \"What the actual fuck was that?\" He asked taking in a deep breath as he glanced towards the water though he continued to keep walking with her off the bridge. \n\n\"Are you okay?\"" }, { "author": "April C. Baker", "message": "When that creature's eye locked on her, she could feel her blood run cold and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. This was the scariest thing she'd encountered in Briar Ridge; and she'd once nearly fallen down a foxhole. \n\nNearly unable to speak, she clutched onto Eli's arm as the bridge swayed and creaked from the crashing of the water. Coming to her senses, she blinked and glanced to her companion, mouth open in shock and mirroring his own surprise. \n\nShe was hardly able to answer his questions, her eyes trained on the water as the creature's tail disappeared down the river and out of sight. \"I saw what you saw,\" She said, voice hardly above a whisper, as if afraid speaking it out loud would make it come back. \n\n\"I'm.. I'm okay,\" April managed. \"I know that weird things happen in these woods but I've never... Personally seen anything, even if I grew up here.\" She swallowed." } ]	254	2,659
245.6	2023-07-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Eli Abrams", "message": "He nodded, still feeling a bit shocked that what he had seen was real. He had heard very little about this kind of stuff here, probably because for the most part he stayed to himself outside some interactions in bars and a few hellos during his deliveries. Not by choice, he just.. Hadn't made that leap into talking to many people much yet. \"I have heard.. A few.\" He said as he looked over at her before his eyes traced back to the lake one last time. \n\nHe took a deep breath, \"I mean.. Mostly a few vague things but I thought it was just like.. Stories. You know? Like people just shooting the shit..\" He said scratching the back of his neck and letting out a sigh. \"I'll tell you, that is the last time I ever discredit any fucking story I hear that involves weird shit in the woods and what not..\" He said feeling a shiver run down his spine as he thought about the eye again. \n\n\"I will..\" He said and quickly shook his head, \"No no, no need to explain yourself.. I get it. You need to take care of your son.. Besides..\" He said flexing muscles that were not there. \"I'm big and strong.. I can fight off just about anything that comes my way..\" He said with a small smile, despite his freyed nerves. \n\n\"I will take you up on those baked goods if you have them though, I have a hell of a sweet tooth..\" He said as he turned onto a road leading down closer to the houses around them." }, { "author": "April C. Baker", "message": "\"There's always stories,\" She said, nodding along. \"And I think a lot of those are just fairytales to keep your kids in bed at night. I know I've told mine a few...\" She managed to crack a flimsy smile. \"But I think... I don't know, I've grown up all my life hearing them, and I've known some people who've said they've seen it. I don't like to take my chances.\" April hadn't ever seen any herself, of course, but she wasn't about to go wandering off into the woods at night in pursuit of some odd noise. \n\nThough Eli didn't have the Muscle, she still laughed and nodded along with the joke he said as he flexed his arm. This was nice; though they'd just had a particularly terrifying experience, perhaps it made her feel closer to him. Of course, that only arose more issues for her; how would the church feel, seeing her walk with a man alone? She wasn't technically divorced from her husband, because he was Missing And presumed, at this point, dead. But would it be a sin to want that kind of attention? Yes, most likely. To be so vain as to think that— \n\nShe pushed away the thoughts and folded her hands in front of herself. It was Fine, he was just walking her home after that incident. She could explain it as an act of gentlemanly assistance; nothing more. \n\nAs they reached her home, she stepped onto the porch and unlocked the door. \"I'll bring you those goods so you can head back quickly before nightfall,\" She said, disappearing a moment before returning with a cloth-wrapped package of cookies and sweets. \"As thanks,\" She said bashfully. \"For walking me home.\"" }, { "author": "Eli Abrams", "message": "He nodded, having had a few of those stories himself growing up. His being vastly different though, having grown up in the city. Mostly the stories of the inhumanity of humans, to be careful because of creeps and freaks rather than monsters from under the bed. He had been more inclined to believe those but- \n\nAfter that, who was he to deny the existence and of monsters and what went bump in the night. It seemed perfectly logical to him, with proof. And that was proof, wasn't it? He glanced back at her, \"I mean if it works it works, keeping kids out of danger.\" He said with a shrug. \"But I mean.. I guess maybe there is some truth to it, huh?\" He asked as they approached her door. \n\nHe smiled a bit and stood on the porch with a nod, \"Yeah, thanks again for that. They'll go great with milk, which obviously I have plenty of.\" He joked, as she made her way inside. \n\nHe looked around a moment as she did, rocking back and forth on his heels. Once she returned a wide grin spread over his face, \"Thanks.. It was my pleasure so honestly this is a win win for me..\" He said with a grin as he held up the cookies before giving her a nod. \n\n\"I'll see you around okay? Next milk delivery at the least. I hope your son gets better soon.\" He said with a nod, again, before giving her a wave and walking off, away from her home in the direction of his own." }, { "author": "April C. Baker", "message": "She didn't know much about this man, who'd come from out of town and planted himself so easily amongst these residents. He was friendly, he was charismatic too, and a complete and total enigma to her. She thought of him somewhat fondly that way; she'd have to ask him more about himself the next time they crossed paths. \n\nShe handed him that bundle and her cheeks went warm all over again. \"Please be careful,\" She said to him, leaning on the doorframe a bit. \"It's dangerous at night, so be sure to get right home!\" Ever the mother, she felt a little bashful about it... But she was just a concerned citizen, was all! After all, they'd learned firsthand today that Briar Ridge was not all what it seemed to be. \n\nAs Eli disappeared around the bend, she chastised herself for being overly friendly. What would the neighbors think? She ducked back into the house, setting about to get things down before nightfall." }, { "author": "sprite_pepsi", "message": "This thread is closed and can now be used by anybody!!" } ]	320	1,228
389.333333	2023-07-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ellis Grayson", "message": "Easing himself into the low seated pews was never an easy task, one of the many reasons the ranch worker often avoided tending service - or at least, a reason to give if ever asked. He hated the echoing corridors like a tomb, bellowing symphony just high enough to emulate a gut-wrenching feeling from the man and a priest singling out lambs from the herd like a shepherd. A dry, wrinkled hand rested his cane upon the wooden seats as Ellis finally rested with bated breath. He could hear his mutts outside, Ellis's throat numb from the chew tobacco on his gums as glassy eyes stared up at stained glass murals. \n\nWith the sweet herb in his mouth, he couldn't smell the waxed hickory nor a dustbunny from the floor - it almost made the farmer spit out some of the grit in hopes of unclogging the deep aroma. Bless his Mother, she'd throw a fit if she were there, _Chewing that ick in the face of God? Ellis, I raised you better than that._ And to that he would say it wasn't all that wrong, he planned to share it with the Lord, honest! \n\nHe was such a snot-nosed kid back then, dark curly hair and wicked, crooked teeth filled with candy rot. The phantom pain in Ellis's leg shot down to his ankle at the memory, tensing sharp as a needle as he gripped the backrest infront of him. In the corner of his unblinded eye laid a book — The Book — and, in that moment, he wished he'd gone fully blind so that those golden letters wouldn't burn into his retina. \n\nHe spit then, black ooze leaked through the crevices of wooden flooring. Despite his hopes, the world still smelled of tobacco and reminiscence." }, { "author": "Mitica Lakatos", "message": "Mitica had only explored a small portion of the town he now found himself in. In fact, he rarely left the outskirts where his niece resided, but through the subtle encouragement of other townsfolk he decided to take the leap and make a visit to the town's heart. Well, one of its hearts, that being their church. \n\nAs Mita meandered towards the towering sanctuary he couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. It intimidated him simply due to its size and foreign nature. He was never a churchgoer, some could even call him a heretic, and to enter one now made his skin crawl. In the end he just hoped not to be singled out in any way, maybe even be completely alone and left to mentally take notes on its structure. \n\nHeretic or not he couldn't ignore its beauty nor could he feel like he was in a way protected the moment he stepped foot into the church. Readjusting a pair of large spectacles he froze in the aisle between benches. His head moved to the left and then to the right, scanning for anything of note with failing sight.\n\nThere it was, up towards the front was something of note, a figure. Mita just stood there for a moment, stroking his graying brown beard while he watched them spit onto the ground, waiting for stillness to fall back into the air. This was certainly unexpected but not entirely unpleasant. In fact, some friendly conversation could do him good given that he's hardly interacted with anyone else besides his niece.\n\nWith silence and stillness came movement, Mita cautiously beginning the jaunt onward and towards the stranger.\n\nThe closer he got the more details could be made out such as his graying hair or the wrinkles upon his skin. As he walked towards the man Mitica took a deep breath in, readying himself for anything in between a sermon or sour discourse.\n\n\"Ah, I didn't expect anyone else to be here.\" He began once he got within a few feet distance, mindlessly fidgeting with his long dark hair to give any one of his eight fingers something to do. \"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, by the way.\" Mita continued, his eyes wandering down towards the dark liquid that was now soaked into parts of the wood flooring, it's intense smell permeating the air alongside the stranger. Tobacco chew, nothing too surprising or concerning even if it was never his forte." }, { "author": "Ellis Grayson", "message": "A set of footsteps approached, the blind man tilted his head to the thumping noise against groaning wood. They sounded unsure, gum boots unsteady as they approached from behind. Instinctually, Ellis turned his body to greet the incoming man, peering his functioning eye past dawn's golden glare to see a dark beard and round eyes.\n\n He was old but, no older than the farmhand - oh, he had a tussled mane much like that in his 20s - wrinkles still young. \n\nThe wooly-haired man greeted skittishly, to which Ellis waved a loose hand toward the empty room, \"Ain't a bother to me, only got the Holy Ghost to apologize to.\" Past the dark root juice, he gave a gargled chuckle at his own joke before standing from the pews. A hand held Ellis up as he reached for his cane, combing bruised fingers through his graying scalp with an opposite hand before spitting again. This time, he had the 'decency' to turn the heel of his boot into the stain, scraping it from wood. \n\n\"You come to pray? I didn't think serve started so late in tha' day,\" His accent slurred his words, packing the root to the bottom of his cheek so he could speak more efficiently to the church guest. \"Then again, this place seems to always stay open, come hell or high water.\"\n\n\|\|" } ]	379	1,168
345.6	2023-06-11	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Essie", "message": "Essie was in a very content state. She finished planting monkshood, also known as wolf's bane, she dug up fresh garlic to hang to dry. She fed her horse. Now she was relaxing near the creek. Her bare feet dangled in the water while she lazily played her mandolin. She strummed along, playing an old tune she learned as a child. Her pipe was next to her, smoke wafting from it. She paused her playing for a moment to pick the pipe up, bringing it to her lips to smoke. \n\nHer hair was pulled back into a braid that went down her back and she had a red shawl wrapped around her. She wore a loose shirt and a long skirt. She didn't have to go to town today, which was a relief. She didn't necessarily mind it, but the people often aggravated her. \n\nShe resumed playing, getting lost in her own thoughts. Thoughts of her childhood, traveling from city to city. Some parts of her missed it. She was startled out of her reverie by noises coming closer to her little home. She quickly stood, wondering who would be coming her way. A customer or someone that would declare her a charlatan." }, { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "He'd come roaring into town — as he always did — the night before. Briar Ridge was hardly the first stop he'd made coming out of the deeper south, but it'd be the longest. And while he was dirty and exhausted from the road and the wet-hot air, he still sauntered into the bar before securing the usual stay. (This was the only town in which he permitted himself the comfort of a room, much less a bath, on the long routes.) In any case, it was there he heard about the stranger set up just outside town, by the crick. Doin' devilry, so stay away.\n\nBut Shady was pretty interested in devilry, himself, and he'd said as much at the time. The night ended in a little brawl unrelated to that discussion, and today he had the busted lip to show for it. He did not, however, forget about the stranger by the crick.\n\nNothing sapped away a hangover like cold mountain air. He turned his face away from the wind, struck his thumb a few times on his Ronson lighter. Sucked in a breath, lit his cigarette. The toxic smoke pulled out the whiskey miseries, let 'em drift off in the exhale, up through the hemlock and gum leaves.\n\nThe most curious music Shady Rooster ever heard — and he'd heard jazz music! — roiled up to his trail, first as quiet as if it were part of the brook-song, then distinct from the water, then silent altogether because the player heard him coming. And sure enough, a woman stood near the water with an instrument the likes of which he'd never seen. It felt like a scene straight out of one of those strange stories from far away and far a-when, about nymphs or muses, or whatever those dead old poets wanted to call 'em.\n\nBut they'd called her something else, back there in the bar. Not a nymph.\n\n\"Mornin',\" He greeted (in the early afternoon), shy of breath after that schlep through the woods. \"I heard they was a lady by the crick tellin' fortunes. I don't reckon that was you.\" Which was to say, Shady Rooster absolutely reckoned this woman with her hair down and braided, a\n\nNd her curious loose clothes and mysterious smoke and instrument, was the lady tellin' fortunes." }, { "author": "Essie", "message": "Essie took the man in. He had a wild look about him. His hair seemed to be sticking up in all directions. His face unshaven. But, perhaps the most telling of his wild nature were his eyes. They gleamed, almost like they were searching for the next exciting thing. It seemed he decided her tarot cards were it. She nodded at his question. \"Yes. I tell fortunes for the right price.\" She said. Her voice came out a little husky from the smoke. \n\nShe walked toward her little wagon, motioning lazily with her free hand for the man to follow. Her wagon was big, colorful. She painted it vibrant colors to remind her of her family. Wolf's bane grew all around it, encircling the wagon. Dried garlic hung around the doorframe. You could never be too careful. \n\nShe nodded to a table she set outside for these occasions. \"Take a seat. I'll be back.\" She said. She opened her wagon door. She quickly grabbed her tarot deck and set her mandolin down. She came back out with a flurry of her skirts. She walked over to the man and sat down. She started shuffling the deck, looking at him expectantly. \n\n\"I'm Esmerelda. I read the fortunes of those brave enough to seek their futures.\" She said with a soft voice. She had an accent that made her sound different to everyone else, but she barely noticed it. \"And who might you be, stranger?\"" }, { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "That answer came as no surprise. He'd never met a fortune-teller, but he'd heard plenty — and while he didn't know what he'd been looking before, he'd sure as hell known when he found her.\n\nNo wonder she came to Briar Ridge. Most places tended to have folks like Granny Sandaline — folks who warned against the devil's magic. Against strangers with dark features and strange accents. (As if she didn't have a strange accent, herself, or black-eyed children.) But this place was a little different — a little more open minded. Not enough she'd set up her colorful wagon in town, maybe, but she was here. She was making money, he reckoned.\n\nThe woman gestured, and Shady followed after. The cigarette rolled with the thoughtful motions of his jaw as he inspected the garlic swinging above her door, then the recently upturned earth where she'd planted her precautions. He stuck his boot out and pulled a chair out from underneath the table with the toe of it, then dropped into the seat. It sank slightly in the mud while he leaned against the back of it, one elbow already on the tabletop.\n\nOnce she re-emerged, she had his attention fully.\n\n\"I never heard'a no name like 'at,\" He told her. \"But I'm purdy brave.\" Brave was one world; most folks went with other descriptors. \"I'm Shady.\" \n\nDespite her work shuffling cards, his leaned forward, shoving his hand across the table at her to shake. \n\n\"What'd y'all say the 'right price' was, again?\"" }, { "author": "Essie", "message": "Essie smirked at him, her red stained lips quirking up at the corners. \"If it's difficult for you, you may call me Essie.\" She said. \"And I've never heard a name as Shadey, but we learn new things everyday.\" She finished shuffling and she tapped the cards against the table, getting them to be all uniform. She laid the deck down. \n\nOn the back of the cards were phases of the moon. It was an old deck, one passed down from her mother, and her mother before that. It had several languages in the cards, some of the more common ones where they had traveled. The deck held a lot of history for her, and she respected it a great deal. \n\n\"The price is negotiable.\" She said, her dark eyes meeting his. \"You can pay me three dollars, or if you have something you wish to barter with I may consider it.\" She said casually. This is usually how these things went. She would often trade many things for her tarot readings. \n\nOne time she traded manual labor, getting her cart fixed. Another time she got booze out of the deal. Money is nice, but it wasn't set in stone. Not everyone had it and she took what she could get. \n\nShe reached for her pipe, whacking it against the table to empty the ashes. She filled it back up with tobacco and put it in her mouth. She got out her match book and grabbed one, striking it to light and she brought it to the pipe, inhaling slowly so the tobacco would light. She looked back to Shadey, raising her eyebrow in a questioning way, wondering what he would offer her." } ]	328	1,728
334.5	2023-06-12	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "\"It ain't hard.\" He smiled back, one eyebrow raised, corner of his mouth quirked into a replying grin. A contentious look if ever there was one; a Rooster learned early to live on the defensive. His world had been a dark cellar, lost out there in Lost Cove, perched on a precarious ledge in the Appalachian wilds, burrowed into the ancient mountainside. Ever since escaping that life he fought tooth and nail to represent himself as a sentient thing and a man who had his wits about him.\n\nSo, he'd just have to call her Esmerelda.\n\nOtherwise, Shady bit his tongue. He had further counters to make, but he wasn't so impulsive and stubborn he'd interrupt just as things got good. And, not that he was known for his caution, but maybe it would be wise to see if she really did have the devil's magic before he made any comments such as, Well, if Shady's hard, y'all can call me honey.\n\nThree dollars Got a low whistle, though his gaze had lowered to the backs of her cards. He said, \"Steep price. Ain't sure my future's worth all that.\" But now his smirk was less challenge, more facetious, and he leaned back against the chair and fished in his pocket. The poor cigarette tilted up sharply when his teeth bit into its end, ashing on his thigh.\n\n\"How's about...\" He seemed not to know the contents of his own pockets by heart, but then the short-wired bulb behind his eyes flickered and he switched to a back pocket instead. From this he produced a carton of cards, which he shook into his hand and spread across the table in front of him. These were ordinary playing cards, yellowed at the edges from the sweat and salt of men's hands, frayed and bent. \n\n\"Every last'un's there,\" Shady bragged, \"Divination for a divination. How 'bout it, Miss Esmerelda?\"" }, { "author": "Essie", "message": "A big grin broke over Esmerelda's face. She decided she liked Shady. He amused her greatly. He reminded her of the free spirits of her family. She wasn't desperate for money, so she gladly accepted the cards. \"I can always go and gamble, I suppose.\" She said with a smile. The cards were far from new, but it just added character. Plus, every card being unique made it easy to keep track of. \n\n\"I'll do a three card reading.\" She said. Her hands went to her tarot deck once again, shuffling them with more purpose. \"This will use your past and present to predict your future.\" She said. She placed the stack down and placed three cards face down on the table. \n\nShe flipped over the first one. \"The Seven of Cups.\" She said. It showed a man with seven cups in front of him. \"This indicates you like to jump around. You have a lot of options and pretty soon you're going to have to make a decision about what path you want to take.\" She said, looking up at Shadey. She had no doubt he drifted through town. If he needed to make a decision about his life she wondered what he would choose. \n\nShe flipped over the second card. It showed a big star. \"The Star. It seems you will have a guiding force in your life. Something to help you choose which path to take.\" She said. Her hand went to the last card. \n\nShe flipped it over. \"Five of Cups.\" She said. It showed a person with their head down, 3 of the cups were tipped over, 2 remained standing. \"It shows that certain choices in your life have hurt you, but you can't dwell on these. You have to move on to try and build a future for yourself.\" She said. \"So, my interpretation of the cards is you have a decision to make soon, but let that guiding force in your life help you. If you don't have one, one will appear soon.\" She said." }, { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "The deal was struck, but he didn't hand his cards over just yet. After all, he'd promised a divination in return.\n\n\n\nA guiding force. He said, \"Hallelu,\" With not enough enthusiasm to prove sincerity nor little enough to sound sarcastic.\n\nAnd, finally —\n\n\"I sure's got a lotta cups, ain't I? They sure ain't runneth over jest yet.\" Shady tilted his chair back on two legs while he flipped the cards he'd promised to Essie over. They dominoed, slapping gently down onto the table with the backs facing upright. \"I'm gonna do yers, now.\"\n\nHe made a big show of shuffling those bedraggled playing cards, and while he was at it, lit another cigarette.\n\n\"Y'all smoke, Miss Esmerelda?\" If she wanted one, he was happy to oblige.\n\nThen, smoking his luxuriantly, he said, \"Sure, I reckon I's jumped around some. Seems as they was always somebody shootin' at my feet. Guidin' force, must've been. Now, what do you reckon that is? God?\" He shot her a quick look, fanning the playing cards out across the table in front of him. \"Money?\"" }, { "author": "Deleted User", "message": "Essie accepted the cigarette. Normally she smoked from the pipe, but she wasn't unfamiliar with it. She took the cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag. She held it in for a few moments before letting it out, listening to Shady talk. \n\n\"Well, I can't speak for your path, but my family was... Different.\" She said. She watched as he fanned out the cards. He was being very deliberate in his motions. \"We were travelers. We were never comfortable staying in one place for too long.\" She smiled at the memories in her head. \"The path was never known, but the journey was what made it fun.\" She said, her gaze far away. \n\n\"But, that wasn't my path. Circumstances proved that.\" She said, some bitterness entering her voice. The war tore apart many families. Sure, hers wasn't the most stable life, but she cherished it. \n\nShe regarded Shady. \"With you, I think you do what you need to survive. Much like the rest of us.\" She took another drag of the cigarette. It now had a red ring around the filter from the lip stain she wore." } ]	338.5	1,338
417	2023-07-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "Alma tried her best to ignore Shady's theatrics as she knelt at her Mama's side in the patch of dirt Shady had cleaned earlier. Granted, the apron over her skirts would likely be enough to keep her knees from getting tore up, but there was no use in invitin the devil. She gently poured the cool water over her Mama's hands and set about washing them nice and clean while she left her mama to do the talking. \n\nMrs. Cooper was Delighted By Shady's tall tales, even if she didn't believe a single word of it. \"Why do I got a feelin' you could talk a squirrel out of its own nuts right before a blizzard?\" She laughed through Alma's washing, not even wincing when the soap hit the cuts. But the laughter had her moving around an awful lot, which earned her an exasperated \"Mama, Please!\" From Alma. \n\nAlthough Alma was doing her best to focus on the task at hand, Shady's wording had her ears burning. Her? Charmin' city folks outta their britches? Unthinkable! Darlene's advice came bubbling into the back of her mind unbidden. \"You just... Gotta put yourself out there. Kick your shoes off, get a little crazy! It's fun!\" Alma pressed her lips into a thin, nervous line and tried not to look at him. \"Don't talk like I'm goin' Out there,\" She made it a point not to look at him as she fetched the gauze from his kit and went right back to tendin' to her mama. \"I gotta feed the chickens in the mornin' and I got some sourdough that'll be ready for bakin' by the time I'm done with the chores and then I got my daily meeting with the search—\" Alma cut herself off before she could do any more damage, but the seemingly permanent smile that had been on her Mama's face since Shady arrived finally fell.\n\nShit.\n\n\"We'll find him, Mama,\" She reassured her, but her Mama notably said Nothing. Alma finished her wrappings quick and stood up, gathering up the mason jar and soap to return them to their rightful places. \"Shady's right. The sun'll be up soon, so we best let him get on his way. We only got a handful of crates left to load, and I can manage the books. I can walk you home af-\"\n\n\"That's alright,\" Mrs. Cooper interjected as she got to her feet with a soft groan. \"I'll head on home now. I ain't much use to neither of y'all like this. I best get Dog his food before he decides the dinner table's a snack again.\"\n\n\"You sure, Mama? I know the moon'll be full n' bright tonight, but I don't—\" Her mama interrupted her again by pressing a small kiss to the top of her head. \n\n\"Quit worryin' so! I'll be fine. You be safe on those roads now, Shady!\"" }, { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "Sometimes, Shady imagined he'd pursued the wrong calling. He liked to think of himself as a professional Distraction, And while poor Alma tried to capture the various bits of glass embedded in her mother, he chased his apparent life's purpose.\n\n\n\nHis deliberation was interrupted by Alma's accidental addressing of the elephant in the room.\n\nHe ought to have said, We'll keep an eye out, Missus Cooper. He ought to have said, All these roads is alike. He's jest turnt around.\n\nInstead, he said Nothing, Too.\n\nNot until they'd agreed Mrs. Cooper would walk herself home, and she bid he take care with her daughter.\n\n\"Yes'm. Don't y'all worry none; I been drivin' these roads since I were yay high.\" He didn't demonstrate how high that was — but he'd driven 'em high, alright.\n\nShady let Mrs. Cooper demonstrate that she could walk, watching after her a beat. Then he passed by Alma so he could open the passenger side door for her. It was already open, of course, so it was just more theatrics on his part.\n\nI'm sorry yer pa's missin. He couldn't say it. He couldn't say, We kin keep a look out. Or, I know another way we might take. It's longer, but maybe we'll see somethin'. None of it; he couldn't acknowledge the matter of her father to her at all. What he said was,\n\n\"I'm gonna haveta drive awful fast, huh? We got a ways to go, an' all kindsa catchin' up to do.\"" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "As much as Alma was desperate to press the matter of walking her Mama home, part of her knew that she wanted - no, Needed Her space. That was why her mama had been out here working the still so much. It gave her space to mourn her husband without prying eyes getting in the way. Her Mama also knew these woods like the back of her hand, so she didn't really Need To be worried, but she chewed on her lower lip and furrowed her brows all the same. \n\nThat is until Shady passed in front of her, breaking her trance. \n\nAlma scowled as she pulled her notebook from her apron pocket to balance the book just like she'd promised her mama she would. \"I'm gonna need you to stop sayin' We. I ain't comin' with you, Shady!\" Now that her Mama was out of earshot and out of view, Alma's stubborn look had returned twofold. \"Like I already said, I got heaps'a chores to do when the sun comes up. I can't be bothered to frollic in the city with you when I got work to do!\" \n\nIf Shady looked close enough, he might realize that the stubbornness was actually hiding her Fear. She scribbled something furiously to keep her hands from shaking before she grabbed the last crate to unceremoniously plop it into his car: right onto the seat where he seemed to want her.\n\nGod, did she want to sit though! Not go! Just sit! She'd never been inside a car before! She didn't let herself linger for a second longer than she had to for fear that Shady might get the wrong idea. \n\n\"There! Now you're all set!\"" }, { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "\"You gotta Play Sometimes,\" Shady argued for the sake of being contentious. But even as he spoke she wrote something nervously — Writing; Wasn't she all high and mighty? — and he thought bringing her father up must have ruined her nerves. It was about enough to ruin his, but he didn't let it show. Pushed it to the back of his mind.\n\nHe watched her drop the last heavy crate into the passenger seat and slouched his shoulders in a put-on show of defeat. \"All set,\" He echoed after her, then started to shut the passenger door. And didn't.\n\n\"If y'all won't ride in the truck tonight, you oughta come with me some other time. Once yer pa's back an' all. Hell, I could lend yins a hand, I wager.\" This whole run tonight was supposed to be Shady 'lending a hand,' but it was business, too. \"We ain't gotta do no frolickin' — jest kick our shoes off, let y'all see the world a little bit.\"\n\nAfter unintentionally paraphrasing Alma's friend, Shady stepped around to the driver's side of the truck and laid his wrists on the hood, his chin on the back of his hand. \"'Cause you an' me — we used to be Friends, Wasn't we?\"\n\nNot at all. And not much had changed, because he was still needling her at every turn. Feigning scandalized hurt, he asked her, \"Is you afeared to be seen with me, Miss Alma?\"" } ]	351	1,668
371.8	2023-07-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "The more Shady tried, the more frustrated Alma got. She could feel it festering in her chest and she Did not like it. He was the only person who could rile her up like this! And what made it worse was the fact that he was bein' nice! \n\n\"Listen, Shady,\" She said as she tried to smooth back her hair in a desperate attempt to gain some semblance of control. It was barely holding together by a prayer at this point, all wild and frizzy and stuck to her forehead from their earlier labor. \"Your offerin' to help is-\" Not what I expect from you, therefore I don't trust it. \"-awful kind. I'm sure Mama would be so happy to take you up on it, too. But I just Can't Come with you.\" She floundered for a moment, trying to think up a good excuse. Her lips even opened as if she might confess something, but instead she lamely repeated, \"I just Can't.\" \n\nAlma did Not* Like the way he looked at her from his driver's side door. Or maybe she did. She didn't know. And that was worrisome. She looked away, keeping her eyes glued to the familiar green treeline instead. Moths were beginning to gather in his headlights, casting dancing shadows across her skirts and the remaining shards of forgotten glass. \n\n\"We was never friends, Shady, and you know it!\" She snapped, arms crossing defensively across her chest. But now they were adults. Now he wasn't throwing crab apples. Now he was helping her family out when they needed it the most, and she had a hard time figuring out what box to compartmentalize this new side of him into. She thought she'd seen the last of him. Instead, he'd grown up. \n\n\"Chrissake, Shady it ain't like that. Don't be ridiculous.\" She kept her eyes glued to the trees, unable to face him as a confession came tumbling out. \"I ain't never left this holler. I always wanted to. I still want to. I just... It ain't ever been the right time. Papa came back from the war, so I couldn't leave then. N' then my folks needed me to help out with the shine. N' Then My Papa bec\n\nAme mayor and I-\" Alma stopped herself as she realized she was rambling. \"...I can't go. Not when I'm needed.\"" }, { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "Part of him wanted to needle her more than that. What? We were never friends? Make a show of being deeply wounded by that. See if her hair would get even wilder, her jaw tighter. Back then, it would have been funny. Something he could tell his brothers, scrubbing water through his hair and speaking in a shrill voice for the theatre of it all.\n\n...But to his mounting horror, there was a part of him that wanted to concede to the rejection and try and make Alma's life a little easier. He had something Ma Rooster was missing — her and Pa, and most of the brood he belonged to. It was just a feeble little ounce of empathy — a strange thing to grow up with in that house.\n\nIt was just him and Keziah. Sometimes he thought they were human kids raised by wolves — or something meaner than wolves. But they were fucked up, too; they didn't talk about it. Just saw it sometimes in one another, and made sure to point it out when they did. They hurt each other every chance they got, because they didn't want those wolves to cotton on.\n\nIf she were here right now, she would have seen it plain as day. He could practically feel her bony elbow digging into his side, and hear the names she'd call him. But hell, Keziah, there was no sport in tormenting the girl when she was confessing something he had felt so deep in his bones he would rather his momma shot him like she did Ophia's beau or drowned him like she had Arjun's baby raccoon than spend another minute in that cellar. Keziah had felt that, too.\n\n\"Alright, alright,\" Shady placated, raising a staying hand. \"I know jest how you feel, an' yer a better child'n I ever was. But you kin jest about lose your mind, stayin' put. One'a these days t\n\nHey's gonna haveta be a chance...\"\n\nHe trailed off, glancing sidelong at the dark beyond them. Shady could have sworn he heard something beyond the treeline — larger than a cat. Than a coyote. Could have been a bear, a deer; a few weeks ago, none of that would have made him break into a cold sweat the way he did. All of the sudden it felt like his ears needed to pop. \n\nWhile he listened, it sounded again. A gentle breeze sent dry leaves somersaulting across the dirt road. They stirred beyond the trees, in the deep shadow where nothing could be made out but silhouettes against dull moonlight. The hair on the back of his neck stood, and Shady could have sworn the wind was whispering his own name to him. Or maybe it was hers. They didn't sound anything alike, but he found his memory couldn't make sense of it.\n\n\"You hear that?\" He asked, already sinking into the driver's seat with a wild look in his eyes." }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "When Shady finally seemed to be agreeing to let her stay, Alma started to calm down. The world didn't feel quite so Dizzying Anymore. And she didn't wanna smack his car door in his face so much anymore neither. \n\nUntil she heard it too. \n\nAlma instinctively took a step back away from the treeline, which happened to be one step closer to his truck. She knew her memaw's tales by heart. The wind carried something that sounded an awful lot like their names, but she couldn't make sense of it neither. That could only mean... \n\n\"Something's out there,\" She agreed. \n\nJust like her Mama, Alma knew these woods like the back of her hand. Which meant she also knew their legends. The sound of broken glass. The smell of fresh blood. The light pouring out of Lady. Their bickering. \n\n\"You should go,\" She whispered, her face pale as she slowly started towards the shed. She'd be fine if she got inside. Just needed to take it nice and slow and-\n\nTheir names again. Clearer now. \n\nMuch as Alma knew the legends, she found herself frozen stock still as something Heavy Crunched another twig beneath its foot." }, { "author": "Shady Rooster", "message": "He wished he could say the madness started with the fortune-teller. At least then he'd have something to go on; something to plead forgiveness about. As it stood, he couldn't say when it started.\n\nBut Shady knew as well as Alma there were things in these woods beyond his understanding; that there was truth in the old stories.\n\nAnd they were in agreement; he thought he Should Go — but maybe the shed wouldn't be enough for the Cooper women, either. If it was anything like the cat he and Essie met, it might tear the whole place down to get to them. Oh, it could do even worse to Lady, but it'd have to catch her, first.\n\nHe didn't have to deliberate long. A twig snapped, and with it his resolve. Shady lunged over the crate Alma had set in the passenger side seat, reaching out of the truck and into the night to grip her by her skinny arm.\n\n\"Get in the truck,\" He said as if he wasn't manhandling her into doing just that. He wasn't gentle, but he (barely) made sure he wasn't going to crack her head on the frame of the truck in the process of trying to Save her ass. Then he was leaned across her, fumbling for the heavy door. Dragging it shut, he fell back into his own designated seat and personal bubble of space, white-knuckling the gear shift.\n\nLady's engine roared alive, then her tires spun and flung gravel. They seemed to fishtail at first, engulfed in diesel fumes. Then she lunged forward, hauling her enormous weight forward with a tremendous racket. The engine was deafening; the bottles clanged against one another in their grates. Moonshine sloshed and gravel pinged against Lady's undercarriage. They peeled onto the road, and she found purchase.\n\nGravity pinned Shady against the driver's seat — and poor Alma likely had a time with the crate occupying hers.\n\nWorse, the driver said nothing; just chased the hood of the truck and the cone of its headlamps toward a sharp corner, which he took so hard the side tires nearly lifted off the road." }, { "author": "hyderation", "message": "*Thread has ended! This channel is now open for use! *" } ]	453	1,859
341.25	2023-09-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade had came a long way from home, escaping the suffocating traditions of women where she was from. She didn't want to be married to someone twice her age, she didn't want to be sold off like some prized cow. If she married, it was damn sure gonna be for love and children? Not even in the question. She didn't know where she would end up, somewhere off the grid? The big city? Her journey filled with walking and hitchhiking and then some more walking. She didn't have much with her, some of her books, a few items of clothing, money... What little of it she managed to find. She did feel uneasy, being away from home and all that she knew but maybe that was a good thing. A fresh start if you will. She walked along the road that she was dropped off on, not a lot of people were out. Yet she still loved the environment as it stood the trees, even the air felt different, smelled different. \n\nYet she did feel another presence, someone who was doing the same as her? Someone who could lead her to a town? She paused from her walk to look around before stumbling upon a poorly hidden someone. Jade wasn't exactly shy, she carefully made her way to the stranger. Apart of her struggled to do so. Her mothers words haunting her Jade, no stranger wants to hear you ramble on and on! The shrill voice of the woman sounding like nails on a chalk board. Finally she spoke up, careful not to be too loud or too quiet \n\n\"Hello, I'm Jade Grant. Are you going anywhere in particular?\" \n\nIt seemed to be simple enough start to a conversation, an introduction followed by a question. She kept her body language relaxed so the other wouldn't see her as a threat. She merely wanted to make a friend if she could, at least for a little. Who knew how long this road went before any type of civilization, perhaps they were even from a town, she could find a place to rest for the night or for her next place to go after. She slowly rocked back and forth on her heels while waiting for their reply." }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "How long had it been since they'd last taken a breather? Three, maybe four hours now, perhaps? Time seemed to blur together into one jumbled mess in their head. Without anyone at their side and their ratty pocket-watch broken in their pocket, they had no real idea as to how much longer the trek to Briar Ridge Was. The thought troubled them, somewhat- the idea of camping out in the wilderness spurred a sourness in Charlie's stomach. How would they stay warm? What about animals? God, what about People?\n\nIt wasn't all bad, of course: the quiet serenity allowed them some reprieve, even if their thoughts remained scattered. The birdsong was nice, and the sight of an animal's burrow reminded them that this place was alive, even if they were alone.\n\nLost in their thoughts as they were, Charlie only managed to register the presence of another person only a few feet away. Maybe, if they'd hide behind that tree, they'd be able to hide. Yes, it almost completely-\n\nFuck.\n\nDespite her relaxed posture, Charlie remained still, eyes unwavering on her form.\n\n\"Briar Ridge, miss.\" Their voice was low and hoarse from hours of walking. \"You from around there?\"" }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade kept her eyes on them, she wasn't naturally very... Guarded, one would say. That could get her into trouble sometimes too. She processed what they had said. Briar ridge? Was that the next town? She smiled, perhaps they could walk together! It would've been nice to have a friend. However, before she got too ahead of herself. She replied to the conversation that she had started. \n\n\"I am from Beckley, West Virginia... I'm not sure where I'm headed quite yet. I've just been walking and sometimes hitch hiking.\" \n\nShe kept her tone sweet and calm. Although, theirs sounded tired. She frowned before she took something from her side. Her fathers canteen, she had filled it before she left the last town. She made off with a lot of her fathers old army stuff laying around. He was retired, not like he'd need it. \n\n\"Here, you should drink something.\" She offered the tin water canteen to them. \"Even if you take your time walkin' it can still be tiring.\" She pondered around her own question for a moment. She was shy to ask for things at the very least \n\n\"What would you say if we walked there together? To briar ridge? We can stop and rest whenever...\" She looked over them, trying to figure them out. So far, she got the shy feeling from them. Not in the rude type of way, not as if they thought they were too good to talk to anyone else, the mistreated type of shy. She wouldn't ask their story, not until they offered the details to her and allowed the questions. Oh shoot! She never got their name \n\n\"I'm sorry for being so rude... I, I never asked your name?\" \n\nDid they want to share their name with her? She understood if not, complete strangers after all. Jades grandmother always told her you could learn a lot from someone's name, she never understood that though. Would it be because knowing their name led to actually knowing them as a person? Or was there some hidden message in the spellings of names but her grandmother didn't even know letters, so it couldn't be that." }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Their eyes dart down to the offered canteen, gaze hardening as they recalled the dryness of their throat. It was kind of her, truly, but distrust still simmered in their chest. Jade didn't Seem Like the type of woman to poison her own damn water... A distraction, maybe?\n\n...It couldn't hurt to have a little water, though, could it?\n\n\"I'd ask that you set the tin on the ground, Miss Grant.\" Charlie's gaze trails down to the dirt, back up to the canteen, and then her face again.\n\n\"Not that I don't trust you,\" A lie, \"But I'd prefer to keep some distance between us.\"\n\nThe thought of traveling with someone else, even a stranger, was smart. They'd have to be more vigilant, yes, but two pairs of eyes was better than one. Hell, she seemed green enough, maybe they could let their guard down enough to work those knots out of their shoulders.\n\n\"Charlie.\" They don't offer anything else." } ]	351.5	1,365
291	2023-09-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade was confused at first, usually people took anything the first chance they got. That may have just been the environment she was used to but then came the others request, the ground? Distance? Well okay, to each their own. She leaned forward to put the canteen in the middle of them before straightening back up.\n\n\"There you go\" She offered in a hushed tone, she began to wonder why the other seemed so weary. She didn't want to ask too many questions. She heard them utter their name. Charlie. A nice name, it seemed to suit them. Did they worry that she would try to hurt them? The water was just a rouse instead of being kind. How odd, paranoid even. But she had met some rough around the edges people in her travels as well so it wasn't like she didn't understand. \n\n\"Its nice to meet you Charlie\" \n\nShe offered a small smile, hopefully the stranger would warm up, if not this would make for one awkward trip. She liked to talk to pass the time, ask questions, part of why she tried to hitchhike as much as possible, she hated to be alone with her own thoughts. Somehow her parent's always crept into them, she had second thoughts about running away sometimes but it was far too late now, if she went home, they would be liable to actually kill her. Unsure of where she had been or they would assume the worse and accuse her of being tainted. \n\n\"So...\" She trailed off \"What brings you out travelling? Or to Briar Ridge?\" She figured it was a simple question, everyone had a story after all. She would share hers if asked although it would seem as if she was just being unreasonable. She had a decent home, she just felt suffocated by her parents expectations. She knew that others had it rough. She wondered what she would do when she got to Briar Ridge, were the people welcoming?" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Once Jade has put enough distance between herself and the canteen, Charlie creeps out from behind the tree. Their clothes are worn and oversized, with dirt smeared against the cuffs of their shirt and the knees of their pant legs. Either they haven't been idle long enough to clean their clothes, or...\n\n....Did they steal dirty clothing, somewhere?\n\nThey snatch the offered canteen from the ground and, with shaking hands, they screw the top open as fast as it will allow. Even with the desperation in their movements, however, they drink from the canteen slowly; though a few drops of water escape past their lips and onto their chin.\n\nAfter a few moments of breathing deeply, and one more swig, they hold out the canteen to Jade. It's progress, however small, but the suspicion in their eyes still remains.\n\n\"...I'm looking for a place to stay, set down roots, maybe. What about you, Miss Grant?\"" }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade looked at the tattered clothing of her new found friend... Something she hoped to fix. They must've been so dehydrated watching as fast as they chugged down the water. She hesitantly spoke up \"Charlie... Be careful.. You'll make yourself sick.\" She warned although she looked to the canteen, small progress. She gently took it from them \n\n\"Just call me Jade but... I think I'm looking for the same thing, Charlie... Just a place to make my own, set down roots, maybe learn different things? I was raised in a very... Traditional household.\" \n\nShe used traditional as a lack of a better word. She didn't want to say it was hell because... Well she didn't know the others story but she didn't want to be insensitive. She looked to their clothing once more \"I think... I may have a shirt that will fit you a little better.\" She set down the military duffle bag, she sifted through before finding a linen shirt, white, clean. Maybe smaller than their current shirt \n\nShe had a natural tendency to help others, she didn't want anyone to feel alone. Even if she felt alone sometimes herself.. She didn't want to exchange the shirt the way they had exchanged the canteen, the shirt would get dirty... \"May I hand this to you Charlie?\" She spoke in a bit of hesitance \n\n\"I don't want to set on the ground for it to get dirty... But maybe if you don't want that.. I can hang it on a tree?\" She began to look around for an available branch. Anything?" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Again, their eyes dart down to Jade's hands, brows furrowing. Another kindness, one that sits unnaturally in their chest. How long has it been since someone's done something so genuine for them? Not... Horribly long, but the search for the memory still strains their mind.\n\n\"I... Can't accept that, Miss Jade.\" A step back. \"You've already done enough for me.\"\n\nSurely she'd need it for herself? They didn't have much in their own bag, of course, and the thought makes them adjust the rope keeping it tied to their body. Jade's was better suited for actual travel, while their own was only meant to be thrown in a trunk: the leather was darker now, from use and dirt, but they were thankful that it actually held up still.\n\n\"I can find something in the town, surely. Keep your shirt, please.\"\n\nOf course, How They would procure such an item goes unsaid. Plenty of homesteads had available clothing, and they wouldn't miss a shirt or two." }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade frowned \"Of course you can, please, I insist... Your shirt is hanging off of you. What kind of friend would I be if I let you travel in a tattered shirt? I promise it won't affect me none.\" She tried to reassure them. She wanted to help. This was how she showed her care for someone, trying to help. \n\n\"I haven't done anything Charlie, except give you the water but even that would be common courtesy, no?\" She questioned unsure if she was the weird one \"Back home, we all helped each other out... And I would really like you to take this Charlie...\" She pleaded. \n\nShe didn't want them to get too cold with a shirt so thin; she wished she had an extra jacket. Perhaps when they got to town, there would be someway to scrounge for clothing or perhaps she could use some of the money that was brought with her. Either way, she would make sure her friend had enough. \n\nShe held the soft linen shirt out to them; she was stubborn. Caring but extremely stubborn. If they didn't take it, she would concede and put it on the ground between them but either way, the linen shirt was NOT going back in her bag. \"My bag is already on my shoulder anyways, and it's soooooo troublesome to go back into it to put this back.\" She was exaggerating but that was obvious by the mischievous grin painted across her lips" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Charlie's hesitation is still clear on their face. Friend, she had said. Did she... Really think that, only after just meeting? Maybe, in another time, Charlie wouldn't have questioned it. They would have welcomed the kindness, welcomed the offering of companionship.\n\nNow? They would have to accept this for as it is, even though it settled under their skin wrong. Her stubbornness came from a place of naivety, but they still hesitated to break it. Perhaps it would be a kindness to do so, to warn her of all the horrible things, to make her heart stone.\n\n....Someone else will have to do it, someday.\n\nThey caution a step forward, then another, and another. Charlie reaches for the linen and takes it from Jade, silently marveling at how Soft It felt. They'd grown used to scratchy fabrics, to the wind finding it's way into their clothes as it hung loosely off of them. This shirt looked closer to their size, perhaps only needing a little bit of mending.\n\nTheir thumb brushes over the fabric of it as Charlie considers their options, but they come back to reality at Jade's 'complaints'. Their brow continues to furrow, but their expression turns into one of exasperation, rather than annoyance.\n\n*She reminds me of Lillian.*\n\n\"Thank you, Miss Jade.\" Instead of actually putting it on, or stuffing it into their bag, they simply... Slink it around their shoulders, much like a towel." } ]	303.5	1,746
214.75	2023-09-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade hadn't quite been exposed to the same horrors as her new found friend. She found comfort in strangers, they had yet to do her wrong. It was incredibly naïve of her and a consequence of her somewhat sheltered lifestyle. She would've been scared had Charlie been like her father or her mother even, to her they were cruel. She watched as Charlie came forward and took the shirt, she felt some sort of triumph, she had made progress with him. \n\n\"Of course, Charlie. Also there is no need for formalities, I promise\" She offered sweetly but now that she had made her progress. She held out her hand to him, she meant nothing romantic behind it. She just found it safer to walk hand and hand \"Well, shall we?\" Night would set in on them soon. They had to at least make some sort of haste although... There was one more obstacle \n\nShe had carefully planned out the way she would run away, she had the supplies, everything. Whether she knew how to use them or not... Well that was different. \"Hey Charlie, do you know how to set up tents?\"" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Jade offering to hold hands was a little too much, despite the progress that had already been made. Almost timidly, they shake their head, but still go to stand beside her to walk. Even if they weren't able to hold her hand, they still wanted to make sure that she'd be alright if she fell. She... Didn't seem like the type of person to know her way around the woods just yet.\n\nAt the mention of their formality, Charlie can feel heat creep up on the back of their neck. It was instinctual, at this point; a way to keep suspicion and anger off of them easily. Would they Actually Stop and refer to Jade informally?\n\n....Probably not.\n\n\"Tents?\" They echo. \"It... Depends, I suppose. Some of them have all these bells and whistles that I can't make sense of, but others are easy. I assume you have one?\"" }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jades hand fell at her side, she understood and didn't take offense. Although their assumption of her not knowing the woods would be very correct, how many times had she tripped? Too many, more than she would ever like to admit. Charlie didn't seem to ask so she certainly didn't tell. \n\nHer parents always said she wouldn't last a day out on her own and she was hellbent on proving them wrong. She slowly nodded her head looking up to Charlie, there wasn't a huge height difference between them and for that she was grateful. \n\n\"I do, just in case we get tired but I've never set one up before... I should probably explain a little bit about my situation huh?\" She questioned, they may have been wondering why she had all these items with her if she wasn't intentionally camping. \n\n\"I ran away from home but I planned it out for a while, I took a lot of my dads army supplies, some of my brothers stuff as well but I kinda forgot the learning part of all of this stuff...\" She admitted to her new friend in a shy manner. \n\n\"I promise I won't drag you down or anything!\" She said in fear that they wouldn't want her to tag along anymore, that she would only be a burden, she was quick to reassure Charlie that she would try her best to be out of the way." }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "\"There's nothing wrong with not having ever set up a tent before, Miss Jade. Learning has to happen sometime. I only managed to learn how to myself this past year.\" Their own learning had been less than ideal: moments of panic beside a dying fire that transitioned into frustration, until finally managing to get the first stake into the ground.\n\nThe fear in her voice surprises Charlie, and their eyebrows dip downwards once again. Yes, they were aware of her naivety, but they weren't about to leave her on her own.\n\n\"It's... Fine, Miss Jade. We'll make it to town, and things will be fine. I can take care of things for now, alright?\"\n\nThey gesture for the pair to keep walking. \"We can figure out your tent if we can't get there before nightfall.\"" }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade slowly nodded, a little bit of her worry had been eased but not all of it. \"Okay...\" She didn't sound too convinced but still, walked along side them. They were right, learning had to happen sometime. She just didn't want to have to be taught if they saw it as a burden. \n\n\"Charlie, what was your last home like?\" She offered, she wasn't used to the kind of patience they displayed. It was comforting but she also wondered if they were someone who needed patience too and someone had once hurt them, it was obvious by their actions but she didn't want to just make assumptions \n\nShe was careful to watch where she stepped, she made it a point not to trip up but the moment she took her eyes from her steps, that's when she knew she would fall. So she kept her gaze down, hopefully to avoid embarrassment. \n\n\"Are the woods scary at nightfall?\"" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "\"...There isn't much to tell, quite honestly.\" Their posture shifts, shoulders slumping inwards. \"My great grandfather made the house, and he passed it onto my grandfather. Good size, not too big. Enough space to run around.\"\n\nRemembering home was difficult for them. Some days Charlie remembered the good of it all, of playing with their sisters and the crickets in the summer. Other days they remembered the quiet, the lonesomeness of those empty halls. It was supposed to be a family home, filled with children, but their parents-\n\n*Stop that. Don't think about it.\n\n\"It can be,\" Charlie offers carefully, \"If you don't know what to expect. Worse if you're alone. It's just another place, though.\"" }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade listened to them talk, something to fill the silence yes but if they were to be her friend, wouldn't she need to know something about them. \"And you didn't want to take over the family home?\" She questioned, she knew how complicated family could be. She didn't mean to be nosy but she was trying to open the path for them to say more if they wanted. \n\n\"Just another place... Got it\" She repeated after them, almost to solidify that there was nothing for her to be afraid of because neither of them were alone, she had Charlie and Charlie had her. She wondered if they would still be friends even after settling into town. Jade didn't often forget about people she befriended so she would give it her best effort. \n\nShe looked ahead to see if town had come into view but it seemed to be nowhere, maybe they were going the wrong way? Did Charlie know how to get there? She didn't want to ask too many questions at once but her brain wouldn't let it go until she did \n\n\"Do you know how to get there?\"" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "\"Wasn't a matter of 'want', Miss Jade. My father never would have let me inherit it- it was always meant to go to the next son.\" They shrug, though the familiar bitterness settles in their stomach. Vernon was Never* Going to have a son, so why continue holding it off? Why not give it to his eldest?\n\nHow was it Charlie's fault that they weren't the son he'd always wanted?\n\nOnce again, Jade brings them out of their own thoughts. They were glad that she seemed keen to fill the silence, they'd never been very good at it themself. \n\n\"I got directions in the last town- I know where we're going.\" They nod once. \"Don't recall how long it will take, mind, but we're heading in the right direction.\"\n\nThe question of what Jade's home had been like sits on their tongue, but they swallow it down easily enough. She'd had a reason for running, something Charlie could understand all too well, and they weren't keen on dredging up her past just yet.\n\nThey sprint ahead, bending down to move aside a fallen trunk from their path, then gesture for Jade to follow.\n\n\"What all do you have in that pack of yours? You said you had your father's things from the military, but I don't think a rifle would fit well in there.\"\n\n........Was that a joke?" } ]	206	1,718
183.571429	2023-09-27	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade listened carefully before nodding along. How could someone do such a thing? Although maybe that was their common ground. Complicated family lives. Perhaps that would make them more comfortable being around her. She had seemed to already make great progress.\n\nHer eyes widened at the small joke, she laughed though before shaking her head \"Well, I have...\" She trailed off \"Oh I don't even know... I just stowed away whatever looked useful.\" She let out a soft laugh again \"We can stop and you can inspect it. Maybe I grabbed something of use?\" She started to shuffle her pack off of her shoulders \"It is quite heavy though.\" \n\nShe had to use both hands to hold it out to them. Charlie seemed to know more about the gadgets than she would. They could also teach her said gadgets if they felt up to it. \n\nShe stopped to rummage through the bag. A flashlight, kelly kettle, first aid kit, clothing, her own little stash of currency, the aforementioned tent. She let Charlie take a look for themselves \"Any of it useful??\"" }, { "author": "papercranes", "message": "Cm. A small, distant part of Charlie wants to laugh. She's come prepared, but some of the items she's brought need something Else To work. The flashlight would need a battery if it didn't have one already, and the kettle would need kindling and water. The tent could also prove troublesome if she hadn't actually grabbed the stakes, more trouble than actually putting the damn thing up.\n\n\"You didn't bring any food with you?\" It's a simple question, no accusation in their tone. \"Fire starters? Knife?\"\n\nOf course, they'd had even Less Than Jade in their own suitcase: only a few ratty clothes and that damn pocket watch. There had been a knife at some point, but they'd left it behind somewhere a few towns back. Roughing it had grown familiar, but her state of preparedness, even with its own errors, made them reconsider their own. Hell, they didn't even have a canteen for themself; they'd been relying on creeks and rivers on edges of towns to drink!\n\n\"...Do you know how to start a fire, Miss Jade?\"" }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "Jade shook her head \"Food... Uh... Well..\" She pointed to the money \"That's what I've been using this for but I suppose that doesn't work in the woods.\" She crinkled her nose in thought. \"I have a knife\" She reached in her jacket pocket to pull it out and hold it out to them \"Fire starters... No\" \n\nEven the most prepared had some bump ups it seemed. She stood up leaving her bag on the ground \"No... I've seen my father start one before but other than that I haven't... I'm a little unprepared to be in the woods, aren't I?\" She sorta figured it out when they started to ask questions of their own. \n\nThey had probably been at this a lot longer than she had been and even then she still occasionally had help from strangers. \"Do you know how to start one, Charlie?\" She questioned. Maybe that was another thing she could learn. It would prove to be a useful skill, at least until they got where they were heading. \n\n\"Should we stop for now? Or keep going? Maybe we can get to town tonight? Is it far?\" She wondered. Charlie had the directions, she had... Some of the equipment they would need." }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "At least she was honest.\n\n\"A knife is better than nothing, Miss Jade. You can even start a fire with one, if it can make sparks well enough.\" They shrug. \"No shame in being a little unprepared; you said you ran from home, right? You had the foresight to grab some things, at least.\"\n\nMore foresight than Charlie Continued To have.\n\n\"We could keep going, for now. We may get there just on the cusp of night, but if we had to, I'd show you how to set up your tent and start a fire.\" They gesture to Jade's bag on the ground. \"We can also just... Set up a camp now, if you want.\"\n\nCharlie didn't have a preference: if it was only them, they'd keep going until they'd want to drop unconcious. With Jade being here, though, they'd at least get a chance to relax. Maybe even sleep in a tent, for once." }, { "author": "Jade R. Grant", "message": "\"I think we can rest here if you'd like but I am good to walk a bit more.\" She offered, not really having much of a preference, she wasn't even sure if she would be permanently in Briar Ridge yet. Just depends. She knelt down to get her bag gathered back together. \"Who knows, maybe we'll reach the town, it can't be much longer right?\" Truthfully Jade was restless. She was excited and the anticipation was killing her. \n\n\"Charlie, when we get to town, do you think we'll still be friends, I mean obviously we'll make other friends and all but we'll still hang out. I hope\" She offered a small smile as she continued along, maybe they would make it out of the woods before nightfall, admittedly the woods at night freaked her out. She couldn't see anything and there was never anyway to tell what would lurk in the dark. \n\n\"I'm getting excited though, a new place just waiting to be discovered\" She offered a smile." }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Again, Jade's eagerness for a friend surprises Charlie. It's endearing, of course, but Charlie isn't... The best choice, surely? There will be others in the town, people who are better than they are, Kinder Than they are. People who haven't-\n\n*STOP.*\n\n\"...I hope so too, Miss Jade.\" They don't have the heart to deny her, but they don't believe in themself enough to affirm, either. \"Town shouldn't be that far out, now.\"\n\nA new place to be discovered, maybe a new home for both of them. At the very least, they hope it can be a home for Jade. She seems the type of gal to deserve a good one." }, { "author": "hyderation", "message": "```This interaction has ended and this channel is now free!```" } ]	210	1,285
466.25	2023-07-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Essie", "message": "Essie walked through the orchards, admiring the trees. It was quiet, only the sounds of the birds chirping could be heard. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. During these quiet times was when her intrusive thoughts would enter her mind. Thoughts of her past. Her family. The war. No matter how hard she tried, nothing could keep these thoughts at bay. \n\nShe missed her family. How they all traveled. The dancing around a fire. She felt so utterly alone at times. Empty. A hollowness in her chest thar never went away completely. Over time she learned how to distract herself. Drinking. Playing her mandolin the way her mother taught her. On rare nights she would star up at the stars, thinking of her Uncle. \n\nHe was the one who would sit her in his lap when she was a child. He would point up at the sky and teach her all the different constellations. He was the one with enough patience to teach her her letters, to teach her to read. Tell her wonderful stories. Her own father was more practical. Always teaching her how to gamble, to swindle. Anything it took to survive. \n\nIt was the combination of those two forces that shaped her, but lately she had just been surviving. She carried nothing impractical. Everything in her little wagon was necessary. Besides the mandolin and a tea set. The mandolin reminded her of her mother. How she patiently taught her around the fire. The tea set was something that reminded her of her Uncle. He loved tea, and Essie knew how much he wished to settle down, open his own shop. He could never separate from his family. That was a big factor in him traveling.\n\nEssie was lost in her thoughts, absent minded. She picked apples at random. She let the hollowness in her chest grow, almost welcoming the feeling instead of the unbearable sadness. She needed a distraction." }, { "author": "Mitica Lakatos", "message": "No matter where he went there was always a connection to his family. His brother in the way animals ran wild and did what they had to, their survival instinct strong just like his. His sister in law and late mother in the song of birds and insects, their sound just like her music and movements like dance. In the water he saw his niece, calm sometimes but a force to be reckoned with at others. He always associated her with the constellation Taurus as well, the bull in the sky charging towards an unknown destination, it's eye Aldebaran shining brightly upon them in dark winter evenings. His tendency to connect things to memories and vice versa was both a blessing and a curse, the storm roughly a week or two ago transporting his mind elsewhere, to where it all fell apart. \n\nEsmerelda was the glue, if he found her then maybe their family could resemble even vaguely what it once was, anything but being a lonesome shard of pottery lost to the ages. Mita had gotten word that in this town, the town that could bring his long journey to an end, his shining star was heading off to the orchard. Even if this tip was false it would be nice to get something to eat as meals weren't always easy to come across out on the trail on top of heavy rationing. As he came into town a few people tried to get him to rest, tried to convince him to stay for a meal or two, but he refused each offer. His body was tired and pained but his mind felt too restless to restrain. \n\nMeekly stepping between trees and stroking his beard anxiously Mitica kept an eye and ear out for the girl. No, the Woman. So much time had passed that he worried he wouldn't be able to recognize her if she was here. Hell, would she recognize him? He had let himself go ever since the bombs fell in England. Oh dear, did he look presentable? Would she be worried? \n\nDeep in thought and fretting over admittedly petty details he almost missed it, a figure picking apples.\n\nSneaking closer upon noticing her the characteristics were being checked off as if on a list. He always asked if they'd seen a woman matching her description or at least what he last remembered her looking like and those details were present. The closer he got the more it clicked, bricks falling into place to repair the walls of his heart. He stopped a few feet away, just close enough to process her facial features and come to realization. Was he dreaming? Hot tears threatened to pour from his eyes but he did his best to hold back.\n\n\"Essie?\" He called in a slightly quivering voice, his mouth agape and eyes wide behind cloudy glasses." }, { "author": "Essie", "message": "Essie froze. There weren't many who actually called her by her nickname. Fewer still were the men who knew her. That voice... Her heart rate picked up and she had been frozen, picking an apple when she heard him. She slowly lowered her hand, foregoing the apple. \n\nShe slowly turned, looking at the man who called her name. He was older now. Not like how she remembered him. His hair was graying and it looked like his left hand was missing a few digits. She nearly forgot to breathe.\n\nIt felt like her world had turned on its axis. Slightly tilted. Her vision darkened for a moment before she took in a staggered breath. She was in shock. Disbelief. She didn't make a sound, just silently walked forward. She prayed this wasn't her imagination. If it was, she never wanted to leave. \n\nAs she slowly approached her hands shook. Finally, she stood in front of him. \"M-Mita\" She asked, her voice warbled from the lump in her throat. She had kept her emotions in check until her shakey hand touched his face. \n\nAs soon as her fingers touched his cheek, proving he was indeed real, her bottom lip trembled, a gasping sob broke free from her chest. Then she crumbled. She fell into him, hugging him tightly as the sobs racked her body. Tears flowed freely as she clutched to her Uncle. \n\n\"I Hiccup I thought..\" She couldn't even finish her sentence without more tears coming out." }, { "author": "Mitica Lakatos", "message": "As Esmerelda turned to face him he knew that his judgement was correct, it was her. However, she seemed just as in shock as he was, maybe even more so. As she walked forward part of him tensed, a residual reaction to a few less savory people he encountered during his journey who moved in silence like she was right now. With that being said this silence was out of disbelief, not rage or confusion, and as she reached forward and spoke his name it was clearer than ever that his search paid off.\n\nBefore he knew it she was hugging him, Mita almost toppling over as she put all her weight into him. Stumbling back a little bit in shock he eventually regained his footing and returned the favor, wrapping his arms around her body. Yes, her real body, that of his niece in the flesh. He couldn't help but cry too as much as he tried to stay steady, his grip tightening in disbelief, never wanting to let go. \n\nAs Essie sobbed he did his best to console her, hushing her cries and rubbing her back as if she were a child who had woken from a nightmare. \"It's okay, I'm here, I'm... I'm here.\" Mitica murmured between his own rolling waves of tears. Eventually he started to slowly crouch and move downward, attempting to take a seat on the grass with her. As he continued to hold her he began to realize the small things that were the same. Her voice - albeit a little deeper - was the same as were her mannerisms, the smell of plants still clinging to her hair, her chestnut brown eyes.\n\nWhether she decided to sit or not Mita eventually reeled back to look at her in detail, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Despite his vision being blurred by encroaching tears and his glasses starting to fog up he could tell that she was still Essie, maybe just a little bit more tired and grown up.\n\nLetting out a delighted laugh Mitica could feel youthful excitement surge through his body, his movements swift and steady as he released her face and reached for her hands to hold. He wanted to dance and sing, to tell the world that it should've never doubted him, that he was still here after all this time.\n\n\"Essie! I can't believe I found you! I've been looking for... Well, It doesn't matter, hah! Have you been sleeping well? How was the journey? What about food? Where are you living?\" Mita began to ramble, spouting off questions that he never believed he would get the chance to ask. How did she get here? Were the townspeople treating her well? Oh, how clever and resilient was she, just like her father. He swore that if anyone here was giving her grief then they'd have someone new to answer to." } ]	480.5	1,865
293.5	2023-10-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Kazmir", "message": "It was, perhaps, foolhardy to go about the unfamiliar woods with a guide, but his mission was simple enough: subtle carvings in the trees to guide himself through the uncharted territory. The motion made remembering the spot easier and the visual would serve as a reminder should his sense of direction abruptly fail him. \n\nHe did not expect to find company there.\n\nKazmir was in the business of collecting secrets, and the old practice was one that was ever more important as he and Dreail roved the country in search of safety. He kept his ear to the ground and his lips together unless it was to coax further details from his quarry. \n\nThe people of Briar Ridge were quite a puzzle between their twangy talk, disarming cordiality, and staggering superstition. But he was always up for a challenge. It kept him occupied.\n\nKept him on edge, too.\n\nSo, he did not expect to find company there, But He recognized the head of blonde hair and the strapping figure that had startled him, his hunting knife, and his low-slung rifle into a half-shuffle behind the nearest thick trunk - no better than a startled deer - before he recognized the very human groan of discomfort and clank of metal. \n\nDallas. The man who had dragged the sheriff to safety at the cycle before their arrival and had apparently faced down a beast a second time just this past harvest moon. There had been a fair amount of talk about him around town, and Kazmir was incidentally attentive - or nosy - enough to have caught sight and confirmation of him on an apparently rare trip into town. \n\nHe did not seem like the sort of man Kaz would like to startle. So, from where he stood, he whistled, an imitation of a bird he'd heard about his walks, before he spoke in his low drawl of round vowels and clipped consonants. \"You out here by yourself?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He'd thought he was all alone out here. He hadn't expected anyone else to come traipsing through the forest; and especially not so quietly. He hadn't heard the man until he was basically on top of him— if he had been a foe, Dallas might've been dead by now. But whoever he was... He seemed fine. He couldn't recall him at all, honestly, but he did remember someone saying something about strangers coming to live in Briar Ridge. He hadn't cared much for the information; he wasn't one for gossip, nor did he imagine the new residents would be all that bad. It wasn't none of his business. \n\nHe turned with a start, eyes narrowing at the man before flickering around at the bear traps he'd set up. \"Yeah,\" He said slowly, hand falling to his waist where his smaller pistol was clipped into the belt. \n\n\"I reckon... You're one of them new fellas that just rolled into town.\" He said. \"That right?\" Dallas was doing his best as he began to set up the next bear trap. \n\n\"Could ask you the same question,\" He mused. \"Careful around them bear traps. Trigger is sensitive,\" He said, pointing out at the trail of bear traps." }, { "author": "Kazmir", "message": "\"I apologize. I did not mean to sneak up on you.\" Though it Did Carry its own particular satisfaction. \n\n\"I am,\" He nodded, head dipping habitually in assent. \"Alone and new. My partner is not much for rummaging in the woods.\"\n\nEmerald eyes followed the movement, eyeing the pistol before cracking a smile - close-mouthed but genuine. \"Kazmir. Or Kaz. Whichever is easier to wrap your tongue around.\" \n\nCareful feet skirted delicately around the array of traps. \"That is a lot of hauling and setting you are doing. Would you like a hand?\" \n\nAnother smile as the knife in his hand found its way to his belt, this one with the barest flash of teeth. \"I am sturdier than I look. Are you trapping game or are these for those things from the other night?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He dropped his hand off the pistol and set about opening the next trap, dragging the chain. He didn't know why this man was wandering the woods, but he supposed it was well within his right to do so. Free country and all that. \n\n\"For them beasts the other night,\" He responded, grunting as he dragged the chain through fallen leaves and hammered it down into the ground, keeping it sturdy in place. His eyes flickered up to Kazmir again as he moved through the leaves. \"Dallas,\" He introduced himself in return. \"If you feel inclined, yer more than welcome to.\" He gestured. There were about two more traps off to the side. \"You ain't gonna take a hand off with em, are ya? You ever set one before?\" \n\nHe stood up straight now, getting a better look at Kazmir. He didn't look like anybody he'd ever seen before; not in his genetics, but in demeanor. He had a shifty vibe to him, clearly someone who didn't lurk amongst small towns like this one. It made him wonder how the hell he'd ended up here of all places. \n\n\"Figure we catch one of them son of a bitches, we can get a good look at what we're dealin' with. Maybe take a few down.\" He said, shrugging his shoulders. \"Why not, you know?\" \n\nIt was Something Other than hiding in safehouses. Which was a good idea, sure, but clearly they needed more action. \"So...\" He said slowly and awkwardly. \"What brings ya to Briar Ridge?\" He asked." } ]	296	1,174
324.444444	2023-10-09	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He was glad that Kazmir seemed alright to take the reigns with the conversation. Dallas was not a man of many words, and oftentimes could be seen as impolite. He tried to not come across that way— he really was trying his best here. But it seemed Kazmir either was intuitive to that fact, or perhaps he was just naturally good at leading these things. Either way, he felt somewhat grateful to the stranger in front of him. \n\nDallas offered the hammer to him, setting about dragging the last trap a short distance off to fix it into the ground. He was setting it up properly, using his hand to press the spikes down and his boot heel to push it as deep as it could get. \n\n\"Your sister,\" He repeated. \"She from 'round here?\" Here Not being Briar Ridge, but perhaps the general... Area of sorts. The state, even. \"Sounds like you came a long ways and ended up here. Figure that's how everybody ends up here that ain't from here.\" It's how he ended up here, at least. \n\nWith the beasts in question, he did chew his lip. \"I seen 'em. Twice.\" A long pause followed as he pried open the mighty jaws of the bear trap, setting it properly. \"Once during a huntin' party. Damn near ripped my arm off. Second time...\" \n\nHe felt some shame wash over him. He'd been placed in that cabin for a reason; to Protect. His misfire could've cost them a lot. Thankfully, no one had died that night. But he still swore at himself for his carelessness, his... Panic. \n\n\"I'd say gotta be at least two. Prolly more. But I'd say two... Three maybe.\" He scratched at his face, feeling the stubble he'd yet to tend to with a razor. \"I'd say guns ain't done much damage in the long run. At least not where we've been hittin' em. Seems to slow em down, but not for long. Persistent little shits.\" \n\nHe shook his head. \"That's why I'm hopin' these will slow em down. Maybe we can finally blast one in the head.\" \n\nHe turned to the stranger now. \"Not a great time to come rollin' on into town, I'd say.\"" }, { "author": "Kazmir", "message": "\"Heh, no. She is from the West coast. But she has visited a time or two.\" From, He felt was a relative term. Perhaps the most accurate explanation would be the most recent, that she was From New York, but he supposed it did not particularly matter for the purposes of this exchange. \n\nKazmir's hands hesitate as he handed off the hammer, paused, and adjusted to follow Dallas' lead. Spikes braced with a firm grip, heel of his boot driving down hard. Dallas clearly had some muscular heft that Kazmir's frame could not match but, as he had said, he was sturdier than he looked. His willowiness should not be confused for daintiness. \n\nBoth hands pried the jaws apart, lips turned down at the open maw before him. He wished that he could warn Nina to be careful through the woods, should she come that way. \n\nDallas' voice trailed, tugging Kaz's head back up to survey his silence. \n\nIt was plenty of explanation. \n\n\"Glad to find you alive and intact, then. If you would like a hand checking the traps, I am not far. Our caravan is parked off the woods.\" Just enough away from the town proper to grant them privacy without making the walk in arduous. Just on the other side of the water from the woods to create at least one obstacle between them and anything that took their brightly colored home on wheels as an invitation. \n\nKazmir rose to his feet to inspect his handiwork against Dallas', content with his copycat job. It would hold most creatures that tore through and triggered a spring, but from the relentlessness he had both encountered and heard, he doubted they would become more than a rustic accessory to the wolflike creatures in question. Even so, the heavy steel maw was certain to hurt and probable to hinder. \n\nAnd it was better than nothing.\n\n \nHe parted his lips with a new curiosity, but what emerged instead was an abrupt, deep velvet laugh in response to Dallas' final declaration. \"No,\" He tossed his head back for a deep breath, sending a wave of inky black over his shoulder. \"No, it is not. But we do not have much of a choice.\"\n\nKaz took a step back, allowing himself the opportunity to look Dallas over in full. \"These things, they seem to tear through doors like curtains. Are your traps here the first that have been laid? I would think the safe houses might benefit from Something. Bear traps? Palisades?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "West Coast. That was pretty damn far off; he'd say. He didn't make comment on it— but he couldn't help but find it interesting that they seemed to be traveling such long distances, losing track of where they were or where they were going. Did they even have a map? Well, whatever the case, it wasn't none of his business anyhow. \n\n\"I seen that old wagon,\" He said, nodding his head. \"Sticks out kinda like a sore thumb out here.\" Amidst the greens and browns and soft blues of nature, that colorful caravan was like a crimson flag. \"You paint it up like that yourselves?\" \n\nClearly, Kazmir and his partner were colorful characters, if their little house on wheels was anything to go by. He wondered if this business partner of his was the same. Kazmir himself didn't seem too flamboyant or flashy off the first glance, but looks could be deceiving; Dallas was well aware of that. \n\n\"They're strong as hell, that's for sure,\" He said. \"All we got so far is weapons. Not much outside— think maybe people been worried that bear traps around the outside might keep people trapped inside, but it ain't a bad idea. And... I dunno what the hell a... Palisade is,\" He said, scratching the back of his neck. \"But we probably ain't got those neither.\"" }, { "author": "Kazmir", "message": "If Dallas thought the explanation odd - for which Kazmir would not have blamed him - he had the grace not to mention as much. It perhaps helped that Kaz was making a small effort to fit in - flat front pants in a nondescript grey and a fitted vest to match over a too-crisp white shirt. Boots made for hiking, stretched halfway up his calf where his pants tucked like breeches, laced tight with a thick heel to catch footholds. \n\nIn all fairness, Kazmir would imagine that much of the town had noticed their little encampment if they got anywhere near the limits.\n\nHis inquisitiveness earned another chuckle. \"No, it was like that when we got it. Red wards off evil spirits.\" \n\nA statement Kaz had taken to heart in the moment but was more thankful in the present than anticipated. \n\n\"I saw that.\" He knew the anxiety was bound to leak into his voice eventually. \"I don't know that being trapped inside is much worse than the situation as it stands.\" \n\nThe confession, however, caught him off guard. Mostly because Kazmir could not remember the last time he had admitted to simply Not knowing Something - it felt foreign to hear the words. \n\n\"It's, ah - fortification. Sort of like a fence, but with upright or angled pikes so they are hard to move around and cannot be climbed.\" \n\nHe ventured a step back, inclining his head in invitation to follow back out. \"When that thing came through the window I thought a few spikes might have at least slowed it down.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He usually didn't have trouble saying what he did and didn't know, unless he felt like the particular subject would judge him for not knowing. Like Max— Max wouldn't judge him, and the man knew far more about lots of things than him. And Kazmir... Well, he was a traveler. Dallas probably wouldn't have to worry about embarrassing himself in front of someone who would be gone in a month's time or so. \n\n\"Oh. Well, I could make somethin' like that, easy.\" He was the local carpenter after all, and lumber was sort of his whole business. \"You mean like them spikes in the storybooks?\" He asked as the two of them worked their way out of the woods. Dallas walked with confidence in the woods, at least. He knew where to go, most of the time, and when he didn't, he knew what signs to follow. Rivers and creeks that ran towards town, old fallen trees he'd recalled in his travels. Dallas Sinclair wasn't very booksmart, but he had skill sets all his own. \n\n\"You were camped out in one of them safehouses and not yer little anti-evil wagon?\" He raised an eyebrow." }, { "author": "Kazmir", "message": "He could make something like that, easy - a pleasant reassurance, as Kazmir thought as much. He had not forgotten either that Dallas had apparently been one of the townfolk who has reinforced homes. That he owned the lumberyard. \n\nAbsently, he wondered if the man had lately preoccupied himself with making coffins. \n\n\"Yes, like in the storybooks. They go around as walls and interrupt pathways.\" \n\nDallas was quite at risk of making him laugh again, Kazmir thought. \"I am superstitious, not stupid. Our little anti-evil wagon is a wooden can.\" At least in a safehouse there were more than two targets and a solid handful of able-bodied people with weapons. \n\n\"Even if your town doesn't want Palisades, I might. Or Some Reinforcement. I can buy or trade, whatever your preference, if you're interested.\n\n\"How often do those things make an appearance?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He gave a curt nod. \"I can do that for ya.\" He said. \"Trade is fine by me.\" He didn't feel too right about taking money for defense against things like this. Or patching up people's houses when they were destroyed by monsters. \n\nHe was sure he could bang out a few Palisades In an afternoon or two, build a nice little wall around the caravan for some protection. It wouldn't be a terrible idea at all. Maybe he'd have to bring it up to the sheriff, or somebody else involved in the defense efforts. \n\n\"Every full moon,\" He said. \"Like clockwork, too. Gives us time to know when they'll be back around.\" He said, shaking his head. \"I ain't know how to make heads or tails of it, honest. It ain't always been like this,\" He said. \"Keeps gettin' worse. The first few times... Just felt like people got some bumps and scratches. Except Beaux— poor son of a bitch keeps gettin' the worst of it.\" He shook his head again as they emerged from the tree line. \n\n\"You ever seen anything like this before?\" He asked Kazmir curiously. It seemed like he'd travelled— why would this happen in some no-name town in the middle of Nowhere, Appalachia?" }, { "author": "Kazmir", "message": "\"Volkolak.\" The word struck him in an instant. He had not thought it when the maw of the thing was within ripping distance, but Now With time and proximity between himself and the beast and Dallas' additional explanation in his ear, the word came all too clearly. \n\nHad Dallas read any sort of Gothic horror? He doubted it. He was rather sure they'd need to draw and measure a plan for palisades. The poor thing was not hiding away a collection of Shelley or Tolstoy or Stoker. \n\n\"My babka and my father used to tell stories. About men and women with the power to become a wolf. Witches and sorcerers - or people cursed so their children become monsters, children punished for the sins of the father. They are fast, strong. They are cannibals - their power peaks with the full moon.\" \n\nBut that was absurd. \nOr rather, he wanted it to be absurd. \n\n\"Wolves used to be revered hunters, god symbols. They were wise. But aggressive. Outsiders. Meant to be feared but admired. Christianity contorts the majesty of nature and spirit. I would not be surprised to find it has done so here.\"\n\nKazmir's hand waves as if to clear the notion from the air between them. \"Anyway. What are you in the market to trade, Dallas? I think between the pair of us we can figure out how these reinforcements should look, make sure we are thinking of the same thing. I trust your capability otherwise.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"Werewolves,\" He said. \"That's what they're called here.\" He shoved his hands in his pockets. \"Ain't that crazy, if ya think about it. Don't know how much time you spend out here in these woods... But you see things. Hear things. If yer superstitious, I'd suggest you never follow nobody screamin' for help in these woods.\" He told him. \n\n\"Not even if it sounds like yer mama. Cuz whatever it is out there... It ain't her.\" He was sure that was about all the warning he'd have to give him. \n\nHe cleared his throat, shrugging. \"I dunno. What kinda business you do on the road?\" He asked with an eyebrow raised. \"With yer wagon like that, y'all look like yer part of some traveling circus or performers or somethin.\" \n\nHe whistled. \"I ain't askin' for much. Honest, I'm just tryna keep people safe out here.\" He glanced aside at Kazmir, observing him again. He certainly was odd, but he seemed harmless. \n\n\"Alcohol goes a long way here. Tobacco. Any kinda good or service, really. We ain't much for money round here, yknow.\"" } ]	289	2,920
303.444444	2023-08-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Of course, Dallas had heard the talk. He lived far off the beaten path from most of the town; solitary in his home, not a soul to worry about aside from his own— he didn't find himself worrying too much about things like bears or mountain lions or none of that. He'd encountered a coyote or two in his lifetime, and nothing could scare him. Not when he was walking around at 6'3 with a damn Winchester at his side. \n\nThat was what he'd set about doing now; the last full moon, he'd been heading back from his work real late. The moon had been so damn full, he'd barely needed to use his headlights on his rattling old truck. The bed had been full of lumber; he was dead set on building himself a new shed before things got too cold. \n\nHe'd heard Something That night. Just like he'd heard something last night too. And he was damned sure he'd go out looking around. Why not? Not like he had anything better to do on his day off. \n\nHis faithful rifle at his side, he was walking along. Furrowed brow, that gruff demeanor didn't make him an approachable man at all; he didn't expect to stumble on the gentler of the Morton boys. He was so damn Sensitive, he wasn't sure he'd stand a chance against a bobcat or a bear in the holler. \n\n\"You walkin' round this place without no protection?\" He asked from behind, eyebrow raised. \"If you ain't careful, someone might think you're a creature runnin' round.\" He warned." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Frankly, Max might have preferred a run-in with a bobcat to a run-in with Dallas Sinclair.\n\nThey were the same age, allegedly, only it was hard for Max to really believe as much when Dally was built like an ox - broad shouldered with at least half a foot on him. At least half a foot on Most Folks, he reckoned. \n\nThat was all good and well, sometimes. Noah was the same way. But Noah's constitution was different. Noah didn't throw his weight around.\n\nDally did.\n\nStill, Max would look at Dallas sometimes, how tight-jawed and animal-like he could be, and think about the rumblings he'd overheard about Dallas around town. About how he'd raised up his younger sister all on his own. And how could Max discard the kernel of tenderness he reluctantly held for Dally, knowing that? How could Dally be so different from his own big brother?\n\nDidn't mean Max was keen on encountering Dallas and his Winchester. His warning read halfway as a threat. \n\nMax stopped on the trail and turned on his heel to address Dallas Sinclair proper.\n\n\"Mornin', Dallas,\" Max greeted with a nod as if Dallas had been half as cordial, \"I don't go lookin' for trouble, so I tend to find it steers clear of me as well.\"\n\nHe offered a nod to the Winchester.\n\n\"Is that protection of yours for plain and simple peace of mind?\" Max asked, because Max was not bold enough to ask the question he really wanted to lob Dally's way:\n\nYou're bright enough to know better than to go lookin' for the thing what attacked the neighbors last night, right, Dallas?" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He tipped his head to the side and lifted the rifle before letting the barrel settle on his shoulder. \"This beauty is gonna keep me from being chewed up like Beaux Thomas,\" He said simply, raising an eyebrow. \"You really oughta bring some kind of protection.\" \n\nOf course he was going out looking for trouble. He wasn't scared of no damn animal, no matter how big. Pump em full of bullets, and see how big and bad they were then. \"You know, I reckon you've read that they want us to stick to the main roads,\" He reminded him. \"Heavily trafficked areas 'n all..\" Out here, it was just the two of them. \n\n\"What're you doin' out here, anyway?\" He arched a brow. \"You ain't tryna track down some bears, are ya?\" Maxwell couldn't be that stupid... Right? No, he had to be smarter than all that. Someone like Dallas could but Max? No, that wouldn't be a good idea." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Max didn't think 'that beauty' was going to protect Dallas Sinclair from much of anything. Max thought 'that beauty' would only fill Dallas Sinclair almost to bursting with the brazen, unshakable sense that he was invincible.\n\nMax thought whatever chewed up Beaux Thomas wouldn't see Dallas Sinclair or Dallas Sinclair's Winchester as much of a threat at all.\n\nMax kept those thoughts to himself.\n\nBut Max was not the thing that chewed up Beaux Thomas, and Dallas Sinclair Did Set Max on edge. Whenever he spoke, it was with the cut of a suppressed taunt. Did it make him feel important, Max wondered, for Dallas to scare him? Did Dallas think that would be a particularly impressive feat? Any dog could back a rabbit into a corner and make its heart race. That didn't mean the dog was special. All it meant was the dog was a dog and the rabbit was a rabbit.\n\n\"The attacks are always at night. This trail's well-worn. Should be fine at mid-morning. 'Preciate the concern.\"\n\nHe wished he could have left it there and gone about his way, but there was no Graceful Way to exit the exchange - and it was likely best to humor Dally, insofar as he was able.\n\n\"No, I'm not hunting. ...Foraging, I s'pose.\"\n\nMm. The rabbit comparison was suddenly a touch too apt. Dallas felt like a different species of creature altogether.\n\n\"Herbs and the like. Likely wouldn't interest you, if you're hopin' to hunt.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Max Morton always seemed to have his very core shaken by the presence of Dallas. He wasn't quite sure why; perhaps it was the reputation he'd gotten himself these past few years. Just last winter he'd gotten into a nasty little land dispute that had ended up with fists flying. Thankfully, he'd only come out of the scuffle with a black eye; the other fella wasn't so lucky. \n\nBut Dallas wasn't all testosterone and pounding fists. No, he had some sense on those hulking shoulders— and an innate sense to protect the people he Did Care about. And if Addie ever returned home, he wasn't about to have her come on back to a town infested with things that could tear into her like she was a chew toy. She was a small young lady, after all, and had a knack for sneaking out into the woods at night. He was sure she wasn't the only one in town like that. Teenagers could be fickle— maybe that's why he felt the need to take matters into his own hands. \n\n\"Only been two attacks,\" He pointed out. \"Who knows if them things decides to get bold 'er not, I'd rather be prepared. Y'aint even got a knife on ya?\" He asked, coming closer to him and surveying the ground. No tracks yet, aside from the two pairs of boots in the dirt. \n\n\"What kinda Herbs?\" He squinted a little. \"Didn't know you were some kinda Botanist Or whatever, Max.\"" }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "What did it matter to Dallas what sort of protection Max kept on him? What would it matter to Dallas if he Was Mauled by a bear on the deer path? \n\n\"'Course I keep a Knife, Dally.\" \n\nAs if he'd rip a plant he was harvesting at the stem like some kind of savage. No, there were proper ways to go about the process. \n\nMax took an automatic half-step back as Dallas approached... But he kept asking about the plants, and it struck Max that, against every odd, maybe Dallas was asking in earnest...? \n\n\"Botanist? I don't know about that. That sounds awful formal,\" He said - then paused, weighing how honest he wanted to be.\n\n\"...You heard Beaux was out of sorts at the time of the attack, I figure? I guess a few folks think maybe the marijuana smoke put the animal off, and that's why Beaux maybe didn't get the brunt of it. Figured maybe there are other plants that thing may be sensitive to, if that's the honest case.\"\n\nHe looked to the Winchester once more, skeptical. Anxious. Not for himself, really. But for Dallas.\n\n\"You came out here alone to find it? No hunting party or nothin'...?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He rolled his eyes a bit at Max's tone. How was he supposed to know this young fella carried a knife? Then again, he supposed he was around the same age as Max... He just seemed so much younger than him. Hard to imagine they would've been in the same class if they'd grown up together. \n\n\"I heard,\" He said. \"Probably stank to high heavens enough to ward off a beast.\" The smell of skunk wasn't pleasant; he couldn't say he partook in that particular herb himself, but had caught his little sister with it at least a dozen times. \n\nHe adjusted his gun, tilting his head to the side. \"Why would I go 'round recruiting people to get themselves killed?\" He asked, raising an eyebrow. \"I'd rather go find the damn thing myself and try an' take care of it.\" He grunted a bit, slinging the gun onto his back. \"You know what kinda herbs an' shit out here could do the same thing what happened with ol' Beaux?\" He asked him." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "There were ways things were supposed to be done, proper channels to go through. Sure, for Other Folks in Other Places, vigilantism was a necessary vice. But here, there were good people looking out for them. \n\nHunting this creature down alone? That struck Max as a suicide mission. And what would Dally's little sister think if she ever Did Make it back to town just to find Dallas six feet under?\n\n\"You tried speaking with Sheriff Rowe? He'll be organizing parties to search, I bet. Bet he'd be relieved to have you volunteer.\" \n\nMax didn't doubt Dally's skill with that rifle he'd slung over his shoulder. But he was only one man. And behind the bravado, there was something boyish about him still, like he was off to hunt down the monster from under the bed or in the dark corner of the closet. \n\nAnd he didn't let up on the herbs. Which was nice, in its way, even if Dallas was crude in his delivery.\n\nAll the same, Max wasn't sure he was ready to relinquish the most honest bits: that the plants would tell him, in their private, secret, wordless language. He could feel the pulsations at his fingertips. He came here to forage because the plants knew him, they trusted him, and they'd sacrifice their own to the cause as well. \n\nSawyer had enough on his plate. He didn't need Dallas Sinclair causing a ruckus about how Max was a loon, on top of it all.\n\n\"Sorta. I know a lot about plants. Read a lot about 'em. Work with them plenty, cooking and medicinal and all. I have a couple of ideas. I figure some investigating can't hurt and might help.\"\n\nHe couldn't hold back the question.\n\n\"What's the culprit, you think? I never heard of a bear acting this way.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He was listening, though his eyes were wandering the woods beyond the path. The trees grew thicker and denser beyond here, and the shadows cloaked things even in the bright of the morning. In the night, he knew it was even worse. Sometimes, you could hardly see a foot in front of your own face unless you had a light on ya. \n\nHis attention turned back to Max, lip curling a bit at the mention of following some kind of order from a Sheriff. He wasn't exactly opposed to the law, so to speak... But he wasn't all excited about having to abide by the rules of some sheriff. He stuck to his own, and he wanted the same treatment in return. \n\n\"I'm alright doin' it on my own. I'm sure Sheriff Rowe can manage without me,\" He said, grimacing a little. He looked down at the multitudes of grass and clover and weeds at their feet. He didn't know much about plants or none of that, but a sensitive soul like Max Morton was the perfect culprit for a man with a green thumb. He was the kind of person who could care for something so gently, with Love. When Dallas had been young, he'd once helped his mother in the garden. That year, all the things he planted died. Maybe he just didn't have any of that tenderness in him. \n\n\"Ain't no way that was some bear,\" He said. \"Could be some kind of... Cat-like animal, maybe.\"" } ]	321	2,731
336.666667	2023-08-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Sheriff Rowe could certainly manage without Dallas. That wasn't so much Max's concern. Max wasn't sure if Dallas Could manage, not out on his own. But he wouldn't push. He'd said his piece.\n\nA cat-like animal... Max tried to conjure a picture of what that might be in his mind's eye. Everything he managed turned out too monstrous with eyes that were too knowing, too humanoid. \n\nHe blinked the image away.\n\n\"Like a mountain lion, maybe?\" Max asked, though he wasn't convinced. He wasn't sure Dally was either. \"...Some neighbors have been talkin' like they think it's something else entire. Something not all animal. I don't know. I can leave you to it, if you're set on going in there alone an' all.\" Don't do that to your sister, Dally. \"It's only - Well. I don't know.\"\n\nHe forced a quirk of a smile, a little forlorn, like he knew the bait was weak.\n\n\"If you'd rather trade the rifle for a botany lesson, like you called it, you're welcome to join me. Probably less excitin'.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Honestly, the concept that perhaps this Thing Was more of an It Than a What Had certainly crossed his mind. He'd only lived in Briar Ridge a few years now, but he'd heard enough out in them woods to know better than to go poking around too much at night. If you heard something bump in the night, it was best for most folks to ignore it and go back to sleep. Course, he wasn't most folks. \n\nBut perhaps a flicker of a thought about his sister Addie had him second guessing his decision of a one-man army. He sucked his teeth in annoyance and frustration, before he responded to Max. \n\n\"Ain't beyond the realm of possibility, I think. I heard some weird things can happen in the woods. I swear I once saw a deer stand up on its hind legs and look me dead in the eye once.\" \n\nThat had spooked him straight out of his skin, but he wasn't gonna say that. \n\nNow, Dallas had never been particularly good at schoolin'. He was a rough and tumble kid, picking up more by working the farm than sitting behind a desk. He was fidgety and didn't wanna sit still for too long, and his teachers constantly threw him outta class. \n\nSo, maybe he was interested in learnin' hands-on, and he wouldn't feel so queasy about leaving Max out here in broad daylight with no gun. \"Fine.\" He said after a second, waving his hand at the plants. \"Show me Yer damn flowers.\"" }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Max had, fundamentally, not expected this response. He'd been prepared to send Dallas off with a look like the kind Sawyer shot him every day: forlorn and far away, preempting nostalgia, like surely he'd be lost for good this time.\n\nInstead, Dallas offered him the impossible.\n\nShow me yer damn flowers.\n\nWell. Alright then. If it'd keep Dally Sinclair out of the woods alone, he'd play botanist. Or damsel. However Dallas saw him; really, it made no difference to Max.\n\n\"C'mere,\" Max said, gesturing Dallas over to a felled tree and a patch of greenery just adjacent to the trail. A pocket where Max had spent a good deal of time. Somewhere the plants could feel the radiation of his personal energy from a distance and stretch their leaves in his direction in greeting.\n\nHopefully, they wouldn't be too put off by a visitor.\n\n\"I can't teach you how I can tell what plants will or won't bother that thing out there.\" Max could play Botanist, but he could not play Linguist. Some basics of herbalism and wildcrafting, Max could communicate to Dally in a pinch. Not the secret, wordless language, though. That much remained a mystery even to Maxwell; that was a thing he felt like a hum in his marrow. \"I can teach you some tricks, though. Things to look out for. If you'll be careful with the things I tell to you.\"\n\nDallas didn't strike Max as an especially careful person, but neither did he strike Max as a person who'd shift his rifle aside and trade hunting beasts for making daisy chains - what Max had to assume Dally thought they were fixing to do. (Then, naturally, Max started musing on whether Dallas ever Had Made daisy chains, back when he was caring for his baby sister, and that thought got him all twisted up, so he set it aside before he grew too thoroughly distracted.) He'd already volunteered himself to teach. In return, he had to trust that Dally would hold those teachings with care.\n_ _\n\nCarefully, Max knelt down beside the felled tree. Its wood was damp and dark and swollen, the inside all rotted out with moisture from the air. Practiced, he parted some debris around the base and revealed a plant with a distinctive leaf pattern.\n\nHe brushed his fingertips along the edges of the leaves. A tiny, almost imperceptible buzz ran along the surface of his skin. A humble 'hello.'\n\n\"This is American ginseng, Dally, and this is why I need you to be real careful - 'cuz this plant is like found money. The roots, that is. You bring a hunk into town, you can trade with it, easy.\" \n\nMax had done as much for years. During the War, when his brother was overseas, he'd supported himself nearly entirely on bartering with wild herbs. \n\n\"But folks who deal in all this, we have an honor system. Because that plant can take going on a decade to grow big enough to harvest anything from, and you take too much, and you lose it altogether. Here -\"\n\nCupping his hand, he dug out a patch of soil until he hit the root. Then he fished his pocket knife from his trousers, flicked it to expose the blade, and placed it in Dally's hand.\n\n\"-Take this and cut out this section, where I'm pointing. If you just take that much, the plant'll recover just fine.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "The woods were home to many creatures and an abundant plant life, but Dallas had never paid too much attention to the latter half. His mother had been big on gardening and sometimes, when he was young, she'd take him and Addie out to the wild berry bushes in the woods and they'd pick baskets of them. He also knew what poison ivy and poison oak looked like out of sheer necessity and stupidity; getting enough rashes when you're a kid was enough to learn ya a thing or two. \n\nBut Dallas wasn't a considerably delicate man, nor was he gentle in most things he did. His big boots tended to mash down whatever greenery he was trampling through, and he'd never been too good at picking flowers or nothin'. In all honesty, he'd made only a few daisy chains when Addie had suckered him into it, but the gentle motions had felt clumsy in his big hands even as a teenager. Addie had laughed at him, poking fun as always, and fixed it before crowning him with it. But that had to be... A decade ago at this point. \n\nHe figured Max wanted to keep his fancy plant secrets to himself, and that was fine with him. Hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, he watched and knelt as Maxwell pointed out some American ginseng Which he ain't ever heard of before in his life. \n\n\"You say you ain't some botanist, but I don't know how you know all this shit,\" He said, crass as always. He did know his way around a knife, however, and he was good at skinning a rabbit or a squirrel in a minute flat. So, with a practiced hand, he did as he was told. \n\n\"This what you do all day? Root around in the dirt?\" He asked as he was fiddling with cutting the root out properly." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Max watched as Dallas worked the knife, nodding his affirmation. He had a feeling Dallas would take to the task if he had something familiar to ground him. A blade was surely plenty familiar.\n\nAnd he didn't take offense to the crassness either. That was just the way he was. Besides, buried in the brash delivery - as clearly as the ginseng root was buried in the rich soil - Dally paid him a compliment.\n\n\"Just personal study and lots of practice. Had to get pretty good at this kinda thing when Sawyer's draft number was called goin' on a decade back. Stuck with it since then. I don't call myself anything special on account of it. You can call me a botanist if that's the word that suits the work, I s'pose.\"\n\nAnd he laughed a bit at the question, too, light and airy despite the heaviness that hung in the air from the attacks.\n\n\"I've got myself other tasks to tend to also. I'm a damn good cook, to start. But yeah, I spend my fair share of time rooting around in the dirt.\"\n\nThere was risk in introducing Dallas to this spot. The plant was valuable. If he marked the spot on the trail, Dallas could come back anytime he pleased and uproot the whole thing, honor system be damned. But Max promised to teach, and Max learned from some decent men that promises are worth more than ginseng roots.\n\n\"It's good for health, ginseng,\" Max explained, \"Sharpens the mind, helps with inflammation, just all over good for you, really.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Peculiar fella, Maxwell Morton. Far more gentle than the usual man, but nothing he hadn't seen before. Not that he was Judging Neither— just that them two didn't run in the same circles, so to speak. Dallas kept to himself, quiet and brooding and rough around the edges. Now, Max wasn't Timid By no means. He seemed stubborn nearly, but had delicate hands for this type of thing. As previously mentioned, Dallas didn't have that sensitive touch. His hands were meant for different kinds of creation; with wood and hammer and nails. He'd once smashed his thumb with a hammer and had barely shed a tear, despite the bruising and blood that had followed. Their hands were calloused in completely different places. \n\nBut Dallas didn't do much with trading, and didn't have the mind to underhand Maxwell's secrets like that. He hardly liked going into town to do business on his own, let alone haggle with a vendor trying to sell a root he didn't know shit about. \n\n\"I ain't know nothin' about cooking neither,\" He said. \"You got all kindsa life skills, don't ya?\" He looked over at him. He supposed it made sense, from what he knew. Max took care of the homestead at times, all on his lonesome. Dallas had given up on proper cooking once Addie left home, reserving himself to canned goods and meat he'd hunted himself. It was an honest, hard-working man type meal, but not exactly high cuisine. \n\n\"This root sounds like a cure-all kinda thing, don't it? No wonder you can sell it for a pretty penny.\" He finished cutting the root out and held it up, before passing it off to Max." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Dallas Sinclair couldn't tell the difference between a hickory and a birch and couldn't cook? Well, gee, did he know how to dress himself, at least?\n\nMax regretted the barbed thought as soon as it passed through his mind. Dallas was just a man doing his best, same as him, same as anyone. It hadn't even taken much to dissolve that top layer of briars that cling to him and convince him to dig herbs outta the ground in lieu of a wild beast hunt.\n\n\"Well, lemme tell you what,\" Max said, \"You stop on by any time, and I'll graduate you from botany lessons to cooking class. Plants won't do you any good if you don't know how to use 'em.\"\n\nAnd he smiled with a little nod, hoping that might communicate the offer was genuine.\n\nWhen Dallas placed the ginseng root into his hand, Max pushed it right back into Dally's, brushing up against the opposite, complementary callouses. \n\n\"Quit, that's for you, not for me.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He gave him a look, huffing a little as Maxwell pushed the root right back into his hand. \"Now what sense does that make?\" He asked him curiously. \"What am I gonna do with it?\" He looked down at the stump of a root in his hand. He considered it a minute before he sighed and tucked it in his pocket. \"Yer mighty stubborn, Max Morton,\" He said, something almost like amusement as he shook his head. \n\nHe slowly stood upright and dusted himself off, brushing dirt off the knees of his pants. \"You takin' pity on me, huh?\" He actually did chuckle then, barely there and accompanied with a shake of his head. \"You can show me what all to do with this thing,\" He said, holding up the root again. \"Go on, show me more of yer... Stuff.\" He gestured vaguely, thumb rubbing over the smooth surface of the root idly. \n\n\"You just learn all this from runnin' around in these woods? I dunno how you ain't dead.\"" }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Dally's smile was slight, but it softened his words at the edges, and that set Max well enough at ease. \n\n\"Not taking pity! Only being neighborly!\" Max defended himself, hands raised in mock surrender. \"I've gotta show you what all to do with the ginseng after all, or this lesson's no good! And anyway, I take Personal pains To imagine how you've been eating when I know you're on your own and you say you don't know how to Cook.\n\n\"Good food's one of life's basic pleasures. You oughta have a couple staple recipes in your back pocket and know how to season your food right, at the Least.\"\n\nMax, too, stood and brushed himself off, returning to the trail's edge.\n\n\"I read, too - about the plants. But you learn the most just by workin' with the plants direct.\"\n\nAs he walked, eyes on the ground, he stopped to point out the plants that had useful properties, taking samples of the ones he was running low on: chamomile for stress relief, nettle for pain and allergies, dandelion for stomach problems, goldenseal for luck... And then he paused to check in.\n\n\"Sorry. I am getting carried away with all the information. You can interject, stop me if I say too much too quick. Or better - carpentry. You're a carpenter, yeah, Dallas? On top of running the lumberyard, I mean? What's your favorite part of that?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"I don't believe that, not even for a damn second,\" He said to Max as they walked along. \"I think you think I'm a hopeless case, yeah?\" That's what Addie had always said. That he was a... What was it? A perpetual bachelor? Something like that, mixed in with obscenities. She'd always had a foul-mouth on her. \n\n\"I was never real good at all that. Forget about the oven and burn something all to hell. Last month, thought I'd try and make biscuits— damn near burned my house down and made myself somethin' more like Rocks Than biscuits.\" He made a face. \n\nBut as they walked, he just sank into the silence that Maxwell allowed him. He listened to him chatter on, watching him pluck things up and tuck them into his palm or pockets. Having a knowledge like that, so expansive and Helpful, well... He might've envied it a little. He'd never been real book smart, and far preferred to work with his hands over book learnin. \n\n\"Hm?\" He snapped out of it a moment and looked up at Max, meeting his eyes. \"Nah, you ain't gettin' carried away with nothin. I like listenin'.\" He cleared his throat and kicked at the dirt as he shoved his hands in his pockets. \n\n\"Carpentry? Yeah, I do that... And the lumber yard,\" He glanced aside and shrugged. \"It's honest work, I gotta tell ya.\" He tilted his head a little. \"I like... Bein' able to make something with my hands and... People really use it,\" He said after a moment of thinking." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "\"Hopeless? Nah, I mean - I may tease and all, but there's no teeth in it. You just got a different set of skills. Doubt I could build a table any better than you can cook biscuits.\"\n\n Max did not expect Dallas Sinclair to be a good listener. As the list of broken expectations grew in length, Max was beginning to think he may have been too rash in his judgments altogether. \n\nMaybe Dallas wasn't even throwing his weight around most of the rest of the time. Maybe he was just a little too big and a little clumsy with himself.\n\n\"I guess that's not so different. That's what I like, too. Cooking, matching herbs up to ailments - I like working with my hands and connecting folks with something useful. I like breathing a little extra life into them. And you can do that with a tonic made from nettle and dandelion root, or you can do it with fresh baked bread, depending. Just feels good.\"\n\nMax wondered Why Dallas was all on his own the way he was. He was prickly enough, but there was clearly more to him than all the huffing and puffing might suggest. Wasn't there some gal with a little patience and a soft touch who'd coax that out of him? ...Maybe one who knew how to make some decent biscuits, since Dally seemed to need that?\n\nWasn't his place to ask, he wagered." }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"Then I guess we ain't so different,\" He said. \"But I reckon that your set of skills are a little more useful these days. What, with all the...\" He gestured vaguely around. \"The stuff goin' on.\" He shifted a little, uncomfortable to think about it. What, with all the hurt goin' on in town... People like Max were definitely coming in handy. \n\n\"Well, how 'bout this then?\" He said, clearing his throat a little. \"We make a lil' exchange.\" Dallas had his hands in his pockets. He was never real good at talkin' to people without sounding like an ass, and always seemed so... Standoffish. Making a kind offer wasn't something he was used to. \n\n\"I'll show you how t' make somethin' if you show me how to... I dunno, cook a dish without burnin' it to all hell.\" \n\nHe thought, yknow, maybe it would be a good trade off. A trade for a trade... So to speak. \"I dunno. Maybe you don't wanna make a table or nothin' but, yknow, good to be handy.\" \n\nDallas gave a glance over at Max. Yeah, he could probably make a table or something." } ]	317.5	4,040
367.25	2023-08-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Success. Not that Max harbored a great deal of doubt in the outcome. Still, it Was Real sweet how much pride Dallas took in undertaking the task. \n\nMax gave a nod and walked with Dally along the trail, back in the direction they'd first come from. When he suggested the shooting lessons, Max laughed so his nose crinkled and the smile lingered, but he nodded all the same.\n\n\"Sure, Dally, you can give me shootin' lessons. I don't think I'm much made for killing, though. I can't even stomach it with the chickens.\" Truly couldn't stomach it. The process left him ill in a way that even Max found objectively mismatched to the task. Just wasn't in him, he figured.\n\n\"I'll have to think of somethin' else new to teach in return, too. Gotta keep things fair.\"\n\nHe wondered how long they could go on like that, trading skills big and small back and forth. Wondered what else about Dallas Sinclair might crop up that'd surprise him. Wondered, too, if Dallas might still want to spend time together some days after all the teaching had wrapped up. \n\nMax was getting ahead of himself. They could start by addressing Dally's ability to make biscuits that wouldn't double as bricks." }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"In all that's fair, I think shootin' something and havin' to kill chickens is total apples and pears,\" He said. \"You take a gun and shoot a deer, Yer yards away from it. With chickens, it's all different. Ya feed em everyday, raise em from chicks, and then yer expected to put 'em down and chop their heads off. Not everybody's got the stomach for it,\" He said, kicking a stone along the path. His eyes followed it, and as they approached it, he kicked it further along. \n\nThis was the most Dallas had talked in a single breath in a damn long time. He usually saved his breath, using nonverbal cues like grunts and head jerks to communicate what he needed to. \n\n\"I ain't ever liked it when I was a kid.\" He said. \"My pop always did it, until he said I was a— well. He ain't never had a nice thing to say when I ain't do what I was supposed to.\" He cleared his throat and shrugged. \n\n\"But you don't gotta teach me nothin. Besides, shootin' is for self defense. I'd hope you'd have enough sense in that skull to shoot a bear if it was comin' at ya.\" He gave Max a look, nudging him with his elbow, as if a silent question of Well, do ya? \n\nActually, he was enjoying his company a lot more than he'd anticipated. \"You can teach me how t'... I dunno, I bet you know how to patch up clothes or somethin' else handy.\"" }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "It was generous of Dallas to outline the differences. He didn't need to do that. It was thoughtful in a genuine way - the sort of thing Max thought he might offer up himself. \n\nMax's expression faltered when Dallas touched on (and quickly evaded) the topic of his father. And gee, if a boy like Dallas couldn't live up to all the expectations of a son, what hope was there for anyone else? Wasn't Dally all the things a father hoped a son would be? Strong and broad, good with a rifle, someone who labored with his hands... \n\n\"I hope you don't take it too personal - about your pa. That's just how they are, I think. I don't know if anybody turns out the way their pa wants 'em to.\"\n\nMax was distinctly aware of the mundane contact of Dally's elbow against his side. His mouth went a little dry and his gaze fell to the ground and he couldn't quite place why. \n\n\"I could manage it then, maybe. I s'pose it'd be different in a life or death scenario that way.\"\n\nThe spacing of the trees grew sparser as they walked and approached the trailhead, the place where the deer had carved out the path from off the main road.\n\n\"Mhm, that's somethin' I can manage alright. Have you been letting your clothes get torn to shreds out in the lumber yard and letting 'em stay like that?\" Max asked. \"Ya'know, I figure it's pretty good luck we ran into each other out here this morning. Don't know how either of us has been gettin' by, what with me unarmed and you with your biscuit bricks.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He supposed his father had always been a little rough round the edges, always a bit of a hardass. The man had seen war in his time, had been hardened by it. He'd been raised by a mean old asshole, and that had only been passed down to him, and then down unto Dallas. It had only gotten worse after Mama died; that was when Pop started drinking, and he became a nasty old shit. Towards the end of his life, it was a miracle if he said more than a few words that weren't swearing. \n\nBut that was besides the point. Dallas didn't wanna dwell on his dead parents or none of that. \"Never did,\" He said to Max, shrugging a shoulder as they walked along. He was mostly following him, anyway. If Dallas was leading, they'd surely be lost, cuz he wasn't paying much attention to the directions they were taking. He was just scanning the area, more focused on any movement than the physical path they were taking. \n\n\"Pop always had a lotta shit to say, none of it worth much. I ain't never took it too serious.\" He shrugged again, before looking over at Maxwell. \"You certainly ain't gonna sweet talk a bear down from maudlin' yer ass, so I think rifle lessons are in order.\" \n\nA joke, which was rare from Dallas Sinclair. Max was pulling a lot of surprises out of him today. \n\n\"On the clothes situation, yknow, I just wear em til they're worn out and then get new ones,\" But to be fair, all his clothes had holes in them. His socks were about as hole-y as a church, and his trousers had rips and tears that he'd managed to crudely patch up with what looked like... Fishing line? It seemed to be doing the job, though just barely. \n\n\"And you leave my biscuit bricks alone,\" He said, nudging him again. \"Or I'll make 'em for ya and you'll have t' eat em then to be polite.\"" }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "If Max had the full context on Dally's family, he would have Ached At their shared and bruised connective tissue. Except Max hadn't been the one to whom responsibility fell when his mother died and his father turned to drowning in his drink. Max had been the blight, Sawyer the balm. The shield. The anchor. Sawyer had all but raised him up. \n\nHad Dally been all that for Addie? Had Addie still left her brother alone all the same?\n\nDallas moved them away from the tender spots of his father, of his family, like all of it was par for the course. Stuff that happened. Nothing to linger on.\n\nMax might have gently guided them back to the topic, if only Dallas didn't make him laugh and forget himself. \n\n\"Sweet talk! That sounds a bit like an accusation, and I'm afraid I don't know what you mean by it,\" He said, tone light with feigned offense. If it was an accusation, it was as on the money as Dally's follow-up: that Max wouldn't dare refuse food placed in front of him, for the sake of common courtesy. \n\nThey couldn't have been more than fifty yards from the mouth of the path, the place where it spilled back open onto the main road. Before Max could fire back a quip of his own, he caught sight of a flash of movement at the base of one of the trees. His first thought was a deer or a squirrel - but there was only Movement, No crunch of displaces leaves, no snapping twigs in the underbrush.\n\nHe stilled his movement, nodding for Dallas to do the same.\n\nFrom behind the tree, a figure emerged. A girl, her hair long and damp and strawberry blonde, her dress in tatters, no shoes on her feet. A moment later, she tugged the hand of another child. Younger, a boy with darker skin and darker hair, though he still looked somehow, paradoxically, Pale. Or... Something Like Pale. Like, if you focused your vision real careful, you might see straight through the pair and on to the path ahead.\n_ _\n\nMax took a half-step forward, following his instinct to check them both for injuries and ask where in the World They'd run off from; he'd never seen either of them around town before.\n\nBut something stopped him.\n\nIt was the sight of their eyes. Their pupils were too wide. Hardly any whites lined the edges. And they stared without Blinking." }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Their quips and jokes, something so lighthearted for someone so dull usually, quickly came to an end. As he was about to fire back an I told ya so About Max's politeness, the other stopped walking and nodded. Dallas' eyes flickered and he squeezed the barrel of his gun. \n\nNot that he could shoot through something like that— he wasn't stupid. Whatever these things were, they weren't quite... There. They were wispy amongst the trees. Dallas had always thought kids were a little Weird With their big eyes and uncanny ability to needle your insecurities. \n\nBut these kids were creepier than anything he'd come across. Those big, soulless pools in the middle of their face, staring them down. Their feet moved in the ground, but no leaves rustled or crunched. \n\nHe put his arm out in front of Max, as if to subtly put himself in front of him. \"Shit,\" He hissed. \"Alright,\" He kept his voice low. \"Just our damn luck. Let's just...\" He glanced towards the mouth of the path. \"Maybe they're just them haunts that ain't do nothin,\" He said. \"You got any fancy flowers that ward off spirits?\" He asked him as he was urging him down the path, not taking his eyes off the children. \n\nThe little boy dropped the hand of the little girl, and began to move closer." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Max was frozen.\n\nHaunts?\n\n\"You mean like the deer? On two legs?\" He asked, but Max thought his voice sounded like it'd come from someplace else, like he was underwater or someone was covering his ears or -\n\nIt wasn't that he didn't Believe In them. Somebody'd have to be touched in the head to live in Briar Ridge their whole life long and not believe the veil here was downright threadbare, patched up about as well as Dally's clothes: with fishing line and a prayer. \n\nBut these were... Well, the visage was so Clear, nothing at all like the fuzzy lights Max saw sometimes that weren't lightning bug but were Something And - \n\nChildren. These were Children. The girl, her hair was dripping. Both their clothes looked soaked through.\n\n...Oh, bless them. \n\n\"Dally. They drowned.\"\n\nBoth apparitions looked hollow and Angry, but some of the color returned to Max's face regardless. His pity outweighed his fear. He could believe that these spirits were mangled with anger and even that they were Dangerous. Well. Wasn't that true of all children in the middle of a tantrum? And how many long years had this pair gone without a change of dry clothes?\n\nThe boy approached, steady and unblinking, and Dally's voice found him from the faraway, distorted place. \n\nYou got any fancy flowers that ward off spirits?\n\nAnd bless Dally.\n\nMax looked at the bundles in his arms and shoved a fistful of chamomile and goldenseal into the other man's hand. The first was for protection. The second for luck. Dally wouldn't need to do anything special to reap the benefits. The plants knew Max's meaning.\n\nThe boy stopped moving. He opened his mouth - too wide, the way a snake might - and let out a sound that was unlike anything Max had ever heard from anything alive, human or animal, and it sent a chill through his whole self as he stumbled backward, but still Max found himself calling back with, \"Shhh, hey, Hey Now - quit that! That ain't helpin' neither of us!\"\n_ _\n\nMax snapped his head toward Dally.\n\n\"Dallas, I think you oughta set down the rifle! We can grab it after; I think maybe they're scared!\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Honestly, he had only half expected Max to shove something in his hand, and when he received a bundle of assorted plants, he was sure Max knew what he was talking about with all this herbal stuff. \n\nDrowned. That would make sense, accounting the dripping hair and the way the kids looked a bit like a drowned muskrat. He sorta felt sorry for em, honestly, but clearly he didn't have nearly as much pity as Max did. It seemed the other man had very little sense of awareness when it came to Danger, especially since he was yelling at the damn things like they were a couple of... Well, rambunctious children. \n\nThe little girl was walking forward now too, opening her mouth wordlessly as water spilled out, forming a small puddle around her feet. Frankly, it was disturbing. \n\n\"Scared? Of Me?\" He scoffed a little and glanced at Max, seeing how earnest he was and sucking his teeth in exasperation. He shed the Winchester and slowly lowered it to the ground. \"Now look, we ain't gonna hurt you none...\" He said, trying to use as gentle a tone as possible. \"We just wanna get on home, now.\"" } ]	342	2,938
327.5	2023-08-08	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "When the girl opened her mouth to release a steady pour of water the likes of which could never fit inside a living girl her size, Max's stomach was challenged, followed shortly by his resolve. But, oh, Dally - Bless him - did just as instructed, picking up the slack to speak in a voice he was working Ever So hard to make soft. Even when competing with the little boy's Hollering.\n\nThat bolstered Max's morale enough to forge ahead. To drive the point of their harmlessness home, Max lowered himself to the ground, slow and steady, taking a seat cross-legged in the dirt.\n\n\"I know you two're probably trying to get home, too. I'm sorry,\" Max kept talking. \n\nHe had no sense of how much humanity still existed in things like them, but the narrative kept building in his head. Had they known each other in life? Had they died together? Or had they found each other in this in-between state and clasped hands all the same? He could not shake the basic fact that these were children. And the only real sin a child carried was the Original variety.\n\nWater still flowed free as a faucet from the girl, but the boy shut his mouth and stared. Expressionless. Still. \n\nThe girl stilled, too, once her companion stopped his advance. She tilted her head sharply to the side, at a funny, contorted angle. Tracing her gaze was a task, since both their eyes were inkwells... But Max ventured she had her sight set on the flowering herb bundles.\n\nHad she once had a big brother to make daisy chains with?\n\nMax braved a smile. \n\n\"You like flowers? Mhm, I do too. I was just teaching my friend here a little about them today.\" And then... He had a thought. A realization. His heart ached all over. \"These woods have been a scary place to take up residence at all of a sudden, I bet. Did that thing's been causing trouble give you a fright last night?\"\n\nThey were children. They were just children. They'd been children for so long. Stuck forever as children, dripping wet and lost in the woods. And now\n\nThe monster from under the bed was out and about, too. How awful.\n_ _\n\n\"Well, hey. You don't need to worry yourselves about that. Alright? You see how big and tough my buddy Dally is? I've got lots of friends like Dally, and they're gonna make sure whatever's out there quits scaring folks.\"\n\nMax laid all his herbs at his feet, save for a bundle of goldenseal that he kept hold of.\n\n\"You can have those. I don't mind. You were brave to come after us and all, thinking we might be that creature. But we've gotta get on home now, like Dally said.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Honestly, it was kind of incredible how much patience Maxwell held for inhuman things. As tender as he was with the plants, his inability to kill a chicken, and the strangest level of calm in front of ghastly creatures like this... It was something to be admired, he supposed. He'd never considered it too hard, but Maxwell Morton was a good person down to his core. \n\nThese were just kids, he supposed. And the way the little girl looked at them, how she threw a tantrum, really did remind him of Addie when she was a little kid. Angry and upset, with no other outlet than to push it on the people around them. \n\nFollowing Max in his actions, he slowly folded his long legs up and sat on the ground too. \"That's right,\" He said, resting his elbow on his knee. \"You see that there?\" He pointed at the gun that lay at his side on the ground. \"Me and a whole buncha people are gonna find them things and blow em to bits for ya,\" He promised. \"Y'all ain't gotta worry about it one, alright?\" \n\nHe glanced to Max and then back to the kids. \"Lookie here,\" He said, and the kids' heads snapped to look distinctly in his direction. He plucked up a few yellow flowers out of the grass and, with clumsy fingers far too big for the task, managed to weave them into the tiniest ring. \"I ain't know much about flowers, but my little sister Addie always said these'n here would give her magic to protect her from evil.\" He put it down on the grass. \"So when we leave, y'all can take that. And the monster won't hurt ya.\" He slowly pushed himself up off the ground. \"Cmon Max, we best get on home now.\" \n\nBefore these spirits changed their minds about them. These things, like children, were finicky and unpredictable." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Maxwell was a moment shy of sending Dally a warning glance at his invocation of finding this creature and 'blowing 'em to bits,' fearing that description may not land them in the good graces of the frightening ghostly children. ...But he took note of the phrasing, 'me and a whole buncha people,' which suggested that, well, maybe Dallas might cozy up to the idea of talking to Noah and joining a regular search party after all. So. Judgement withheld. \n\nBesides, their visitors seemed satisfied enough, their circumstances notwithstanding.\n\nOnce they'd all of them settled, Max gave a nod of acquiescence to Dallas's suggestion they high tail it. Measured, careful not to move too quick, he stood back up as well. Just as measured, he walked a wide crescent around their company, offering all involved their rightful space. \n\nHe kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead, walking with purpose until, finally, they spilled out onto the main road. And, as soon as the deer path was behind them, the relief was so strong it hit Max in a head rush. He pushed his hair back, shook his head, looked up at the sky, and laughed in a silent way, the kind of laugh that was just an expulsion of air. \n\n\"Good Gracious, Dallas Sinclair, I ain't never seen anything like that my whole life long... My Lord...\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "They burst out upon the main road and Dallas sighed in relief. His eyes flickered to Max, and he strangely felt a sense of relief that the man had been there for all that. Perhaps it was for the calm that usually was absent from Dallas' storm— a tenderness that he didn't possess that was almost on-loan in the moment. Either way, he wasn't sure he would've come out unscathed if he was by himself. \n\nHis hand was tight around the length of the gun, and he slipped it around himself after a moment before clapping his hand down on Max's shoulder. Maybe it was a way to steady him in the present— it had seemed, for a moment back there, that the other had been about a million miles away. \n\n\"You never seen something like that?\" He asked curiously. \"I thought all you Briar Ridge locals done seen that kinda stuff.\" He'd heard enough stories at least. \n\n\"When I first moved here, I swear I heard things in the woods all the damn time. Sometimes even callin' my name.\" He said, shaking his head before he let his hand drop from his shoulder. \n\n\"Guess you do got some magic in them flowers,\" He said." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Dallas clapped his hand on his shoulder, and Max placed his own hand over Dally's wrist for a held moment in response. To remind himself that he was real and Dallas were real and neither of them were apparitions, at the least - thank heavens. \n\n\"Most folks tell fish stories more than anything. Sure, we hear things. See things. But That Was... Well, that was altogether something else, Dally.\"\n\nMax was vibratory with a paradoxical combo of relief and adrenaline. But Dally's comment about his flowers brought the softness back to his face.\n\n\"Nah, not magic. Just - I don't know what to call it, I guess. Just like how certain foods are good for you in different ways? Same difference.\"\n\nHe took a step back and kept walking down the path, unable to keep still. \n\n\"Now, what day are you coming over so we can teach you how to cook? Don't think you're weaslin' out of it just because we got a little spooked back there.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "It was incredible, how one moment you could be staring down an apparition of death, and the next moment, talking about having a little dinner party. He supposed Max must've been too shook up by it all and needed a change of pace. He went with the flow, nodding along. \n\n\"I ain't weaslin' out of anything and I resent the implication,\" He said, nudging him again with his elbow. He never really knew how much strength he had behind his actions, how a little nudge with the elbow might send Max stumbling if he did it too hard. \n\n\"Teach me how t' make a soup that makes ghosts stay the hell outta my way. Think you can teach me that?\" He asked, a little bit of amusement in his voice. \"I'm usually workin' late, but I s'pose I could make some time on a Sunday night,\" He rolled his shoulders back a little. \n\n\"The only person right spooked is You By the way.\" Was he teasing him? Maybe so." } ]	271	1,965
224	2023-08-09	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Max was, without a doubt, too antsy and heightened to sit in the terror of their experience in the woods. Just like blinking into a bright room from a pitch dark one, the world suddenly seemed at once too bright to process. So. Talk of cooking classes it was.\n\n\"Me? C'mon! I handled that with all the grace a person could hope for! If you want - what was it now? Soup that wards off ghosts? You best give credit where it's due!\"\n\nSundays? Huh. Well... Sure. Yeah, sure, Sundays could work. \n\n\"Yeah, we could have you over Sunday, long as you don't mind a bit of a full house. The Sheriff is good buddies with my brother, so he's over sometimes then, too. But he's no trouble, really; kitchen's mine anyhow, so if I tell those two to keep out, they'll mind.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"I Am Gonna give you credit! I have!\" He pointed out. \"You did a damn good job back there, what with all that... Talkin' em down stuff,\" He said, shaking his head. \"And you can't tell me you can't throw a few of them fancy flowers in a soup and basically make an anti-ghost soup. I don't believe it for a second that there ain't somethin' in that big brain of yours.\" He even reached out a prodded the side of Max's head to emphasize that. \n\nThe prospect of that many people being around him all at once... Well, he supposed he'd have to get used to being in a room with more than a person or two at once. He supposed he'd have to start on Sunday, wouldn't he? Might as well throw himself in the deep end of the lake, so to speak. \n\n\"Can't believe you're displacin' the sheriff just so you can give me a cooking class,\" He said in amusement. \"Fine, fine. Sunday it is, then.\" \n\nIt was definitely weird, how they'd gone from awkward shuffling to somehow arranging a makeshift cooking class this coming Sunday. Funny how the world worked." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "The comment was casual, just something said alongside the light-hearted teasing - but Max took pride in Dally commenting on his smarts. Like it was just a natural, self-evident thing to remark upon. \n\nDallas reminded him of Daisy a bit, and how she had a habit of jumping up on people with her front paws without realizing she'd send them toppling. It was the same now, what with all Dally's elbowing and shoving. \n\nMax would rather the rough housing came from Dallas than Daisy any day. It was nice, in its way, to be touched at all. \n\n\"If I'm displacin' Noah Rowe, it's only by a margin of about ten feet - to the left of the kitchen and at the table with my brother. He will be just fine.\"\n\nAs the road veered closer to the bend that led to the Morton home, Max decided it would be best to check in... Even if Dallas claimed not to have been shaken up. \n\n\"Hey. You're certain you feel steady? I'm just up the way here. But if you need somethin' - I don't know. That was a whole lot, back there. Good we bumped into each other.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"Sounds like Yer runnin' that house with an iron fist. That kitchen yer domain?\" He asked him as they walked along that long path. Perhaps he'd really underestimated the younger Morton brother— maybe he could hold his own far better than he thought. Especially if he was in the business of bossing the local sheriff around like that. \n\nThough the inquiry into his state was a bit funny; most people thought Dallas was an immovable wall. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been asked if everything was alright. \n\n\"I'm fine, stop worryin'. Yer like a damn mother hen over there.\" He put his large hand down on top of Max's head. \"I seen things that would make yer toes curl, ain't no sense in worryin' about me.\" He assured him. Dallas had seen some things that would make some grown men cry. \n\n\"But... Yeah, gotta say, glad it turned out the way it did, I s'pose.\"" } ]	226	896
343.666667	2023-08-10	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "That wasn't a taunt. No meanness tinted the way Dallas remarked upon Max keeping house or managing the kitchen. Dallas spoke with real respect. \n\nMax wondered if Dallas had ever thought on having kids, or on settling down at all. Fathers loved to snuff out anything soft. Max figured they must have thought, somehow, that was how to protect their sons, how to fortify them for the world. For all his rough edges, though, Dallas had so quickly seen and appreciated the firm resolve inherent to Max's gentleness. What a gift that would be to a son, if Dallas ever stumbled into having one.\n\n\"I'm no Tyrant, but if those gentleman prefer a timely supper, well, they know when to take direction,\" Max said with a grin. \"Don't worry yourself, Dally. I'll go easy on you. You're learnin'.\" \n\nAnd the grin turned lopsided and warm when Dallas put his hand on his head, mussing his hair like they really were old pals. Might as well have been. Talking down a pair of apparitions in the woods the day following a mysterious attack on their community granted them license to skip a few steps in the pleasantries department. \n\nWhat all Had Dallas seen in his time? Wasn't that all the more reason to make sure he was safe now? What was the point of sharing a community if they couldn't all step in and take care of one another?\n\nThey reached the bend in the road. Max felt a little ache at the prospect of parting ways, like maybe he might be able to come up with some sort of reason for Dallas to spend the afternoon doing something, too. \n\nBut Dallas was a busy man, and he worked hard, and Max could wait 'til Sunday.\n\n\"I branch off this way. And you'll have to tolerate my mother hen fussing a moment longer so I can tell you that, if you Do Find yourself feelin' off-kilter or you just don't wanna be alone what with everything goin' on, I'm around with a pot of coffee or tea to put on the stove. Just because you live farther out don't mean you ain't a neighbor, Dallas Sinclair.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "Dallas had seen an awful lot in his time. Things he'd rather not dredge up; he wondered if, in the same amount of years they'd lived, that Max had seen things like he had. Sincerely, he hoped Max would never know the things he'd known; the grief, the agony. \n\nPerhaps he'd been a little lonelier than he'd realized. He wasn't sure when that had happened; he'd assumed that he was pretty content with being on his own. He had always told himself that— maybe he missed Addie more than he realized. It wasn't that Max reminded him of her; no, she was a breed all her own. She was full of rage, tantrums, fits and screams. She was vindictive where Max was... Well, he was tenderness. But perhaps it was wanting to Protect That Dallas missed... Perhaps he wasn't far off the mark. \n\nBut he wasn't sure if Max would understand that from him. Would anyone? Was he allowed to show that kind of emotion, besides an affectionate shoulder punch or ruffling up hair? \"Maybe I'll have to take ya up on that,\" He said, a rare smile stretching across his lips as he raised an eyebrow. It was almost shy, and a bit awkward; like his mouth wasn't used to making that specific expression. \n\n\"You sure are neighborly,\" He said to him, before nodding his head. \"You get on home now, before them spirits come track you down to play hopscotch or sumn,\" He said, before turning slowly on his heel to head back where he came from. He paused a moment and turned back over his shoulder. \n\n\"You sure you don't want me bringing none of them biscuits over on Sunday?\" He asked him, turning fully around but continuing to walk backward." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Dallas had a nice smile. It was just a shame he didn't wear one more often. But, well, they could work on that. Seemed they'd have the time. Wasn't that a nice thought?\n\nMax laughed as Dallas called back to him, walking backwards down the road. With an eye roll and a shake of his head, he shot back, \"You can bring your biscuits if you're prepared for a taste test against mine. Fair warnin', Dally, I wouldn't even bank on a sympathy vote from my brother's hound. Now get outta here! You're gonna fall on your ass if you don't watch where you're goin'!\"\n\nSmile softening, Max watched Dallas go a few more paces before he turned, too, to walk the path to his own doorstep. He glanced at the goldenseal in his hand, the one bundle he'd managed to hold onto.\n\nChrist. What a morning." } ]	376	1,031
267.6	2023-08-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Noah was so kind to him that, if the kindness has come from any other source, Max would have thought it a taunt. What other purpose would someone have for touching him so freely and with such tenderness? Max thought he might break from under the weight of it. But he wouldn't trade it for anything in all the world either. \n\nFrom Noah, the arm around his shoulders was no taunt. Nor were their clasped hands the night before. Noah was just good, in that plain and simple way. \n\nHe leaned ever so slightly against the sheriff's arm.\n\n\"Does that trouble you much? To hear and see them so regular?\" He asked, voice low, like the trees might hear them otherwise. And in a place like Briar Ridge, well, maybe they wasn't so far from the truth. \"Can you sense their intent? Do they seem - are they dangerous, do you think?\"" }, { "author": "Noah", "message": "\"Sometimes.\" The answer was honest, because Maxwell deserved honesty. But he also deserved elaboration. It was something Noah hadn't confided to anyone but his mother - and even then, it was only a matter of questions in passing, quickly glossed over with a shake of his head and a 'no, nevermind.'\n\nBut Max was listening and Max was sharing and Max talked to him like he couldn't do a thing wrong in the world. And that was awfully kind considering Noah figured he should know better. \n\nAnd Max was leaning into him and Noah was leaning a little back, if not literally then certainly emotionally. \n\n\"Sometimes it's troubling. But more in a sad way than a scared one. I don't think they've ever scared me so much as surprised.\" Startled, maybe. Until he got used to the cadence of sounds and feelings. \n\n\"I don't think they're dangerous - not these ones. Ain't ever seen 'em though.\" Which, he supposed, might be a blessing. He wasn't entirely sure how - or if - he'd handle the sight of the babies or his dear departed wife. He hadn't spent long pining for his lover but he sure missed the lifelong friend and mother of his children that he'd lost. And he didn't think she'd be angry with him for it. \n\n\"Dunno if it's my sad or theirs, though.\" If they were there at all. \"Could just be wishful thinking. I'm the only one who notices.\"" }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Max nodded along, listening. Quiet. Letting the crunch of pine needles on the path fill the space. \n\n\"If it means much, I don't think it's your imagination runnin' wild. I think - well, to start, you notice plenty that other folks don't. You're sensitive to other people in a rare way. So... It follows you'd be sensitive to the energies of those who're no longer living, too,\" Max said like it was easy - or at least like they could pretend it was. \n\n\"It ain't the same, but I know what you mean about not knowing where your sad ends and another's sad begins. I feel that way a lot. Gets more complicated when you add spirits to the equation, I s'pose.\"\n\nHe stopped on the path. If nothing else landed with Noah, it struck Max as important that this next bit seeped in. \n\n\"I believe you. Briar Ridge is a funny place that way. Maybe they just feel a little safer, communin' with you.\"" }, { "author": "Noah", "message": "From anyone else, Noah would have found the silence between his words uncomfortable. Might have tried to fill the space excessively with rambling explanations in a vain attempt to promise that he was Not Delusional, that he Knew He sounded crazy. \n\nBut Max never made him feel like the words coming out of his mouth were unwise nor unreasonable. Even when they were laced with and liberated by shine, Max indulged his rambling with uninterrupted gentleness. Never made him feel burdensome, even on the occasions he deserves it. Certainly not now. \n\n\"It means a lot.\" The world, even. He didn't much think to call himself sensitive but he supposed that read wasn't wrong. And Max would know - he Was Sensitive, even if it wasn't the same. \n\nThe admission only served to tighten Noah's arm around the younger man's shoulders, pulling him tight against his side as Maxwell's abrupt halt dragged Noah to a standstill with him, pivoting on one toe to face him direct. With his arm around Max's shoulders, near chest-to-chest in their newfound closeness. \"Thank you. For that. I...\"\n\nNear enough that words faded in the warmth of one body radiating to another, connected by a gentle thrum he couldn't blame on the pulsing August heat. His arm shifted, unsure if pulling away was the most reasonable thing to do, and immediately deciding against it when the roughness of his fingertips caught the softness of Max's honey blonde locks, teasing the baby hairs at his nape before he could think against it." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "If Max knew Noah to be so attuned to the people around him, why did he think himself an exception? What did Max think positioned him a step outside of Noah's gentle, confident perception? So much of Max's energy was dedicated to hiding from Noah - which was its own backwards act of devotion. Because oh, Max did not want to burden the sheriff and his brother's dearest friend with the reality that, to Max, Noah had always been the axis upon which his whole World Turned.\n\nBut maybe Noah already knew. Maybe, miracle of miracles, that fact didn't find him as a burden at all. Maybe it found him as a Gift - one he might even return.\n\nThere were only so many explanations for the placement of Noah's hand, after all; there were only so many roundabout ways Max could write off how Noah's fingers began to tease at the hair along the back of his neck, his palm warm and his hold as strong as it was so, so careful...\n\nMax's breath caught in his throat, and his heart leapt up to meet it there. His eyes were wide and nervous in a way that could not conceal the hopefulness they held in equal - maybe greater - measure. \n\nBecause, miracle of miracles, if Maxwell Morton didn't know any better, he thought Noah Rowe may be damn near about to kiss him. Max might even have kissed him himself, if the shock of the prospect hadn't frozen him in place." } ]	301	1,338
293.8	2023-08-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "The pounding in Max's ears was oceanic. He kept waiting for time to start again, for Noah's hand to slip off of his neck and back to his side and for this moment to be just another odd moment to add to their growing collection of odd moments. \n\nOr for Noah to kiss him.\n\nAnd then for the earth to open up and swallow them both, since that seemed about as likely to Maxwell. \n\nNoah broke their held gaze, locking instead on something just beyond them. Max felt Noah's muscles tense before he heard the wet, carnal sounds.\n\nThat was when Max made the mistake of turning his head to look. The color drained from his face. Lead filled his stomach. It was amazing the command even reached him.\n\nThere was a delay of half a second as Max translated the noise into a word. \n\n'Run.'\n\nMaxwell did not argue with Noah. But neither did Max intend to let Noah play hero, if that was what he intended to do. Unthinking, on impulse, despite the heaviness of his limbs and the fuzziness of his head, Max gave one terse nod, snatched up Noah by the wrist, and bolted down the path, catching himself as he nearly slipped on the blanket of pine needles." }, { "author": "Noah", "message": "If Max was worried that Noah intended to stay behind to stand their ground, he need not have bothered. But even in panic, Noah couldn't help thinking it was awful sweet of him to snatch his wrist up to haul him along too. \n\nThey could have run faster if they were not attached, but that would run them the risk of separation. Maxwell was lighter, probably more nimble, while Noah was longer but thicker, built sturdy and certainly more heavily. Max might have dashed through the woods with nary a flower disturbed underfoot, like the pretty and wild sort of thing that belonged there. \n\nNoah could not, and barreled through overgrowth and across fallen foliage, unable to tell if the crush and crack in his ears was flora underfoot or the thing behind them, spry and ambling on those legs that didn't look like they should support an ounce of weight. \n\nHis lungs screamed for air before he dragged Max off the beaten path, into a pocket of thick green, shoving him down to the blanket of crisp grass and dry leaves and tumbling after him, into the wide hollow of a tree he knew well as one he'd used for trapping many a time over. \n\nIt was blessedly empty now, save for them, the sheriff's body stretched over the length of Maxwell's, pinning him to the cool, dry curve of the trunk, ribs cutting into him with every muffled pant as he tries to steady his breath to listen." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Not for a Moment Did Max consider the prospect of disconnecting from Noah to run ahead without him. There was no time to consciously weigh his options; this was Instinct. Even instinct instructed him, clear as day, to remain conjoined with him. \n\nMax couldn't think about where he was running. The world was a blur; his vision pulsed with his heartbeat; he couldn't place the moment when he stopped leading the sprint and Noah took over - only that one moment they were on the path, and in the next they were tumbling through the overgrowth, into the open mouth of a tree hollow. \n\nSo. They'd been swallowed up by the earth after all. \n\nFor a snap of a second, maybe less, the thing that was Not A deer dissolved from the younger Morton's mind altogether - short-sighted, naive, Stupid. But there was no room there for the not-a-deer, not in that instant, because Max blinked into the present moment to reorient himself and his mind and his body and his spirit alike all zeroed in on Noah, on top of him. His weight. His heavy breathing. His smell - the lingering hints of the breakfast they'd shared mingling with the fresh sweat from the frenzied scramble. \n\nMax wanted Noah to put his hand back where he'd had it just a minute ago, wanted Noah to kiss him like he thought he might've done on the trail, wanted him to push his free hand under his shirt, wanted to call him 'Sheriff' even though he couldn't place what, exactly, coaxed the impulse to his gut... \n\nOnly Max would have made some sort of sound into Noah's mouth that he knew he would not be able to stop short. The creature would hear them, if it was around to hear. \n\nThat might be okay. Maybe it would be alright to kiss Noah and then die for kissing him. How was Maxwell Morton supposed to go on living afterwards anyway, if he did a thing like that which would turn the world so completely upside down?\n_ _\n\nMax did not make a sound. Max did not break eye contact with Noah. Max focused very, very hard on not looking at Noah's - The sheriff's - lips." }, { "author": "Noah", "message": "In another world, Noah thought it was possible that they were meant to enjoy this moment where their bodies were a tangle of limbs and a rush of heat. \n\nMaybe he could enjoy swallowing up the soft, sweet sounds he was bound to coax forth, maybe his pants wouldn't feel so uncomfortable as he fidgeted in an attempt to mask the feeling, and maybe he could slide a hand down to hook under Max's knee, drag it up to hitch on his hip, and–\n\nA soft Crunch Caught his first steady breath short in his lungs as his eyes spied Max's soft, full mouth in the half-light. \n\nListening. \n\nBut there was a skitter, a chitter – some forest rodent. Nothing lumbering. No drip of red or whiff of iron. No chattering. \n\nHe did not know how long they'd been folded into their alcove but he was nearly certain they were alone. \"You hurt?\" His voice came in a whisper, a breath against Max's lips that stemmed as much from his fear of being heard as his unwillingness to sacrifice their closeness. \n\n\"I don't want to move.\" Another whisper. A distinct truth. In no small part because he didn't want to wiggle free to find that thing nearer than he thought. But equally because he didn't want to budge from the knot they'd woven." }, { "author": "Maxwell", "message": "Noah was so close, Max could taste his words. And he was awful glad they'd opted for a morning walk. That meant Noah's words didn't yet taste like shine.\n\n\"No - no, I ain't hurt,\" Max whispered back, though his breathing was still shallow.\n\nThen don't move. Stay here, always. You don't have to kiss me. We don't have to touch more'n we are. We can stay here and breathe and I'll trick myself into thinking it's enough until I believe it all the way.\n\nMax would have begged. He wasn't above it, especially not when his adrenaline was spiked like it was. The only thing holding him back was the dreadful thought of Noah thinking less of him.\n\n\"We don't have to move 'til you're certain it's safe.\"" } ]	282	1,469
354.75	2023-08-11	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Noah", "message": "The old black model T was a bumpy ride with a finicky brake but it handled the rough, rock and dirt roads that connected the town of Briar Ridge and its neighboring areas with relative ease. The contraption wasn't much for giving up or breaking down, sputtered when she had a complaint, carried what was necessary, and kept the bugs off Noah's face while they were puttering along. It was all he could ask for. \n\nMan and car rolled to a slow stop in the lumberyard he'd never before set foot in and he left her idle for a moment before cutting the engine and hopping down to wander through towering leans of lumber and what seemed more like makeshift homesteading than much else. \n\nIt was not, however, wood or a project he was.After today. Not for the most part and certainly not by appearance. What he was after was the proprietor of the establishment and he was loath to surprise him too rudely by calling aloud blind amongst the clutter.\n\nLucky for him, didn't have to look long. He was met with the sight of his impromptu meeting companion not moments after he'd set for on the property and he offered the other man something tight-lipped and smile adjacent as he approached with a nod.\n\n\"Dallas Sinclair?\" He waited a moment to be acknowledged before stepping forward and offering his hand for a brief, firm shake. \"Noah Rowe. I'm the sheriff - don't believe we've had occasion to meet before.\" Which was just as well. It meant Dallas kept to himself and minded his own. \n\n\"I'd a couple things I wanted to talk about. First's business, if you got a moment. I need some doors.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "When the Sinclairs had rolled into town a few years ago, Dallas had been only a few months shy of twenty-two. He'd been working his ass off on the farm back in Tennessee since he was able to walk upright, and he was used to hard work. So, when he'd seen the opportunity to take over the old, run-down lumber yard... Well, he'd jumped at the chance. Carpentry had been a specialty of his back home, and he'd made himself good pocket money fixing doors and patching up fences. Making it his main source of income hadn't been the plan, but here he was, nearly five years later. Hard to believe it has been that damn long since they'd gotten here. Sometimes it felt like they'd been here forever. Sometimes it felt like he'd been here a day. \n\nHe was used to people coming to call for him, as much as he disliked the drop-ins, there wasn't much to do about it. Thankfully, when the sheriff rolled up, he hadn't been in the middle of anything too strenuous; he'd been loading up some plywood for a job across town, fixing up someone's front porch. He sucked his teeth as that old truck rattled over and parked, and he chose to pretend it wasn't there until the last moment. Making conversation wasn't his best skill— even if it was business. \n\nHe was sweating through his shirt, skin tinged red from the August sun on his nose and ears. \"That's right,\" He said to the sheriff as he approached, eyeing the hand before returning the firm shake. \"Can't say we've met, naw.\" He pulled his hand back and leaned back on his heels a bit, eyeing him over twice. \n\n\"I got doors,\" He said, tilting his head. He was short and sweet with words in most situations like this. \"When and where.\" A statement more than a question. \n\nHe wasn't sure what else the sheriff could wanna talk about, but he was sure he'd find out. Noah Rowe was an interesting looking fella, he noted off hand as he stood there. Sorta classically handsome, not much what he pictured when someone said Sheriff, but all the same. Hm." }, { "author": "Noah", "message": "Noah would have been sorry for dropping in unannounced, maybe, if the circumstances were skewed a little different. He wasn't much for surprise visitors either. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the nature of both their businesses. Folks who had problems rarely had the time to send up a courtesy message ahead of their arrival. \n\n\"Usually best that way. Just means we keep to ourselves.\" The corner of his lip quirked in wry amusement. \"April Baker's. Front door and basement door. I'd like a look at her storm doors too, if you can. Soon as you're able. She's a sweetheart, out there on her own with her little boys and I'd like a little reassurance they're safe considering how things have been. It'll be on my dime. I'll tell her you're comin' \"\n\nHis head tilted a little more subtly with his inspection. He hardly begrudged the once over when he was doing the same, inventorying him from the sweat-soaked clothes clinging to a firm working man's body in the summer sun to the stiffness in his jaw when he answered Noah's questions. Dally.\n\n\"Which brings me to my next bit,\" He drawled, stepping aside to lure the younger man into the shade. That sun was gonna roast him to hell. \"I'm thinkin' folks are gonna get real restless real soon about these damn attacks... You want a hand loadin' up while we talk?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"I seen her and the little'uns at church before,\" He said. He'd seen her face, knew her vaguely as a woman of good faith and always was one of the first to drop a few coins on the collection plate. She was always kind, too, and smiled at him sometimes when she passed him by. Not a woman who stuck out too much, but kind all the same. Typical motherly type. \n\n\"Yeah, I can go on and take a look later today,\" He said, looking towards the boards that lay on the ground by the bed of his truck. He gave a jerk of his head in lieu of verbal response, and resumed picking up a board to chuck it in the back. \"I'll take a gander at her stuff, make sure she's fixed and safe,\" He assured the sheriff. He was proud of his work— besides, how bad could the damage really be? \n\nHe could feel Noah's eyes burning into him, and he wasn't sure Why. Was he picking him apart, analyzing him? Was he sizing him up? No matter— maybe he was imagining it. \n\n\"I heard from Max that Yer fixin' to go tramplin' around the woods on a hunting party. Am I right on that?\" He asked, grunting as he picked up three boards to put in the back at once. \"...Your professional opinion, sheriff... What do you think we got running around here? Certainly ain't no Fuckin' bear, 'scuse my language.\"" } ]	328.5	1,419
246.666667	2023-08-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Noah", "message": "Noah wasn't sure what, exactly, rubbed him wrong about the observation, but he did not much like hearing sweet little April Baker referred to as That lady whose husband disappeared. Nevermind the truth of it. \n\n\"Ain't ruling out any possibilities,\" He offered evenly as he stepped off after Dallas toward the sawmill. \"I think whatever for in that house could've got anybody that's been hurt or gone as of late.\"\n\nDespite the set of his jaw at the accusation of his Panties in a twist, a twitch flicked across one brow before settling again. As far as he'd heard, he hadn't Chastised Anyone but if the residents of his town were intent on behaving outside of his advisement, he'd be quick to remind them. \n\nUntil then, he wasn't on the market for an argument. \n\nIn the meantime, he huffed out a chuckle. \"Not quite enough men for a brigade.\" Nevermind that he knew Dallas likely wasn't being literal. \"I'll be posting up a notice for volunteers, organizing accordingly. I imagine Sawyer Morton will take up with us. Most folk with a gun'll be itching to do something with themselves. I'll work with what I got.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He'd never been so good at talking to people; he always came across a little more gruff than he sometimes meant to. He had no ill-will against April Baker, nor her family— but by all truth, he really didn't know much about her besides the little he'd seen her at church, and all the hoopla about her missing husband last year. \n\nBut he didn't even seem to notice the sheriff's irritation at his words, and continued loading up his tool box with all the things he'd need for the job. \"JD wanted to join up, I'll let him know that everybody 'n anybody is joining.\" He cleared his throat. \n\nHis workspace wasn't very neat, and he was running a hand through his hair as he went searching for something amongst the mess of tools. His own home wasn't this messy, of course, but it was a good insight into his mental space— a cluttered mess. \n\n\"I ain't too familiar with Sawyer Morton but I know his brother,\" He said. \"And I s'pose I'll see him on Sunday,\" He cleared his throat and shrugged. \"And I figger you'll also be there?\" He raised an eyebrow. \"That's what I heard, at least.\" \n\nIt wasn't an accusation, necessarily. He didn't know what that would even be an accusation Of. \"Anyway, I will join up with yer little troop and help ya out. Yer gonna need the manpower.\"" }, { "author": "Noah", "message": "Yes, he was Aware That Dallas was acquainted with Sawyer's brother. Though he couldn't quite put his finger on why that reminder or its delivery might make his his insides flare hot and prickle something fierce. \"Mortons are good folk. I often see 'em Sundays.\" \n\nNot so often as part of a party, though. \n\n\"You'n JD will both be more than welcome, then. I'm lookin' for regular patrols for a while, but particularly on the full moon nights seeing the way they've been going. You pass by the farm store sometime today and Sawyer can get you set up on a few homes.\" \n\nNoah's eyes followed Sawyers, tracking the span of the desk and its loosely arrayed contents. \"What're you lookin' for? I'll help you find it.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"Yeah, they're good folk,\" He said, passively. There was a strangeness to Noah's demeanor that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he decided it was probably just the stress of this week's unrest. That would turn any man a little strange, it seemed. \n\nNonetheless, he hadn't meant to get Noah all fired up. Honestly, he wasn't looking for a fight— frankly, if it came down to it, he could throw a few punches good and well and had often done so when he was right pissed off... But he wasn't sure these types of things were anything to get hostile over. \n\n\"I got it,\" He said, admittedly... A bit defensive. He moved a few things aside and located the tool before sticking it in the tool box. \"There's a... Method here, I swear,\" He said, gesturing vaguely to his stuff and shaking his head. \"I just ain't had the time t'...\" He shook his head again in defeat. \n\n\"I'll stop by the farm store and see Sawyer 'bout all that,\" Though he didn't sound thrilled. Talking to people was, again, not his strong suit. He was particularly thinking about telling Max he couldn't come by on Sunday anymore; sociable things weren't his forte, after all." }, { "author": "Noah", "message": "\"Ain't gotta defend your method to me.\" A hand lifted to rake through his hair, eyes following the recovered tool from the wreckage of the desk. It wasn't his work space, it didn't need to adhere to his standards for neatness. \n\nHe should probably be as quick to remind himself of other things that weren't his business. Like who Maxwell spent his time with so long as they weren't hurting him - and it wasn't that damn Banker's boy. Dallas didn't seem like the sort to mean harm. Just a bit of a recluse. Noah could sympathize. Or should, anyhow. \n\n\"Sure. Nobody's got much time for anything right now. Don't imagine you're any different.\" Not with this lumber yard soon to be working overtime on damage control. Noah predicted a significant influx of orders soon enough. \n\n\"Appreciated. He'll be glad to see you, I'm sure.\" Or at least, Noah would advise him that he should be when he stopped by ahead of Dallas to let him know he'd soon have company. \"When you get ready to bill April's door, send it to me. I'll see to it. Sale or trade, whatever's convenient to you.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"It'll be a quick fix,\" He said to him with a shake of his head. \"It ain't gonna take me no more'n an hour... Two...\" He considered it a moment before he spoke. \n\n\"Don' even worry it none. I ain't gonna charge,\" He said. \"Consider it community work,\" He cleared his throat and shrugged as he hefted his tools off the workbench and carried them to the truck; tossing them in the back alongside the wood they'd piled up. \n\nIf he could read Noah's inner thoughts, he'd have tried to lay any of those worries to rest. It wasn't like Maxwell was keen on him Like that None. There wouldn't be any kind of talk like that if he knew. He wasn't even so sure that Max didn't think he was strange— at this rate, he definitely figured the man was taking pity on him for all the social cues he missed and his inability to cook. Ah, well. \n\n\"So, sheriff, guess I'll be off with them repairs. You let me know if y'all need me elsewhere?\" He jangled his keys a little." } ]	252.5	1,480
178	2023-08-11	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Darlene Rowerty", "message": "Darlene had finally convinced Alma to tag along. \n\nShe was beginning to worry that maybe her friend wouldn't... Recover. This was the first time they'd gotten to spend together since their picnic, and Darlene still didn't believe she was completely okay, but didn't want Alma to keep herself isolated like that. It wasn't healthy. Plus, a little bit of movement would be good for that banged up leg, right? \n\nDarlene spent hours picking an outfit and curling her hair. Why? Well, that's just what she did best. She cared deeply about her appearance, even out in the dirt and twigs. Did she want to impress? Maybe, but only herself. Her ghingam top was only slightly messy by the time they'd reached their current position. She rushed to lean against the log excitedly. \"Ooh!Fairy rings! C'mon, guys!! I wanna see the fairies!\"" }, { "author": "hawker_hurricane0", "message": "What would be a good way to keep her mind off all her problems? Well, work was always the first choice, but so was meeting up with some friends. \n\nSure, Akira may have the social skills of a potato, especially around other ladies, but she accepted the offer as a good way to keep everyone's spirits up!\n\nThe woman was keeping her pace, mostly due to the fact that anything would distract her. The leaves on the trees, a squirrel that would climb up on the branches, and-\n\n\"Mushrooms...?\"Aki blinked a few times and wasted no time to check what Alma had found, following Darlene right behind.\n\n\"Oh my-!That's adorable!\" She kneeled down, giggling. \"Ya think it's a lil mushroom village?\"" }, { "author": "Margaret Tanager", "message": "Maggie was sweating like a pig. She wasn't used to hiking on foot, and the years of relying on a horse to tackle tough ground for her had left her out of practice. Even still, she was enjoying the time outside in nature, especially with the three others there to watch her back - a luxury she didn't often have.\n\nHer choice of clothing, jeans and a powder blue shirt, though practical for the wilds, made the heat of the late summer smother her even more. A rifle was slung around her shoulder and, as usual, she had her Colt 1911 buried in a holster at her right hip, waiting to meet whatever could be out there.\n\n\"Hmm?\" She skipped over to the others, all congregating around the ring of mushrooms.\n\n\"I always thought these rings looked so creepy, my daddy used to say if you stand in the middle you can make a wish.\"" } ]	185	534
434.333333	2023-06-08	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "Alma was nervous. Of course, she was typically nervous. Growing up, her mother had slapped her wrist plenty of times with the flat side of a knife for the way she'd shake the dinner table with her ceaseless foot tapping. Now, she nervously bunched her fists in her skirts to keep herself from opening the smoker for the hundredth time and prayed that the cotton might keep her palms from sweating so much.\n\nNormally a lunch with Darlene was a pleasure. There were no expectations beyond maybe giggling over some boys that mighta caught their eye or sharing some berry wine recipes, but Alma just couldn't get her mind off the fact that Papa still hadn't come home. She'd been a nervous wreck about it for days now, and it showed. The careful bun Alma had constructed this morning was a frazzled mess, threatening to fall apart over a solid gust of wind. The bags under her bloodshot eyes betrayed the sleepless nights she'd spent distracting herself at her Mama's still. And she'd dropped two eggs right onto the kitchen floor when she was making the deviled eggs.\n\nAnd now? Now she was just nervous about being nervous. \n\nAlma liked Darlene. She was fun! Alma herself... Was not. But she wanted to be! She so desperately needed fun. So, she asked her Mama to help her smoke some brisket, washed her softest picnic blanket, whipped up some deviled eggs, soaked some watermelon slices in a Mason jar, kneaded up the dough for blackberry pie— it was enough to feed a whole family! But, if Alma's hands stopped working, she'd go back to worrying. It was much better for her to cook! \n\nAlma wouldn't even notice her friend's approach on their famously creaky front porch steps until the family's old hound dog announced Darlene's arrival. \"Oh, sugar!\" Alma 'cursed' as she stumbled around the side of the house, a jolt of pain shooting through her ankle as she stepped in a hole one of the chickens had dug up. \"I'm around back!\" She called breathlessly, leaning against their wooden wall in a de\n\nSperate attempt to save face. She put a hand on her hip and tried a smile on. The hound dog's excited braying didn't stop until Alma snapped her fingers at him. \"You hush now! You know Darlene! Mama's gon' be real mad if you wake her up and you know it!\"" }, { "author": "Darlene Rowerty", "message": "Darlene liked going to parties. Hell, she was practically known for her ability to hold her drink while she danced. This was another one of those get togethers she'd been waitin' on for a minute now- how often was it that she was able to get this mysterious little lady out for a day in the sun? Alma was so quiet, but Darlene didn't mind it all that much; she was a good listener. Papa Rowerty let her use what was left of the eggs to bake a batch of raspberry cookies, which... Were admittedly halfway gone by the time her heels clacked against those old annoying floorboards. \n\nHer hips swayed and bounced as she followed that voice, holding the plate of cookies at her side. \"I brought cookies, sugar- oh! Hey, honey- hey, now!\" She let out a melodious, unfiltered chortle when the pup jumped up to plant kisses all over her cheeks. \"Y'all missed me that much, huh? Sweet thing. Hush, now. Sit!\" She slipped a tiny piece of cookie into its mouth after it settled down. The blonde let out a pleased hum when she herself got a good whiff of the air, \"Ooh, honey! Smells better than a rich man's empty pockets, and trust me, ain't much smells better than that. Ain't it just beautiful today?\" \n\nShe paused, noticing Alma's awkward position. \"Are you okay, sugar?\"" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "\"Lord help us,\" Alma whispered under her breath. It was less a prayer and more of an exasperated curse as she overheard poor Darlene get accosted by Dog. The old hunting hound just couldn't help himself! Especially when someone smelled like food! Soon as the word 'sit' left Darlene's lips, the dog sat his rump right down as if there had never been a rowdy bone in his body. \n\n\"It's a wonder he likes you so much! The poor thing acts as if he ain't seen a spec of food in his life!\" Alma laughed through the pain - which was fading quick! - and tucked a wild section of hair behind her ear. Of course, Darlene looked put together as ever. Cookies and all. But a thick glob of drool dangled from Dog's lips now that he'd gotten a scrap, and it threatened to land right on Darlene's dress if she wasn't careful. \n\n\"You can thank Mama for that! If it wasn't for her, I doubt I'd ever have been able to figure out Memaw Cooper's recipe cards! But I appreciate the kindness! I just figured a day like today shouldn't be wasted inside, so we got the smoker going!\" \n\nAlma took a hesitant step forward, but it was a bit more of a hobble than she would have liked. So much for saving face. \"Those gosh dang chickens got me again!\" She admitted, an embarrassed flush coming quick to her cheeks. \"I told Dog here to keep them off the side of the house, but he's too friendly for his own good!\" She feigned an exasperated look and Dog's tail kept thudding happily on the wooden porch as if he understood any of it. \"But don't you worry about me! I'm just fine. Are you thirsty?\" She was all too happy to divert attention away from herself before she started squirming. \"I just made a fresh batch of sweet tea, and I'm sure you must be awful tired after all that walking!\" Alma hobbled up the steps of the wrap around porch, finding each step easier than the last. \"You can come in through the back here if you'd like!\" Alma tugged open the kitchen door for Darlene, where their feast was waiting to be ca\n\nRried up the hill to the picnic blanket in the backyard." } ]	490	1,303
178.222222	2023-08-13	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "In the time that JD had lived in the town, he had not made many friends. Though he had a couple, he was just not.. The most social. For the main part, he went to work, to the store and home. Other than that, he mostly kept to himself. \n\nPart of it was because it was what he was used to it, and part of it was that he just wasn't sure how to.. Maintain friendships. He had spent so much time with his family, that it felt useless trying to talk to people outside of that circle. But he knew when he moved he would have to make some. It only made sense that one of those friends would be his boss, since work was a place that he spent a lot of his time. \n\nHe made his way through the brush towards his boss, Dallas' canon, and when he arrived he knocked on the door, a box of beers in one hand. \n\nHe figured he would get out and do some socializing tonight, something that was rare for him, but not unheard of." }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He hadn't been rightfully expecting someone, so when the knock came, he could only imagine it was either JD or someone calling on him to fix something. He'd been trying his damnedest to cook himself something, but he was having a hard time getting the damned fire lit to start. This wasn't usually such a problem, but the matches refused to light. He abandoned the task and pulled the door open, eyes immediately going to the box and sucking his teeth. \n\n\"Now where'd you go and find them?\" He asked. With the whole prohibition nonsense going on, finding that kind of stuff was hard— but by the looks of how dusty it was, he supposed it must've been old. \n\nHe pulled JD inside and closed the door behind him. He was wiping his hands off on a rag and tossing it down on the table. \"You here for yer money? I got it,\" He told him. \"Just gimme a second to sort it.\"" }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "He smiled a bit when the other opened the door, and held up the box a bit for him to get a good look. At the question he shrugged, \"If I tell you that, I'm completely indispensable. No need for me if you can get it yourself..\" He said as he looked down it. \n\nHe was kidding of course, and shrugged. \"I drove into a town a little out of the way, had a buddy I met a couple years back when I was traveling here, he's got a stockpile in his basement. So I bought some.. I'm all about moonshine, but damn do I miss beer. I thought you might too.\" He said as he was pulled inside. \n\nHe set the beers on the table, and shook his head. \"Not really.. You don't gotta worry about that right now.. I Can uh get it later.\" He said with a nod. \"I just.. Came to see if you wanted to have a drink with me.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "The proposal caught him off guard— he supposed he did consider JD a friend of sorts. Did someone count as a friend if you mostly paid them to be in the same place as you? He wasn't sure. Well, either way, it was rare that they hung out like this... But JD had been right, and he had missed the taste of beer. \n\nHe dropped down into a chair and gestured to the one across from him. \"Take a seat,\" He said. \"S'pose we can share a few drinks. You been hearing about them attacks?\" He asked him curiously. \"Nasty business.\"" }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "He nodded and sat across from the other. \"Thanks..\" He said as he took out two beers from the box, handing Dallas one of them before opening one of them up himself with his teeth. \n\n\"Sure have.\" He said taking in a deep breath and taking a sip of the beer. It was old but.. Wasn't too bad. \"It's awful.. Makes you nervous to be out at night. I started carrying my knife again, I had stopped for a while because the town is so.. Quaint.\" He said with a shrug. \n\n\"I'm out at night a lot though, I like to fish then so.. Figured better safe than sorry.\" He said with a nod. \"Must be some kind of big animal.\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He pulled his knife out and opened the bottle, watching it hit the table, half bent. \"Ya need to stop that, or yer gonna get yerself killed like that damn Beaux,\" He reminded him. \"And that Abrams fella too. You need to stay indoors, thems orders from yer boss. Then again... I guess if you croak, I don't gotta pay you.\" \n\nThat was Dallas' form of a joke, in a way. He wasn't exactly the funniest guy around. \"Ain't no damn animal I ever seen. Or heard. Heard it was massive, whatever it was. I'on think it's something quite... Natural,\" He admitted. After seeing what he'd seen the other day, anything was possible. \n\n\"You believe in spirits?\" He asked curiously." }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "He laughed a little bit and took another sip. \"Fair point.. You'd save some money but you'd be out a worker. Then you'd have to go through the whole interview process again.\" He said with a shrug. \"That would be a pain.\" \n\nAs he continued talking he nodded, \"I've heard some whispers..\" He said as he leaned back in the chair. \n\nAt the question, he nodded. \"Sure do.. I've seen em', back home mostly. Do you?\"" }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He nodded solemnly after a moment. \"Don't go tellin' nobody this,\" He told him seriously as he sat forward a little. His arms rested on the table as his eyes got this sort of... Far away look in them for a moment. \n\n\"I seen something the other day.\" He said. \"Was out walkin' along the deer path and came across a fella. We was talkin' a while, until we both saw... That's the only reason I know I ain't seein' things. Cuz we both seen it.\" \n\nHe cleared his throat. \"It didn't spook me, but it did make me think that... Well. These spirits were disturbed by somethin' in these woods. Whatever it is, it's scarin' the things that wanna scare us.\" \n\nHe shook his head. \"Two kids, y'see? Wet like they'd just been pulled outta the river.\" It had been awful to see; downright heartbreaking, actually." }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "As the other's tone got more serious, he leaned in closer and listened. What he was saying made JD stop and think for a moment. Huh. He had seen spirits before, back home, something that was uncommon up there in the mountains, but this was much more clear than the figures he had seen back home. \n\nHe furrowed his brows and thought for a moment, \"That is heart breaking.\" He said sucking in some air as he took another sip of his beer and shook his head. \n\n\"So you don't think these are animal attacks?\" He asked arching a brow. \"Do you think that means it can't be killed?\" He asked as he took another big sip. \n\n\"Because I was thinkin' the other day, that maybe some of the men should get guns, and start patrolling. You know? Take care of the problem at its root.\" He said with a nod. \"I don't see how else this problem is going to resolve itself.. This ain't no one off thing anymore.\" He said with a shrug. \n\n\"Shame we can't just ask the spirits. Bet they'd know.\"" } ]	195	1,604
239.166667	2023-10-14	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "sprite_pepsi", "message": "[ This interaction has ended ]" }, { "author": "Addie Sinclair", "message": "Currently this young lady's life was falling apart right in front of her eyes, making her land back at square one. The thing was... It was all her damn fault. Sure, she wouldn't admit it to nobody but herself... But guilt was eating her up. And everybody knows stress ain't good for the baby. Which... Had only made her stress more. \n\nThose few nights in the motel felt like years. She had never been someone to do well with loneliness. She rather talk to the devil himself before starring at a ceiling and being left with her own thoughts and how God would judge her. \n\nEven when she was on the train there wasn't much talk to be havin'. Just window gazing and trying to leave her body thinkin' about what could've been. \n\nShe recalled getting to a certain point and her body had a reaction. A fear of wanting to go back. Call that motherly instict... But Briar Ridge had always been a place to fear. A lonely place. A poor place. A place where he big dreams couldn't fit no more. No one would want her with that baby. And her biggest fear was having to depend on her brother for the rest of her life. She had shed a tear on that train, wiping it away quickly. \n\nNow she had made it to the porch. Two large suitcases dropped down at her feet as she looked over the door. It seemed so much older even though she had only been gone two years... \n\nShe gave a knock, making it nice and strong so she could get in there and stop shiverin' in her fancy coat. Made to be pretty, not to keep her arms from fallin' off." }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "The letter had only come through a mere day before her arrival. Postal was slow in Briar Ridge, but somehow that letter had come just in time. Unfortunately, he couldn't warn her that this was not the place to be. While Dallas missed his sister profusely, there was a part of him that had been glad she was in the city. Away from beasts and guns and safe houses. Now, for once, he was nearly begging her to go back. \n\nIt didn't matter. She was already on her way, and if there was one thing clear— Dallas Sinclair was not turning away family. And he wouldn't let no damn werewolf touch his baby sister. \n\nHe'd cleaned up the place— her room hadn't been touched since she left it. He'd dusted the cobwebs off and got everything situated for her, too. This would be a readjustment that he could handle. \n\nThe knock came, sharp against the wood, and he moved from the table to the door and wrenched it open. There she was; all 5 foot somethin', furrowed brows and a pout as she chattered on their front porch. \n\n\"What're you knockin' for? Get inside.\" He told her, pulling her in. The fire was going already, thankfully; he took a moment to observe her. \"You really are pregnant, Addie,\" He said. And Very Pregnant at that. She could pop any day now, it looked like. \n\n\"You came at one hell of a time,\" He said, shaking his head. \"But I'm glad Yer home either way.\"" }, { "author": "Addie Sinclair", "message": "It was like the door was being opened in slow motion. God knows what she had missed, how her brother was holdin' up in there. She knew he had never been the cleanest, the best cook or... Well anything besides livin' his simple life. She felt relief when she saw his face, though her pout had become a permanent fixture on her face. And even though he looked good, the first thing to come out her mouth was.. \n\n\"You look like shit.\" She grinned and came in, wrapping her arms around herself. \"It somehow wasn't my last choice to come back her but, it's the only one I could think of bein'- stable... I guess.\" She looked at him, expecting him to grab her luggage from the porch while she moved closer to the fire. \n\n\"You know, half my pregnancy i've been thinkin' about how mama had to carry your huge self for those nine months.\" She shook her head. \"I bet I was the easy pregnancy.\" She helped herself to have a seat. It was odd to feel like a stranger in what used to be your own home... But she had changed a lot. Seen more of the many sights of the world, tastes luxury... \n\nThis place was sadder than she remembered." }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He grabbed her bags off the porch automatically— though Dallas said he didn't let Addie get away with anything, that just wasn't the truth. He was a bit of a pushover in his own right; whether that was to placate the screaming, or maybe because she was his baby sister. \n\n\"Yeah, well, I been through the shit and then some,\" He replied to her. \"I was the easier child,\" He reminded her, putting her bags in her room for her. \n\n\"Addie, you gotta understand somethin', bein' back in Briar Ridge and all.\" He turned to face her. \"You can't be goin' out at night no more. Specially not on the full moon. Stuff's been... Happenin' and I don't want you to get hurt. Alright? Can you listen to me for once on that?\" \n\nNot like it would be easy to slip out the window when she was about as wide as a whale, at least. \"When's the baby due?\" He asked. \"That son of a bitch— I knew he ain't ever been good for ya.\"" }, { "author": "Addie Sinclair", "message": "\"Quite don't mean easy.\" She argued and leaned back where she sat, watching the way the fire burned. She had been so emotionally exhausted these last few days and she didn't have a dramatic fit in her yet. But she wouldn't be known as the bad child. Nuh uh. \n\n\"What exactly do you think i'm doin'? Fresh back from the city you think i'm sneakin' out to see boys? Find me a new daddy for the baby?\" She raised a brow, looking over her shoulder at him from where she sat. \"I'm a grown woman now. And I know finer things in life than sneakin' out the back door.\" She looked down at her belly and placed her hand on top of it. \n\n\"I ain't doin' shit till this one's out of me. I've got barely a month left. Have to start making some arrangements for the birth now that I can't see that real good doctor Philip. He wore these real fancy shoes, something you can't even imagine.\" She said with a smile, already missing all those nice things.\n\n\"Brian ain't nothin' to me anymore... He won't be seein' his baby or me ever again...\"" } ]	255	1,435
228	2023-10-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "\"We been doin' just fine here without all them fancy whirligigs they got in the city,\" He pointed out. \"Yer gonna do just fine. And I'm sure yer gonna get that boy.\" He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, looking her in the eyes. \n\n\"Really listen t' me, Addie. I'm serious.\" He looked her up and down a moment. \"There's been some attacks. On the full moon— beasts. Y'know all them stories we used to hear? Bought what lurks in them woods? Ain't stories no more.\" \n\nHe let go of her shoulder and leaned back; turning his arm over to show her the teeth marks still in his arm. They were fading now since the scuffle, but still enough to see. \n\n\"Got a few people laid up in the hospital still recovering. Only ever attack on them full moons— but don't you worry. Ain't nobody gonna get to you, I promise you that.\" He said. \"Or I'll blast em sky high.\"" }, { "author": "Addie Sinclair", "message": "Addie knee those stories pretty well. She had always been so scared as a little girl of the monsters under her bed and wondering if that was just a branch tapping her window or what else. And if Dallas were younger, maybe he would just being trying to scare her right now. \n\nBut the bite on her arm, and that look in her eye, she felt her stomach drop. Something real bad was going on at Briar ridge. And she was doomed coming back here wasn't she? \n\n\"On the full moons...?\" She made a worried face and gently touched the marks on his arm before cringing and pulling her hand away. \n\n\"How long has this been goin' on? You didn't try to write me or nothin'??\" She would have managed herself back in the city somehow if she knew how dangerous this was- though that probably would've ended badly." }, { "author": "Dallas Sinclair", "message": "He grit his teeth. \"I didn't think you were ever comin' back here, Addie. And I was a little busy... Ya know, gettin' bit by damn werewolves.\" He said, gesturing to the outside world. He was frustrated and worried; worried about her, the baby, the Town... \n\n\"You ain't sent me a letter or nothin' in two years. I ain't know where you were to send you a damn letter to begin with!\" He pointed out. \"You left here with that damn Summer boy and said that was the last I'd ever see of you.\" \n\nHe didn't like that his voice got a little softer, a little more vulnerable. Addie wasn't someone who cared for vulnerability most of the time. He needed to suck it up. \"I figured it was best I leave you alone. That you ain't comin' back anyway, so why bother lettin' you know?\" \n\nHe looked down at the floor and then to the window. It was gloomy, a little chilly— looked like it was about to rain, too. \"Been goin' on a few months now. Since the late spring... Early summer.\" He ran a hand through his hair in thought. \"If I knew, I woulda told you to stay in the city. Woulda sent you some money or something. But Yer here now.\"" } ]	216	684
375.133333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "It was never good news when Dimitra found herself Bored. It was when the letters hadn't come in yet about shipment supplies, or there was nothing fun to do in town, was when she went looking for people to bother. Oftentimes, she'd go find some cuddly critter to harass, or maybe tuck into a barn to brush the horses for fun. But it all felt so mundane today— so, she was promptly flinging open the doors to Bigby's General Store and setting her sights on one Carina. \n\nThe bell jingled as she went in, and she smiled with delight as she saw her target behind the counter. \"Good morning,\" She cooed, leaning on the counter. \"You know, the store looks lovely this morning. Did you do something with your hair?\" Dimitra had a knack for firing off questions with little time to answer before jumping straight to the point. \"When are you off?\" She asked her, tapping her fingers on the counter rapidly. \"Or rather, I'm curious... If I'm allowed to be here,\" She asked. \"Or behind there with you, if you'll let me. I've never worked a counter before. Is it fun, or terribly boring? I'd think I'd fall asleep if I had to stand still all day.\" \n\nShe cracked a wider smile as she tilted her head to the side, an expectant grin lighting up." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA", "message": "Couldn't a shopkeep mind her good GodDamn business in this town without some wild woman bursting in on her? Carina nearly scattered a canister of matchsticks across the town at Dimitra's loud and jingley entrance. She had plenty of time to collect herself in the time that elapsed between Dimitra's initial hello and the subsequent five million questions. \n\n\"Lord alive, Miss Florakis.\" She breathed, indignant and slightly pink from the last few phrases of the barrage in particular. \n\"Would you like me to answer all those or are you just practicing your filibuster?\" Carina set the canister of matches down and gingerly replaced the lid, lining it up into a row of similarly sized containers along the counter, peeking over at Dimitra as she did so. Damn that grin. Damn That dark hair. \n\nAs much as Dimitra's chaos upset her, it excited her. The other woman's unpredictability was a good few levels below that of one Austin Kelly, as went the lineup of rabid broads here in Briar Ridge. The ice pick was well hidden today, so Carina wasn't too worried about a copycat performance, and she could simply enjoy the vibrant energy that Dimitra ushered in. She even allowed herself to play along. \n\n\"You really noticed my hair?\" She asked, coyly, as she polished some finger smudges off of a glass candy jar. Carina had curled it a bit today, like Mrs. Bigby had shown her when she was still young— leaving the iron on the top of the wood stove to get hot but not too hot! \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "She beamed, waving her hand around as she looked about the shelves of the general store. Her fingertips brushed the wooden shelves, looking at labels and such— peering at jars with peculiar interest. \n\n\"You know me, Carina,\" She flashed her a grin and returned to the counter. \"It's hard for me to sit still, let alone keep my mouth shut.\" She laughed aloud, head tipped back, before she planted her hands flat on the counter. She could've easily walked around, but instead, she boosted herself and swung her legs up and over the wooden counter. Her skirts went upward a little, ruffling themselves together, before her shoes touched down on the wooden boards on the opposite side of the counter. \n\n\"Of course I noticed your hair,\" She scoffed a little. \"I like it. It suits you. It's elegant.\" She popped her hand into a candy jar, rolling the sugary sweet between her fingers before popping it in her mouth. She was sure Carina would add it to her weekly tab, anyhow. \n\n\"So, all dolled up and nowhere to go?\" She asked. \"Unless... You're having a secret rendezvous?\" She raised her eyebrows and scanned the room. It was hilarious to think that of Carina; and how scandalous it would all be. Dimitra moved closer, touching one of the little curls she'd done with the hot iron. \"You should do it more often. It really suits you.\"" }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA", "message": "That laugh again. What did Carina's laugh sound like to Dimitra? Had she ever even demonstrated it for her? Lost to the thought, Carina missed the moment where the other woman placed herself on the counter. \n\n\"DiMiTra!\" She buzzed, blood rushing to her face. If Mrs. Bigby had been here to see such behavior! And Dimitra was stealing candy again! Furious, Carina replaced the lid to the canister with a Clink Of glass, nearly shattering it, and shuffled it out of Dimitra's reach— nevermind there were several more jars of sweets in the immediate vicinity to steal from. \n\n\"Of course I had somewhere to go. I am here at Work, Where I Sell Things to good paying customers.\" She huffed, watching Dimitra with tented brows and crossed arms as the other woman inched towards her. No sooner than Dimitra had touched Carina's hair, the shopkeep unhooked the latch that held shut the small hinged door that opened to the patron side of the counter. With her hands on Dimitra's shoulders, she ushered the other woman through and slammed the gate shut.\n\n\"I'll rendezvous with the Sheriff if you don't pay your bill here— it's been a month, now, Dimitra. Honestly.\" Carina crossed her arms over her chest again— her signature look. Pouty sixteen-year-old was Sooo 1927. Still, she needed to make a convincing case for her scolding, even though she regretted it as soon as it was uttered. With the threat of the Sheriff in the air, would Dimitra stop coming around? If Dimitra stopped coming around, who would feed her compliments? \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "The shrill call of the shopkeep's voice had Dimitra howling with laughter all over again, as she pressed the candy into her cheek; much like a squirrel tucking away a nut for winter. As Carina busied herself with taking the candy jar from her, she was already finding her sticky (no pun intended) fingers in another jar, humming in delight at the licorice she was tucking into her palm greedily. \n\nFinding herself on the other side of the counter again, it was Dimitra's turn to pout. She popped another piece of licorice in her mouth and chewed, eyes flickering about the woman's furious face. \"Carina,\" She cooed. \"Don't be like that. I can pay my tab, I promise. I'll even pay it right now, if you want me to! Have you ever thought maybe I just like bothering you and making you get in a tizzy?\" She dumped her palm full of licorice onto the counter, abandoning it briefly to dig in her pockets and procure a coin purse. \"How much do I owe?\" She asked, eyes glimmering. \n\n\"Would you honest-to-god call the Sheriff on me?\" She asked her curiously, leaning her elbows on the counter as she looked over at her. \"I'm slippery, you know.\" She popped a piece of candy in her mouth with emphasis. \"I'm a loyal customer here, you know,\" She said, as if reminding her of something very important. \"So... You should let me come back behind the counter again.\" This time, at least, she was reaching around to fiddle with the gate latch to let herself back behind the counter once more." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA", "message": "\"That's $2.73. $2.89 with the licorice.\" She pulled out a slip of paper from a drawer in the cash register, placing it on the counter to indicate, Yes, She would like to be paid now. Business before pleasure. She did not address Dimitra's hypothetical explanation for visiting the store so often. \n\nCarina was nervous, waiting for the money. If this was just the same as any other transaction, why was her heart pounding? She was thinking of Dimitra's hands as her fingers unpeeled to drop the candy on the counter. She was thinking of Dimitra's mouth, lips pursed around the sweets in her cheek.\n\n\"No, I wouldn't call the Sheriff.\" Carina sighed, annoyed to be called out, fiddling with a pad of paper on the counter out of Dimitra's view. She looked up when the woman called herself \"Slippery,\" Allowing a coy kind of smirk to spread over her expression. Flirting came strangely natural to Carina, though she wouldn't label the interactions as such. If ever confronted with the Why Of the matter, she may have supplied that it was the volley of wit that appealed to her and maybe also the lyrical display of feminine power. To flirt with a man was brutish and crude, though. A man's hands were not so beautiful and fine. A man's mouth was rough hewn and produced dissonant sounds. So obvious were these divides that Carina barely ever stopped to classify her preferences as a distinct sexual leaning. She supposed that all women preferred the touches and sweet glances of another woman; bedding men was simply a path to a family, which Carina had no interest in, anyway. She idly wondered where Dimitra stood on the issue. \n_ _\n\n\"Loyal customer, yes. Employee? No. You common folk have full roam of the Other Side of the counter. Isn't that enough for you?\" Her smile was still in place. It seemed that the resolution of the payment issue had opened her up to other engagement styles. Her curls fell down around her face as she bent to pry Dimitra's hand away from the gate latch. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "Dimitra smiled as she put the money on the counter, letting the coins clink together as she slid it across. She easily popped another piece of licorice in her mouth, tongue briefly darting out to taste the sweetness on her lips. It was an acquired taste, licorice— she'd always loved it, but her brothers had hated it. She'd figured it was a misunderstood candy; it's distinct anise flavor had always been a particular favorite of hers. In her humble opinion, the kind supplied by the Bigby's general store was by far some of the best. \n\nHer fingers held tight to the latch and her eyes glittered as she wrapped her fingers around Carina's and gently bumped the gate with her hip; watching it swing open so she could take a step behind the counter. \n\n\"What's the matter? No one else is here!\" She pointed out, leaning there and reaching to eat another piece of licorice. \"You want one?\" She offered her a piece, holding it out to her. \"And to be described as Common folk! You're really killing me, Carina! I thought I was a little more than Common folk To you.\" She pouted just a little bit and smiled right after, one of those mischievous grins she was so well known for. \n\n\"What're you doing after work?\" She asked her suddenly. \"You know, you've never been by my place!\" Dimitra was making herself right at home, touching everything she shouldn't behind the counter. \"You could come by, we could make a whole night of it with a bottle from my personal collection.\" She winked." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Oh, christsake, was it a sin to let Dimitra overpower her? Was it sacrilege to let someone behind the counter? In truth, to Carina, it kind of was. This job was the closest thing she had to the rituals of religion, and her purpose here felt holy. Still, she felt Dimitra's closeness and couldn't deny that it seemed a little like a prayer. Her eyes crossed to look at the licorice on offer, held so close to her lips. \n\nShe gingerly took the candy and carefully placed it on her tongue, meeting Dimitra's eyes as she stepped back to let space open between them. \n\n\"No one is here,\" She agreed, \"But they could be any moment.\" She kept moving down the counter, leaning over to rest her forearms on the surface. \n\n\"Stand behind the register. You'll need to appear gainfully productive if a customer walks in and sees you flirting with me.\" It felt good to admit it: flirting, as if that grin on Dimitra's face could spell anything but. Their positioning was such that once Dimitra was stationed at the cash box, their hips would nearly be touching. \n\nJust as she thought she'd earned back the upper hand, the other woman was proving her wrong again. Unlike the agency Austin had stolen from her, Carina found that she quite liked the playful current of this banter with Dimitra. It was still wild, in its way, but elements of danger were out of sight— out of sight, but wholly felt. Her heartbeat ticked up as she considered the invitation, especially with alcohol involved. \n\nHell, she'd listened to Mrs. Bigby. She'd tried church, and felt nothing. She filled her ledger book with all the gossip it would hold. She needed to find a hobby that wasn't polishing silverware. Maybe Dimitra could be that hobby. \n\n\"I'll consider it.\" She pursed her lips, \"Will there be dinner?\" Anyone who knew Carina was aware she could be easily plied with food. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "She had a sense of pride that Carina seemed to break down her walls just a little bit when it came to her, it seemed. She beamed, standing behind the register quite officially and folding her arms. \"Hold on, I'll pretend I'm you and you pretend I'm me. How about it? We could play a little pretend?\" She flashed her a grin before settling her eyebrows together, leaning on the counter. \"Dimitra, you have to pay for that. Dimitra, stop running in the store. Dimitra, you're going to slip and fall on that ice outside and when you do, I'll tell you that I told you so,\" She said, mimicking her impression of Carina. \n\nOf course, Dimitra would also call it flirting. She was shameless with it; fluttering eyelashes and leaving hands on arms too long. It gave her a thrill, and Carina was one of her favorite victims. \n\n\"Of course there will be dinner,\" She said, tapping her fingers on the counter. \"What kind of host would I be if I didn't make dinner?\" She was an impeccable host, in her humble opinion. \"I could make stew, and fresh bread too. And I bet I could snag us some kind of dessert...\" She chewed her lip. \"How's it sound? Hm? Tempted to come now?\" She pried, already knowing she'd have Carina far more now that she'd bargained with the idea of food." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Carina had no intention of playing pretend, but was eager to hear Dimitra's interpretation of her. She nodded along as Dimitra rattled off her impersonation. \n\n\"Goodness, has my posture really become so crooked?\" She Tsked, Her face blooming bright. It was a nice change from her typical stoicism, but the smile soon slackened. \n\"Is it so bad that I remind you to act as the grown woman that you are?\" Standing up from over the counter, she put her hands on her hips in a superficial kind of pout, sweeping behind Dimitra at the register to take up a feather duster. She set to \"Work\" Brushing it over the impeccably organized shelves and cases within her reach. The words Fresh bread Had her turning back around. \n\n\"Very Tempted. I had no idea you could be so domestic.\" She replied, her joke venturing too close to the boundary of insult. The revelation led her to eye Dimitra fully: head to toe and back again. She caught herself on the woman's curls, her smile. Expecting to come away from the assessment feeling empowered, instead she was scared. What would Dimitra find in her in the close setting of her home? Would she discover Carina to be ugly, or undesirable? What if she should find something to stop her coming by the store, and Carina would lose the power to elicit that impish grin on the other woman's face?\n\nThe fear was nearly strong enough to decline the invitation as quickly as she accepted it. Being the shopkeeper and nothing else was safe. Her mechanical instincts protected her. This way, she mitigated perceptions of herself. Once she stepped from behind the counter, she bared herself to judgment. But, Sang her human half, so irritatingly playful and optimistic, flesh and blood fighting steel, What if she likes who she meets? \n\n\"What time will you have me?\" \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "\"It's no fun to be a grown woman that I am,\" She said, humming as she watched Carina move around behind the counter, wielding that nefarious feather duster. She also decided to try and straighten up her posture to become a little more Carina-like. \"Being a grown adult is the worst. It's much better to be young— carefree. Don't have to worry about anything except playing outside and eating sweets.\" Which was how she liked to live most of her days anyhow. \n\nHook, line, sinker. Fresh bread must've done the trick, as it seemed Carina had become far more interested now. The words that came did give her pause, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it... Before she brushed it off, leaning on the counter. \n\n\"I can be quite domestic when I want to be,\" She said, eyelashes fluttering. \"I wasn't good at listening when I was a kid, I always wanted to run around. Never wanted to pay attention when my mom taught me how to cook... But thankfully I was able to pay a little more attention when I was a teenager.\" \n\nShe fluttered her lashes and slowly turned to open a jar, hoping Carina wouldn't notice as she snuck a bit of toffee candy out to suck on. \n\n\"I figure, I'll need to have some sort of redeemable qualities if I want to end up with someone one day,\" She teased. \"I'll have you at 6, if you're willing.\" Dimitra put her hands flat on the counter and fluttered her lashes again.\n\n\"Will you be coming, then? Finally, you'll come visit me at my home?\" She reached out, squeezing Carina's arm in excitement. \"I haven't had anyone over in at least two weeks and it's starting to get really lonely, Carina. You know I can hardly sleep on my own?\" She huffed. \"I hardly get any sleep; the house feels too quiet and loud all at the same time.\"" }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "How freeing it must be to renounce adulthood as Dimitra did. Youth was confusing and vulnerable. Carina was glad to be grown, not having to suffer the caustic currents imposed on impressionable young minds by those with more time invested in the world. Agency was a prize won of older age. Agency meant she could eat sweets any time she wanted, anyway. Dimitra had it wrong. All the more reason to grace the other woman with her company, she told herself; Dimitra needed a good influence. \n\nCarina listened to Dimitra's description of her childhood self.\n\"Why, that doesn't sound familiar at all!\" She looked up peevishly through her thin lashes, \"I can't imagine what you'd have become had you not reformed to Some Degree.\" She tutted, turning her back in time to miss Dimitra's sneaking hand in the toffee jar. \n\nThe concept of Redeeming qualities Set her mind to muse, as did the woman's admission that she wanted to end up with someone. Who would be the soul to tame Dimitra's, once and for all? Perhaps she sought a soul just as wild. Carina took stock of her own soul, and in tandem, counted off her own redeeming qualities as she saw them: proper, tidy, thorough, righteous, intelligent. Her mind drifted to the not-so-redeeming qualities, and she quickly shook herself away from those avenues, turning to place the feather duster back in its place.\n\n\"6, then.\" She agreed, leaning into the door frame to the hall behind the counter that led to the store rooms. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leveled her eyes on Dimitra, trying to maintain herself in the face of those Fluttering Lashes.\n_ _\n\n\"I will be coming.\" She agreed, trying to hide her reaction to her arm being squeezed– such a familiar gesture! Should she prepare herself for more like it? Heavens. \n\nIn the last two weeks. Carina let out a bitter puff of air without fully realizing it. Two weeks without company! She literally could not recall the last time she'd had someone up for tea in her apartment. She prided herself as a sort of intimacy-camel in Briar Ridge's social desert: she retained stores of companionship to sustain her through wild droughts. Dimitra, on the other hand, seemed like an intimacy-hummingbird: unable to go without the nectar of stimulating conversation for longer than a few hours. \n\n\"Perhaps you should get a pet.\" She told her, bitterness encroaching into her voice, \"If you're expecting me to help you fall asleep, I can promise you'll be disappointed.\" Perhaps she shouldn't have agreed to dinner. It was becoming clear that to Dimitra, Carina was just a warm body to have around for entertainment. What a fool she was to think anything more. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "She was surely aware that she wasn't the most mature woman in Briar Ridge. She preferred it that way; she knew what she needed to get done, took care of her responsibilities in a (somewhat) timely manner. Otherwise, she liked to live life fluidly; flitting about the world, soaking in as much as she could. Eating sweets, running around at night, kissing whoever she liked and dancing until her limbs hurt. That felt like the perfect life to her. \n\nHer shimmering demeanor was dampened by Carina's tone shift. Dimitra was used to her being flat and oftentimes chastising her, but she'd always felt that, though she could sound harsh, Carina considered them friends. Now, however, with the bitter puff of air and her biting tone, Dimitra wasn't sure what to make of it all. \n\nShe was used to being seen as a nuisance. Abel Hughes had made sure to make her feel right at home under that label, but Carina and this general store had felt different. She'd felt like their banter was playful, but perhaps she'd been under false pretenses this entire time. \n\nHer shoulders dropped visibly, as did her hand. Maybe she'd been picking up the wrong signals altogether. \"I'd feel awfully sorry for a pet if I had to go and leave it for a few days all alone in the house,\" She said, trying to regain the momentum in the conversation. She felt Embarrassed, which was not something that came easily to her. \n\n\"I just— you know me, I just say things and they come out of my mouth without even thinking,\" She said, turning away to the counter and fidgeting with a whittled down pencil. She tapped it on the counter, busying her hands. \"I don't expect that of you, of course not!\" She said after a second. \"What kind of girl do you take me for, Carina?\" She turned to look at her, and while she sounded playful, her words had curiosity in them. What kind of girl Did She take her for?" }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Dense and stubborn as she was, Carina could see her words affecting Dimitra in real time. Though her first reaction was a sick satisfaction that she had that kind of power over the other woman, her second reaction was remorse, and it quickly overshadowed her initial response. \n\nShe could relate to what Dimitra told her about speaking without thought. She perpetrated this violence on a daily basis, and when those 'nothings' hit their mark, she stood over the prey that'd been struck down, falsely proud of her marksmanship when in fact her blows were owed to mindlessness. This character flaw was only hazily acknowledged in her own mind, and it was difficult to see whether or not she would make an attempt at reform if she was fully cognizant of how her words deployed. The acknowledgement of the moment, though, was that she'd struck Dimitra in a tender place that she hadn't meant to. \n\n\"I take you for a very kind woman who has just invited me to dinner.\" She ventured delicately, leaving space for the words of an apology that wouldn't come, \"And I take you for a person who I'd like to know more about.\" Her eyes narrowed, her smirk returned. This time, there was no venom in it. This was her apology in a way; an olive branch. She hoped Dimitra would take it. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "Thankfully, Dimitra could be easily placated in most times with a reassurance, and at the most, a free piece of candy would do the trick. She smiled, shoulders hunching up a moment before she was turning all the way around again to face Carina— face lit up like a Christmas tree again. \"I feel the same way,\" She said, reaching out and holding onto Carina's arms, squeezing them. \n\nShe didn't expect an apology, but she could see Carina did regret her words. Dimitra couldn't ask for much, but that was enough in the space of their unlikely friendship. She knew she could be a lot— lord knows, she was a lot to handle, and Carina rolled with the punches as much as she could, and for that, she was appreciative. \n\n\"I promise, it'll be fun. And if you're sure you won't spend the night...\" She sighed mournfully. \"I suppose I could at least send you home with dessert, too.\" She let go of her, pushing open the gate to get on the opposite side of the counter now. \n\n\"I should probably go start cleaning up and prepping to impress you,\" She said, flashing her a grin. If there was any dust in her place, she was sure Carina would notice it. \"Six o'clock. Don't be late!\" She tapped the counter, reaching behind and snagging another candy before she was headed for the door." } ]	354	5,627
470	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Dominic Sevilla", "message": "Sick to death of dreary spring rains and having run the town 'round at least thrice just today in search of work or trouble, whichever came first, Dominic Sevilla had posted himself up in the Town Center. The rain was drizzlin' far too much to risk the paper in his sketchbook and he'd left his guitar at home. He wasn't a beggar, not even close, but he also wasn't offering anything by way of art nor music that day, so instead he'd sat a while to smoke through half the cigarettes he had and judge the folk going by.\n\nAll while giving 'em a smile, of course.\n\nSuch was the unfortunately idle life of a man-boy with too much of both time and energy on his hands in a squat little village mostly new to him. Leaning against the stone column that marked whatever somebody had thought the center of town was, he had a good view of a few places. Namely the general store, the library, and that unmarked old building he saw plenty of folk go in and out of with wrapped up duffels stuffed over their shoulders.\n\nThe sporadic rain had soaked his hair through to the color black, slicked back and curling behind his ears, but the very same moisture pilled up and rolled off his calfskin jacket. His mostly-dry state attributed to the quality of his jacket kept him looking like he had a place to lay his head at night. Usually anyway. He relied on his smile to do the rest.\n\nBright blonde hair was easy to follow through gloomy streets. Leaving him thinking of bumblebees and daffodils, he buzzed right up to her side, falling in step with her. \n\n\"Hey there.\" That was a little prod, just gettin' a feel. He was plenty tall but babyfaced and his expression said he didn't mean no trouble. Still, not everyone gave the warmest reception, no matter how nice he looked, and he wasn't fazed by it a lick. \"Seems lots of folks new 'round here. Saw your notice back there.\" He had only Sort of Seen it. \"You lookin' for a hand?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Caroline Gardner", "message": "After making sure her notice was neatly tacked into place, Caroline turned away from the board and peered out into the square from the shelter of its narrow overhang. It was not the first time her impulsivity had been answered with inclement weather, as though Mother Nature had rapped her knuckles for failing to even look out her window before stepping out of doors. The errand had been simple but all-consuming, anxious as she was to accelerate her preparations for her first real expedition, and so she'd arrived at the square half-damp and facing down the prospect to full-dampness on the way back home. \n\nShe was not so precious about her clothing - a woolen skirt and gray knit sweater being practical rather than stylish - and her boots had seen enough mud already, but her hair had opinions about things like rain and relative humidity that made it snarl and snap and lash itself into knots that would take an hour to untangle. Fortunately, Caroline had enough change in her pocket to buy a newspaper at the general store, which she held aloft against the intermittent drizzle. \n\nThree steps down the road and already her thoughts were distracted by the next phase of planning, so when someone interrupted them with an easygoing Hey there, the woman's head snapped up in mild surprise. Her eyes, more gray than greenish in the dreary weather, were round but not alarmed when they found a tall young man standing next to her, and they dipped briefly in assessment. To be approached by a stranger was a daily occurrence in New York City, always by someone looking to sell you something or fetch you a ride for a nominal fee, and there was nothing unfamiliar about the fellow's hedging greeting.\n_ _\n\nHe was handsome, too, with more innocence in the curve of his cheek than in those sharp eyes. Caroline thought of the last time she'd seen her younger brother, so self possessed and full of ideas about the man he intended to be. \n\nIt was this recollection that made the smile she offered a little fond, but mostly curious as she kept up her casual pace.\n\n\"I am - with shooting lessons, if you have anyone to recommend. Are there a lot of new Folks?\" She asked, the informal term made awkward by her accent and way of speaking. This seemed to give her some amusement, the way her lips curved wryly around the word. \"Being new, I can't say I've noticed.\"\n_ _" }, { "author": "Dominic Sevilla", "message": "Luck was shining on him today. She didn't even have a smartass answer like Sure am, go back and read it, why don't ya? Plenty of folk had never been taught to read. He'd been taught plenty. Over and over again. By people that loved him. Still, the letters danced around where they pleased, as unruly as most of the things in his head, and very rarely fell in any sort of sensical line. Either way, most days he got by fine, by virtue of a complete lack of self-consciousness mostly. And here was this nice lady spelling things out for him.\n\n\"Ah, yeah, well... You could say that there are plenty of new Folks, sure.\" Blink and she'd miss it, there was a wry grin and the faintest tease in the way he inflected on the same word she'd been awkward in trying on. His accent was certainly southern, but a deeper drawl than happened to roll off tongues around here, and touched with a lilt of Spanish.\n\nGlancing sidelong at the newspaper she shielded herself with, he plucked the hand-rolled cigarette from between his lips. It dangled mostly at his side, obscured by his sleeve, flickin' ash time to time on the dampened street. Where was she headed? Didn't much matter to him. Her hair may as well have been made from spun gold for the way he saw dollar signs on her. \n\n\"Plenty folks sell skins and there's a tailor lady just over there,\" He waved vaguely a street over. \"Wanna go shootin', may as well look the part, huh?\" It seemed her state of dress was a higher priority to him than her inability to wield a gun. Her knitwear did not look suitable for any travel further than the corner market to fetch the day's bread. Even that was a stretch.\n\n\"That's not to say you gotta. I might know a fella can teach ya in your lil' sweater or otherwise. Guess you heard about some of the uh... Dangers 'round here?\" His eyes flicked in the general direction of the faroff woodland that could be seen if they walked way to the end of the street and kept on a while. \"Or you on the run from somethin'? Sorry, sorry. That's pryin, huh? My name's Dominic.\" Sticking the cigarette back between his lips, he paused halfway in step to offer her a hand, a sort of drive-by handshake.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Caroline Gardner", "message": "Gentle as it was, Caroline was well-versed in the detection of idle teasing, having not the one but another younger sibling, and the joke made in kind only endeared the fellow more. Trading a bit of friendly banter in the street was hardly worth savoring for most people, but it was a small taste of a rare pleasure to a woman who'd spent the last several weeks pantomiming the act of mourning. The young man's reward for this act of unwitting service was a broadening of her idle grin, emphasizing the apples of her cheeks and settling into the faint smile lines that had just begun to take up permanent residence there.\n\nHis suggestion about proper shooting attire was met with a quizzical glance, however, though the amusement had not faded with it. Caroline imagined herself in a dozen or more fur-covered skins all stitched together with a wolf's head snarling over her brow in place of a hat. His train of thought was already derailing in favor of prodding questions about dangers and what sounded like a casual question about her status as a criminal.\n\nShe shook her head a little, bemused, and let out a chuckle that was more a puff of air than a laugh. Her steps slowed and stopped as he offered his hand, her own sense of propriety taking over as they made their introductions. The paper was still held aloft in her left hand, though the rain was an afterthought, so she could return the shake with a firm-enough grip.\n_ _\n\n\"Hello, Dominic. I'm Caroline, pleased to meet you.\" She made a show of looking quite skeptical now, head tipped to the side and back just a little - well, even more so, since it was already tilted back so she could look him in the eye. \"What I'm hearing is in order to learn to shoot, I must dress up in bear skins and go about like a Neanderthal. As enjoyable as that sounds, I was hoping to find someone willing to skirt the rules just this once.\"\n\nHumor tempered the skepticism once again as she leaned forward just a fraction, as if sharing a secret. \"And only this once. Though I may look like it, I can assure you I'm hardly on the lam.\"\n_ _" }, { "author": "Dominic Sevilla", "message": "\"Pleasure's all mine, Caroline,\" He half-mumbled around his smoke. That was a mouthful of a name, and he was already turning it over forwards and backwards about how he might shorten it into an uninvited nickname. \n\nNeanderthal. It was clear from his tickled expression, even blinking against the drizzle, her humor did not go unappreciated. \"Ya don't like my jacket, just say so, Caroline.\" He had a way of moving his dark eyebrows around when he was mouthing off that made him seem like he could be a real pain in the ass if he wanted to. \"But if you wanna keep wearin' a newspaper as a hat, that's your call I guess.\" \n\nThere was that moment of confusion on his face, his perception of her humor faltering for a tick. Clearly some phrases hadn't reached whatever little neck of the woods he'd rolled out of. He even considered asking her, What lamb? But moved along pretty quickly, instead returning her smile. Despite his road-weary appearance, all of his teeth looked quite nice. Clearly a boy that had grown up in different circumstances than he'd found himself in now. \n\n\"Can't get ya a gun, but can teach you how to shoot mine. And I promise that's probably not an invitation for a date.\" If he'd been facing her instead of strolling along beside her, he might have even thrown in a cheeky wink. Fancy lady wanted to be mysterious about what she was doin' in satan's armpit, he wouldn't be able to resist trying to ruffle her feathers a bit, to sniff out her mystery.\n\nFrom his pocket, a small brass box was withdrawn and flipped open on a spring, extended towards her as an offer. A row of a half-dozen neatly-rolled cigarettes lay within. He would light one for her too, of course, as any gentleman should. Though it seemed more a test of her kind of personhood.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Caroline Gardner", "message": "In her schooling years, Caroline might have flushed with embarrassment over his feigned offense and hurried to reassure him that, no, it was a very fine jacket, even as she was aware he was joking. That girl had been so uncomfortable in the face of anyone's poor opinion of her, including absolute strangers. Only after a decade had she come to recognize that desperate quality as the fount of so much misery in her life.\n\nToday, Caroline only smirked along with him and glanced up at her pauper's cap. \"Touché.\"\n\nThose grayish eyes were soon analyzing the young man, however. It was worth considering that, despite the inherent amusement of being flirted with, that her new acquaintance was not someone she ought to trust with a gun or her safety. There was a little money kept in a lockbox in the house she rented, but most of her possessions were either useless to the average person or of scant monetary value in a town like this. Part of the reason for getting a gun was to mind her own safety, after all.\n\nHer gaze was distracted by the shiny metal offering, seizing all other thoughts. She might have been imagining the scent of tobacco trailing through the rich petrichor that surrounded them, sharp and acrid. It had been Years Since she'd indulged, sneaking a puff from a friend's on the rare outings that did not include her husband. A few years into their marriage, she swore them off completely, claiming that the smell gave her terrible headaches. \n_ _\n\nIt was safer that way.\n\nNow there was nothing more to fear, and with a wistful sort of look, Caroline plucked one of the tidy rolls from the box with a gentle nod of thanks. When he went to light it for her, she adjusted her grip on the newspaper so the rain protected the flame - hair be damned. Turning her head away, she exhaled long and slow. Relief.\n\n\"I should hope not,\" She said finally of his dubious invitation, directing another wry look his way as they stood there and smoked. \"I'm sure a nice boy like you could do better than an old widow. How did you come to know how a gun works, anyway?\" The question was posed with a trace of faux suspicion, as if the request posted on the notice board were any less questionable.\n_ _" } ]	469	2,820
340.294118	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie hated the way the bell above the door of the general store always rang when you pushed it open. \nHe understood the Point Of the thing, of course, because it was just Miss Carina running the store all on her own, if she were to be distracted by a task she oughta know when a customer entered and might be needing her attention. But that was precisely the problem, for the last thing Freddie wanted was any kind of attention from the woman behind the counter. \nGranted, she'd done little wrong to him beyond a few scowls thrown his way, and some thinly-veiled insult that very first week he'd come to Briar Ridge and managed to stupidly mis-count his coins before heading up to her register, leaving him short when it came to paying for the armful of shopping his mother had sent him to fetch for her. He'd panicked, of course, over what to put back, and the paper bag of flour had split when he grabbed it a little too eagerly and left an awful mess behind. \nHe'd run away that day, and refused to return for all but the most essential of shopping trips ever since. He ducked in the street and took the long way around if he ever saw the woman coming his way, and his father was the one who organised most of the groceries for the house anyway so it wasn't as though he had any need to face up to her.\n\nUntil now, when the blasted bell rang out overhead, and he cringed at the sound and ducked between the nearest rows of shelves. \n\nHe'd sharpened his last pencil down to nothing but a stub barely the length of one finger-joint, no doubt in part thanks to all the lines in his journal taken up by waxing lyrical about Florian Barca. He'd have rather Died Than ask his father to add more to the family's shopping list - he wasn't even sure that his parents knew how much time he spent writing by candlelight when he should have been sleeping, and he wasn't about to bring it up to them for fear they'd ask to Read The thing and he'd have to come up with more excuses as to why they couldn't and Lord above It was easier, somehow, to face up to Carina's potential wrath than it was to ever consider lying to Alfred and Elizabeth Lovejoy. \n\nStill, he'd need a minute. And he needed to actually find the pencils he was looking for. How was the store organised? Was he looking for school supplies? Other writing implements? Art supplies? \nIt seemed that the shelves held an array of all kinds of convenient items one might find themselves in need of in a place like Briar Ridge, and yet there was little rhyme or reason to their placements. Sugar and flour were stacked beside one another, which made sense, and canned things appeared to all be found down the same aisle. But though he hunted high and low, Freddie couldn't seem to find himself a simple pencil. Entirely lost in his scouring of the products around him, it should have been no surprise that he found himself walking right into someone. \n\n\"Shi- I'm sorry!\"\n\nHe took an instinctive step back, and then another, wanting to give the stranger space to right themselves without his intrusion. At least he'd had the grace to somehow not knock her over.\nShe was a small woman with long black hair and a man's jacket that seemed too big for her. Her face wasn't one he recognised, and what a hell of a first impression he'd made.\n\n\"I'm real sorry, ma'am. Swear I didn't see ya there at all. Not because you're short or anything! I mean. I-I was jus' lookin' at the shelves and then... I ain't know nobody else was here. I didn't mean to. Please say I didn't hurt ya.\" He bit his lip in anxious anticipation of her response.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "Akira had her own lists of things she was looking to buy at the store. It wasn't written down, in fact it was all in her head. If anything, said shopping list kept growing the more she explored the building.\n\n Originally, she came for tea, as her father nagged her about it for at least two days. Then, she remembered they ran out of sugar, and then flour, and given the fact that she had no physical reference to read, she came to the realization that a notebook would be useful in the household.\n\n The woman had to be careful with her spending. While her past injuries were healed, a good portion of fall left the Hirano family with little work to do in the farm. Sure, Akira could chop wood for a quick buck, but money didn't grow on trees as some people would believe. \n\nAkira was in no rush, however. Exploring the general store was her new adventure for the day, as she focused on each product on the shelves for anything that could be useful for her and her old man. \n\nPerhaps her sudden fixation on different notebook sizes was that the reason she thought she was alone. Aki hadn't realized there was someone else, at least not until the stranger bumped into her. \n\n\"Weh-!\" \n\nAki stumbled on her feet with a yelp, more worried over not dropping any of her items rather than falling herself. Somehow, she managed to hold the bag in place while keeping her own balance. She had to use her free arm to hold onto one of the shelves for dear life, the fact that she didn't knock anything over was a miracle. \n\nThe woman looked more startled than upset. Sure, he didn't need to remind her of her size, but she was more focused on the stranger's well being than anything. Her eyes turned towards him, a younger man who seemed to be fearing for his own life. \n\n\"Ah! All good, all good!\" Akira giggled as she managed to stand up, waving one hand to reassure him. \n\n\" Don't worry I won't bite you, I wasn't lookin' either. \"\n\nThat poor boy. The way he stammered made Akira start to wonder if her scar was starting to intimidate people at this point! She felt the need to save face.\n\n\"Name's Akira. You can call me Aki! And you are...?\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "She was laughing, and that put him slightly more at ease when he realised it, relaxing and allowing his shoulders to drop. It didn't seem that she was hurt, which was a relief, and nor was she angry at him for being so caught up in his own world that he'd ploughed headlong into her. She was still on her feet, as he was, nothing was dropped or broken, and she was even introducing herself. So he figured he was safe for the time being. And thank God, because he really didn't want to attract Miss Carina's attention, and having the woman yell at him would definitely have caused something of a scene. \n\n\"Hi, Miss Aki. Yeah, I- I'm still real sorry about that.\" Cheeks flushed, he folded his arms across his chest, and smiled back at her the best he could. \"It's Freddie. It's good to meet you, ma'am - though not the best'a circumstances considerin' I almost took you off your feet.\" \n\nAs luck would have it, she was standing right in front of just the display he was looking for. He laid eyes on a jar of assorted pencils, all kinds of colours, and reached out to pick up a couple. A purple one - like the flowers he'd given to Florian on Valentine's Day - and a regular charcoal grey one stayed in his hand, while he put back the orange and green with only the slightest bit of regret. He only had a few coins with him, and he needed colours that would show up on the pages. \n\n\"By all means, don't let me interrupt your shoppin' any further, but I gotta pry and ask what you're lookin' for. This place feels like a damn maze sometimes, don't it?\" He laughed, but made sure to keep his voice quiet for fear of being overheard. \"No disrespect to the owner, a'course. Sure she's doin' her best to keep it all in order on her own.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "\"Well, nice to meet you, Freddie!\" \n\nAkira was glad that she had been able to ease the young man's anxieties by just being herself. She found peace in making people smile, it was everything she wanted to do in the end. \n\nHer gaze followed Freddie's hand as he put some of the pencils he picked up earlier back into the jar. As she turned back to him, she saw the regret on his face. In silence, she counted the coins in her pocket, with a free hand scratching the scar on her cheek as she hummed in thought.\n\n\"Oh, you ain't interruptin' anything. It's just easy to get lost in a shop like this!\" Akira chuckled. \"I was just lookin' for stuff my pa and I may need in the house... And the list just kept getting bigger! \" \n\nThe woman then got on her tip toes. She struggled to reach the shelf but her determination was stronger, and used tiny hands to reach out to pick up the same pencils the young man put away.\n\n\"Do you write or draw?\" She asked, now holding the items. \"I can cover cover these for you.\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "He liked her, he decided, and was glad that of all the people he could have bumped into, fate had chosen for him one that didn't mind too much about it. He spun the purple pencil between his fingers as he looked at the things she had in her arms, wondering what he could find out about her from the contents of her shopping. She held paper sacks of sugar and flour, and before he'd run into her she'd been paging through the pile of notebooks stacked all haphazard on the shelf. \nShe picked up the pencils he'd put back, and offered to buy them for him, and his cheeks flared pink.\n\n\"No - no, that's really not necessary, Miss Aki, I- I can come back for 'em after pay on Friday,\" He protested. \"I don't need 'em. Jus' liked the colours is all... For writin' with. Nothin' important, it's only a journal, so it ain't even like anyone's gonna see it lookin' all pretty. It's a private thing.\" How pathetic it sounded, said aloud, keeping a diary for the sake of naught but his own selfish wanting. \"You don't gotta buy anythin' for me. I work hard, Miss. Ain't in need of charity, kind as it is of ya...\" \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "\"Well...\" Akira hummed in thought for a moment, looking at the pencils she had picked up. \"I understand that feeling well.\"\n\nIt was same feeling the young man experienced was reminiscent of the time she and her father came to Briar Ridge for the first time. The Hirano had nothing but what was left of their belongings from their long trip from California, and both daughter and father stubborn on their decision at first.\n\n_'Please just let us work... Is all we want. If you must insist in helping us, at least let us pay your kindness back._' Were the words that came from Akira's father when he first met Mayor Cooper. \n\nIt took a lot of convincing, but the town gave them land and cattle, something that people like the Hirano weren't even able to _own_ in the West coast. \n\nSure, comparing their situation to buying pencils were apples to oranges. But how else could Akira pay them back, especially after everything they had gone through in the last months?\n\n\"But I'm not offering 'cause I got to. I'm offering because I want to. \" Aki continued, handing the pencils to Freddie. \"You said you'd get to pay them back on Friday, yes? You're more than free to pay me back by then instead. This way, you get to finish your journal entries sooner. Sounds like a win-win situation to me!\"\n\nThe woman then looked for the coins in her pocket and counted them. \n\n\"Of course, you're also free to still decline. I trust your hardwork will still allow you to get these pencils by then, too~\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Aki was kind. It seemed like a lot of people in Briar Ridge were kind and good, as though the town just attracted the type - and good people were Freddie's favourite type of people. He hadn't known so many of them existed until he came here and saw them at every turn, on the streets and in the homes, and now apparently hidden behind the shelves of the Bigby general store. \nHow could he reject her offer a second time when she looked at him with such earnest? He recognised the expression, for it was one he often wore himself, desperate for approval, aching to be accepted and to feel as though he was doing right by the people around him. And so, he accepted the pencils as she pressed them into his hand, and held them to his chest. \n\n\"If you're really sure, Miss Aki, then I'll accept. It's mighty generous of you to be offerin' at all, and I'll owe you back tenfold. Whether that be in money, or a good deed in hand, I promise I'll make it up in good time an' conscience.\" He smiled, looking down at the colours again. The orange of a winter's sunset on a freezing day, the green of new-growing plants, a sign of spring. He could ask Florian to show him how to draw the leaves again and they'd look a damn sight better in green than they did before. \"I'll work all that bit harder knowin' I get to go home and write with 'em, knowin' a nice lady wants me to enjoy 'em all the more. Thank you. Really. I ain't got the words for how I appreciate your kindness.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "How polite this young man was. Akira smiled more and more the more he spoke. She wondered if she'd ever see Freddie's writings, or what good use he'd put to those pencils. The woman knew that at least someone would be there to witness it and appreciate it. \n\n\"Ah, in times like these, kindness is what Briar Ridge needs.\" The woman said, without the need to overexplain why the whole town had been dealing with such hardships. They dealt with it every full moon. \n\nAkira's eyes then looked over the counters again, just to make sure she wasn't missing anything from her ever growing shopping list. The brief thought of the werewolf attacks reminded her that she and her father needed to restock in even more items. \n\n\"Is there anything else you're looking for, Mr Freddie?\" She said as her hand returned to the scar on her cheek, focusing on the items on the shelve, picking up one or two of them to put them on her paper bag. \n\n\"I feel like I keep needing even more stuff the more I look around here, isn't that funny?\" \n\nThe sight was funny indeed, as the bags that Akira was holding became perhaps too big for her small hands, yet it didn't seem like she struggled with the weight." }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "He couldn't help but agree with her every word. Everyone could use some more kindness, and if he could use his time in Briar Ridge to spread even a little then he was for sure going to do it. It was good to know that other people felt the same way, that there was good even in a world that was being ravaged by violent beasts.\n\nMr, she called him, and though he knew he should have been used to it by now at the grand old age of twenty-one, it still sounded nice in her voice. Not a stranger's voice any more, no, Aki was past the point of stranger, had been from more or less the moment she introduced herself to him. He was good at that, jumping straight over the line that was Acquaintances And headlong into Friends If he judged a person to be the sort he liked to align himself with. Aki definitely fit the bill. She was gentle and accepting and he could see himself enjoying her company, so he only hoped she wouldn't mind him tagging along at her side more often. \n\n\"Tell me about it! I ain't needin' anythin' else - I don't think I'd be allowed to come back to the store if my father knew jus' how much time I'd already wasted here lookin' at all the unnecessary shelves,\" He admitted with a laugh. \"He handles the finances an' the groceries, for good reason too or no doubt I'd be comin' home with more'n pencils and a friend.\" He grinned at her. \"Does mean I can help you with carryin' things if you need it, though. Looks as though you might be needin' extra arm space if you're gonna go pickin' up more yet.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "\"Pffffft, and here I am getting lost in these shelves! I wish me and my pa knew how to organize things... Better.\" Akira admitted with a hearty laugh. \"But! We do our best.. It's just the two of us so I can't imagine how it'd be with more people around!\" \n\nSurely, the house would be more of a mess, but the Hirano always appreciate having guests over. The idea of inviting Freddie for a cup of tea or dinner popped in Aki's mind. She knew her old man would adore him, he always had a soft spot for the younger generation. \n\nBut now Akira had other matters in her hands, literally. While she was sturdy, the fact of the matter was that her size still made everyday life harder for her, making her put extra effort into things as simple as reaching shelves, or carrying many bags. \n\n\"Oh, I'm fine...!\" The woman would had waved her hand if they weren't so busy. Just after she said that, however, she stumbled. \n\n\"Weh-!\"\n\nYet again, Akira was holding for dear life to a shelf, but now there were casualties. The notebook she just put inside the bag fell off, the sugar bag rolled over like a ball, a couple of cans were dropped. At least the flour was still being held in place, squished in with one arm that held what was left of the bag.\n\nPoor Akira looked at the fallen items with a defeated sigh.\n\n\"...Okay maybe I need your help...\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie was about to say something when she mentioned her father at home, but as he opened his mouth, he was cut off by her dropping her groceries. Though he dived to try to catch, well, any of it, he wasn't quite fast enough, and everything fell to the ground, the cans making an awful din as they landed. He was just glad that her notebook hadn't lost any pages, as he knelt down to pick things up for her. And he really hoped that the commotion wouldn't attract Miss Carina's attention and end up with them both being kicked out of the store for making a mess!\n\n\"I got it! You hold onto that flour.\" He laughed, making a neat stack of what she'd dropped to make it easier to pick up, the pencils temporarily stuck in his shirt pocket to free up his hands. \"I'm good at carrying things, don't worry. And fitting a lot of things into not a lot of space.\" He thought of the pack on his horse's back and the weeks it had taken to get filling it down to a science, not wasting any room and squeezing everything in tight so the flap would close and keep the contents safe. \n\nHe stood up, her shopping now clutched close to his chest in one arm, leaving him with one hand still free for anything else she ended up needing him to hold onto. \"See? Easy. What else do you need? I'll be pack-pony.\" He grinned.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "How embarrassing, to be struggling with her own feet to the point that she had her groceries scattered on the floor. In the midst of the panic, Akira glanced over two or three times to make sure Miss Carina didn't hear the commotion, now coming to understand the young man's fear towards the woman. \n\nBut nobody came, which gave Freddie the time to pick everything up, and for Aki to attempt to stand up like a normal human being.\n\n\"Heh, you know it.\" Said the woman as she made sure she didn't break the paper bag, that'd sure be the last thing she needed to see. Once it was confirmed that everything was in one piece, Akira was able to breathe again, and she had a free hand, too!\n\n\" Well, you sure are very useful, thank you!\" She grinned at Freddie, giving him a gentle pack on the back. \n\n\"I think I got everything I was looking for...\" Akira then hummed in thought, browsing in the bags again to make sure.\n\n\"Wait... No..\" She corrected with a laugh, scratching the scar on her cheek. \"Think I could use some candy for a snack for later, just a small one! My pa doesn't need to know!\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie loved to help, so he truly didn't mind carrying things for Akira. There seemed to be no point in letting his strength go to waste, not that he didn't believe that she could do it on her own. He'd been raised to be a gentleman, after all. And the pencils in his pocket were proof that she, too, was good. There were plenty of people in the world that needed a bit of kindness. \n\nHe couldn't help but grin at her mention of candy. \"I think that sounds like a great idea. Like a reward for getting all the things you really needed. Does your pa like sweets too? You could share with him and then he really won't mind at all. What's your favourite kind?\" \n\nShe seemed close to her father, just from how she talked about him. Freddie understood that feeling all too well - though he was closer to his mama, he and his father shared an inseparable kind of bond too, forged through years of working side by side and only strengthened as his sisters began to fly the nest and begin families of their own. Freddie knew he was all his parents really had left now, and as their age began to catch up with them he grew more and more responsible for them. He hoped to have them with him for as many years as Aki had with her father. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "\"Actually, now that you mention it...\" Akira's eyes lit up the second Freddie brought up the perfect excuse to spend more money. The woman managed to motion her hands as if she tried to snap her fingers, though they were busy carrying her portion of the groceries. \n\n\"He loves chocolate.\" She said. \" As to what kind of candy is my favorite ..Ah, I'm afraid I can't get those around here... \"\n\nMore than two decades ago, it was her father who used to do the same thing for Akira when she was little. Mako would sometimes return from a hard day of labor, holding a dango skewer for her to indulge. \n\n Indeed, Freddie was right with his assumption, Akira was a papa's girl, though at one point in her life she was doted on by both parents. She never talked about her mother though, and it was possible she never would.\n\n She couldn't remember her face at that point in her life, though she could remember her voice at the very least. \n\nWith a hearty laugh, Aki led Freddie to another aisle. Surely in a town as small as Briar Ridge, the candy section wouldn't be nearly as extensive as the ones she saw in San Francisco, but even then, the woman was just as excited to bring something nice to her pa." }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie beamed as he followed her - she was easy to talk to, the two of them more or less bouncing off one another, and any worries he might have had about bothering Miss Carina upon entering the shop had all but evaporated now. He was all smiles and laughter, close behind Aki as she located the few shelves that held chocolates and candies, still being careful so as to not drop her groceries. \n\n\"I like chocolate too. Your pa has good taste. Even if they ain't got your favourite sweets here, I'd still like ta' know what they are. And tell you what - next time my mama bakes, I'll be sure to save you both somethin', alright? She's a real talented lady when it comes to cakes an' the like.\" He couldn't hide the note of pride in his voice when he spoke of his mother, for though delicate tasks like the decorating didn't come so easy to her these days, she still did all she could to make sure there was always something sweet in the pantry. If he closed his eyes and thought real hard he could imagine the taste of her shortbread cookies, or the sweet cherry pies she always made in the season when the fruit was at its best. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )", "message": "Akira was endeared by Freddie's excitement and curiosity. She was used to people not showing plenty of interest in her own culture. In the past, some people even rejected her by simply looking at her. But Briar Ridge was different, like a mother's warm hug as she welcomed you back home.\n\n\"Oh so, you wanna hear my favorite type of dessert and candy?\" She giggled after taking a chocolate bar. \n\n\"Oh, my favorite sweet is a dumpling made out of rice flour called _dango_\" Akira's intonation changed as she said the word out loud, now visibly excited \"They come in different varieties, and some are even seasonal! I'm pretty sure my family back at home is gonna eat plenty of those once spring hits, everyone gathers to see cherry blossom flowers bloom. It's a beautiful festivity. \" \n\nAnd now, Akira was hit with the Lovejoy's kindness, her heart melted at the idea of having homemade cakes and cookies offered. \n\nShe felt so undeserving of the people of Briar Ridge.\n\n\"I'll trust your word and I'll be more than glad to try your mama's cooking! Tell you what, once I get the chance to visit you, I'll bring some tea. Gotta do my part, right?\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie smiled as he listened to her talk. Sure, he'd never heard of the sweets she mentioned, he wasn't even so sure he knew what rice flour was, but her passion was the kind that was contagious even in small doses, and he was just happy to have made a friend. A friend who smiled and gushed over the things she was excited about, much the way he did. Someone who wouldn't look upon him like he was a child for it.\n\nHe liked Akira. And she seemed to like him.\n\n\"Tea and cakes go great together!\" He agreed, rounding the last of the shelves and realising that together they'd made their way to the end of the small store, and there was nothing to do but go up to Miss Carina before they had to go their separate ways. Despite himself, Freddie found himself shrinking back at the concept of facing up to the stern store-keeper, and he let his new-found friend go first up to the register, though he still held most of her things. \n\nOutside, his new pencils tucked into his pocket and her groceries transferred into bags to make them easier to carry, he thanked her again and promised to pay her back when his wages next came to him on Friday. \nFrom there, he turned, and headed off in the direction of home, though he stopped on the corner to wave to her one last time before they disappeared from one another's sights. \n\n\n\n\|\| a whole month and some change later,,, I finally come to end this. I am so sorry it took so long" } ]	304	5,785
386.071429	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "It had been months. She hadn't spoken to Carina since before the attack in December; she had sought comfort in her friends and found that Carina was nowhere to be found. Days turned into weeks, and now, it had been almost three months. \n\nMaybe it was her fault as well. When she was well enough to walk, she took care to avoid the general store woman at all cost; she was hurting, but she didn't want to say that. She wanted to pretend everything was fine; that Carina hadn't hurt her feelings at all. Not a single visit? Not even a letter? It wasn't like Carina didn't know where she was staying! \n\nBut she was putting this to rest today. She'd set out, tied her hair up in a bandana and set about with her gaudy earrings and bangles, and marched right into the general store. \n\nShe felt her stomach twist and turn. The last time she'd seen Carina was under completely different circumstances. They'd Kissed, they'd laughed, they'd talked about such personal things... And now they felt like strangers. \n\nShe sucked in a breath and walked to the counter, rapping her knuckles on the wood. \"Excuse me, miss,\" She said casually, folding her arms on the top. \"Where could I inquire about the candy in this fine establishment?\" \n\nMaybe if she pretended everything was fine, she could will it to be so. Her stomach was in knots. She wasn't sure how Carina would receive her. She wasn't sure how any of this would go. Maybe Carina didn't want anything to do with her at all." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Carina Templeton was not one to dwell on the associated imagery of memories. She discarded the fleshy bits of recollection and retained the emotion: the anger, the fear, and confusion. The family that abandoned her lived on in her rage. The long road she had walked to Briar Ridge rolled out again before her with the beckoning of exhaustion each night. In the last few months, however, something had rewired in the way her mind tied itself to events. \n\nShe could see every torn edge of skin down Mrs. Bigby's throat as she lay dying in the doctor's ward. The flame of burning moonshine lit her eyes from behind when she thought of the night that wolf had taken the only person she loved from her. Now that she had witnessed another attack on someone dear, she could not seem to separate the image of Dimitra storing a caramel in her cheek from the grisly scene of the woman torn open on the Hughes' house floor. \n\nThis trade of feeling for recollection of sensory details was not fair and clean, for Carina retained both sets of information with her new memories. She could smell the hot stench of the beast as she relived her terror. Bathed in guilt for her failure to defend her, she could vividly remember Dimitra's panicked eyes \n\nAll She could seem to remember was that look on Dimitra's face whenever she thought of her friend. That look had frozen Carina dead to her place as Dimitra was rushed to the doctor. It had frozen her at her own kitchen table as she fought to get up and pay the woman a visit as she healed. It had stilled her heart when Abel Hughes came into the general store, sharing news of his newest house guest. \n_ _\n\nFrom that first step she did not take to carry Dimitra's battered body, Carina refused to make up for her inaction. The weeks went by, and the more ridiculous she felt in taking that first step. Her mounting guilt only served to further solidify her stance. Carina did not understand the magnitude of emotion that surrounded Dimitra's situation, and she fought like hell not to engage with her own mind when it wondered: Why do you care so much? \n\nBy the second month, she had nearly convinced herself she had never cared. She hadn't heard news of Dimitra succumbing to her injuries, and so she could summon happiness that the woman wasn't dead. That apathy never sat right, though. It itched and itched and itched, and her care for Dimitra crawled beneath her skin like so many insects carrying affection to the hive of her heart. That's why, when Miss Florakis set the bell on the shop door ringing, those pesky bugs all swarmed within Carina. She could not have hoped to quell what surfaced as a result. \n\nJust barely, Carina managed to step out from behind the counter with her composure still intact. Just barely, she paced the few steps to Dimitra without stumbling. Just barely, she held back her emotion until After She had gathered the other woman in a too-tight embrace, crying hot, swollen tears onto the back of Dimitra's neck. The back of Dimitra's shirt was gathered into Carina's clenched fists, and the shopkeeper Squeezed Hard to keep from making any untoward sounds. The only indication that she was sobbing was the convulsing tension of her chest, and the dampness of her falling tears. \n_ _\n\n\"I didn't bring you any. While you were healing. I didn't bring you any candy, I–\" She blubbered, but only for a moment, before she gathered herself (or attempted to). Straightening, she sniffed a great, watery sniff, and drew her sleeve up across her face to clear the tears. \n\"You're walking. You— look well.\" Her attempt at casual interaction was ridiculous, given the display she'd just put on, but she attempted it all the same. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "She had not anticipated the actions of which Carina took. She had not expected Carina to come around the counter and hug her, nor had she expected to feel her shirt become damp from the tears of her friend. It was instinctual for her to wrap her arms around her dear friend and squeeze her tight, to pet her hair in that moment. How could she be so angry when Carina was so upset, showing a vulnerability she wasn't sure she showed many people at all? \n\nAs soon as Carina pulled back, Dimitra rested her hands on her shoulders and gave her a look. \"Then I think you owe me a piece of candy or two, don't you?\" She raised an eyebrow and squeezed her shoulders, looking down at her legs then. \"I can walk and talk and sing, too. Can you believe it?\" She flashed her a smile, reaching up to wipe a stray tear off her dear friend's face. \n\n\"Don't cry over little old me...\" She said, pulling her hands back to rest on her hips. \"I just... You know, I was wondering where you were for the past few months.\" Dimitra didn't want to let her completely off the hook, but it was hard when Carina's eyes were still rimmed with red from crying so hard. \"You're one of my dearest friends and I hardly saw you at all.\" In fairness, she'd been avoiding her, too. \"Was starting to wonder if you forgot about me because I wasn't around to bother you.\" \n\nDimitra twisted a curl around her finger as she spoke, bracelets clinking together with the motion each time. Nervousness; something that was so foreign to her." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Now that Dimitra had lent her voice to the situation, Carina had time to stand back from what had transpired. She had little recollection of the steps that led from behind the cash register to here, weepy, in front of Dimitra. Their embrace had been so needed, and it was taking all of Carina's will not to crawl forward again into the other woman's arms as something between a lover and a scared child. \n\n\"I'll do a special– buy one piece, get one free.\" The shopkeeper would be damned if she let a girl with a few boo-boos take advantage of her in a moment of weakness! \n\nJust as Carina honest-to-god opened her mouth to protest I wasn't crying!, Dimitra smoothed a tear from beneath her eye. Embarrassingly, she leaned into the touch, losing herself and losing herself. She looked at the floor– a rare and startling gesture for Miss Templeton. \n\n\"I know. I know I wasn't there. I didn't forget about you, Dimitra.\" She sniffled, murmuring her remorse to her own chest. \n\"You don't deserve the excuses I have to offer. You just don't. You don't have to forgive me, either. It's so... It's just so good to see you.\" Carina said lamely. On some level, she recognized this as the moment where she told Dimitra she'd been scared. She'd been scared of losing her, when the loss of Mrs. Bigby was so fresh. She should have confessed that she was terrified of finding out how much grief she was capable of supporting, and so she stayed away, citing 'no news is good news' as her guiding philosophy. At some point, 'no news' had just become 'avoid the news.' \n_ _\n\nCarina didn't notice that Dimitra was fidgeting, too blinded by her own inner war to clock her friend's hair twirl as an outlet. The fact that Dimitra'd found the strength to come here and ask for the attention she'd been owed left Carina all the more mired in guilt. Shouldn't it have been Carina summoning the strength to pay the debt of affection she owed the woman? \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "There was an aching, swelling feeling in her chest. It was a combination of affection and guilt; a seizing combination that Dimitra had not experienced before and found she wasn't a fan of. She didn't want to even broach the subject of how they'd left their friendship a few months ago. They'd kissed, they'd laughed, and now... Well, things were different. \n\nIt hadn't been hard to fall in love with Abel Hughes. She'd always had a bit of a flame for him, sure, but having him take care of her for three months had been enough to seal the deal. Now, she stood before Carina feeling that warmth flicker in her chest once more and guilt from all sides. \n\n\"It's good to see you too,\" She said softly and hugged her again. She'd missed her. Truly, she had wanted to ask after her; how often she'd wanted to ask Rhett the question that laid on the tip of her tongue. Has Carina asked about me at all? But she hadn't asked, because she was afraid the answer would be one she didn't want to hear. No, she hasn't asked about you at all. \n\nDimitra squeezed her tight before she let go again. She liked the contact; how warm she was and how Carina smelled. \"There's nothing to forgive,\" She assured her as she squeezed. \"As long as you give me two pieces of candy for free.\" Dimitra teased her, unwilling to let her go just yet." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Carina hadn't been ready for a second embrace and received it stiffly at first. The squeeze caught her off guard and she didn't gather herself in time to return it. She'd been too busy wondering what came next. Surely they couldn't pick up where they'd left off? Had the preacher taken the space in Dimitra's heart that Carina had barely begun to carve for herself? In her haze, she let her fingers curl dreamily into Dimitra's palm as they separated, holding the woman's hand loosely. She dropped it in mock-outrage, though, when Dimitra pushed again for a candy tithe. \n\n\"Two pieces?\" Carina gasped, clutching the thin gold chain around her neck, overdramatic. Soon, her scandal gave way to a smirk, and she stepped backward a few paces before turning to let herself behind the counter. She bent to retrieve the brass sugar tongs, and left them swinging lazily from an outstretched finger toward Dimitra. This was like the key to the city; a tool to pick from any of the jars on display. \n\n\"I won't even keep count.\" She smiled, then straightened, \"Make it quick, before I have to call the Sheriff to report this... This Burglary!\" The humor in her voice was drier than could typically be expected. She still had the Preacher on her mind. As Dimitra hunted for her bounty, Carina knit her fingers together beside the cash register. \n\n\"You've been staying with Abel Hughes.\" She commented, peeking up to scrutinize Dimitra's reaction. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "She delighted in Carina's mock outrage, the lightness in her tone as she handed over those tongs. Dimitra slipped behind the counter and immediately went for the caramels, plucking out two. She migrated to the licorice and tried not to be greedy, only lightening the load by one. She moved on to the butterscotches— \n\nHer breath caught in her throat and she did freeze up, putting the lid back on the glass jar she'd been so ready to ransack. \"I have,\" Dimitra said, her back to Carina as she twisted the wax paper off the caramel and put it in her mouth. She didn't know what to say— she was sorry? That she was a filthy harlot and that Carina should slap her silly for it? \n\n\"He offered to take care of me after everything,\" She said. \"He's got a spare room and spare time,\" Dimitra seemed nervous; the way she shifted from foot to foot and all. \"You've got a new roommate, right?\" She asked, eyes narrowed minutely, trying to seek out answers on her own. Does she kiss you like I did? She couldn't say that; that wasn't fair." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Carina stifled winces with every jar lid she heard open and close, honest to God shutting her eyes as not to witness the thievery. She only looked as she heard the paper on a caramel unwind, catching the tail end of the treat disappearing behind Dimitra's smile. \n\nNow, Carina noticed the fidgeting. Was Dimitra... Nervous? Carina nearly refused to believe it. Had Dimitra Ever Been nervous in her life? The idea of it was absurd. It made just about as much sense as a town full of werewolves. She regarded Dimitra's answer with a straight face, folding her hands on the countertop. \n\n\"That's good of him. I hope he has enjoyed your company.\" She said stiffly, watching Dimitra make a subtle accusation of her own. Carina narrowed her eyes right back, but found it difficult to smother the smirk that threatened her steely expression. She just knew Dimitra would appreciate the ruse she'd laid for Lily, was all. She wanted to share it, and couldn't rightly help herself in doing so. \n\n\"I do. She's mighty green, Dimitra. Miiiighty Green.\" Her lips maintained their half-smirk, but at the last moment, she elected not to delve into the full recount of Lily's debut. \n\n\"Doesn't believe in werewolves.\" She offered instead, \"But, I suppose I may have given her a reason to think me a liar.\" Now, the smirk returned in full color, and Carina placed a hand at the side of her mouth, standing on tiptoe to lean over the counter and stage whisper, \"I didn't make the greatest first impression.\" She confessed, mouthing the word Oops! Before stepping back onto the shop floor and leaning against a support beam. \n\n\"She's lousy dinner company, turns out. But I have high standards.\" Carina added, her eyes trained on Dimitra's face expectantly. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "\"He has,\" She said, rolling the caramel around in her mouth. It was sweet and buttery tasting; she loved them. They were her favorite; the memory of sucking on them in the kitchen made a flush creep down her neck subtly. Being in close proximity to Carina was clearly dangerous territory; she could smell the subtle sweet perfume on her person and it conjured up many thoughts of that cold December night in front of the fire. \"I like to think I made the house a little brighter during my stay.\" \n\nDimitra leaned on the counter, her eyes trained on Carina Templeton and soaking her in. She cracked a wide smirk as she told her story, a bright laugh following. \"You're terrible!\" She swatted gently at her arm and bumped her shoulder against hers. \"I love it. Absolutely love it.\" \n\nShe leaned back as Carina did as well, trailing her fingers along the counter. Her eyes flickered up to meet hers as Carina spoke of her High standards And she couldn't help but feel a flicker in her belly. \"I'd say so,\" She said, leaning on the counter once more and curling a strand of hair around her finger. \n\n\"You've really got a taste for the finest things in life,\" She pointed out. \"Of course you've got high standards.\" Her smirk broadened and she snickered. \"Besides, not many dinner guests can offer as much as others.\" She said, before settling in to sucking on that caramel again." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Carina brightened immeasurably under Dimitra's examination. Her skin took on a lively color, and her heart quickened. She'd missed this. She really had. You make the shop brighter, too. Stay. She thought, smiling to herself, and smiling even brighter when Dimitra approved of her sinister initiation of Lily. \n\n\"You know how often I think about that stew you made at your place?\" Carina sighed suddenly, feeling like they'd slotted right back into the groove of friendship. It was easy to feel comfortable around Dimitra. It was easy to ignore the fact that they'd been strangers for so long because of Carina's thoughtlessness. Dimitra made her feel absolved and worshipped, like she could do no wrong. Maybe that was why she'd let herself grow distant in the first place— because she knew that Dimitra would forgive her? \n\nThe warmth she'd felt was gone in about three heartbeats, as quickly as it'd come on. Dimitra had a preacher to make stew for, now. Surely it was best for Carina to inch away, no matter how fervently she wanted to cling to the woman's arm. What did she really want from Dimitra, though? Access to that feel-good power she held, whenever she called upon it? It wasn't fair, Carina was beginning to see. She couldn't imagine what she had to offer in return. This was a surprising realization, coming from one of the most self-important people in Briar Ridge, but seeing Dimitra hurt by her made something shift into place at the center of her chest. \n\nWon't you make it for me again sometime? She wanted to say, of the stew. I hope I can come over again soon.\nInstead, she gave a sad kind of smile. \n\n\"You'll have to give me the recipe for it.\"" }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "Dimitra sought to find something more in Carina's face; her eyes darted to the twitch of her lips, the way her eyes softened and hardened at the drop of a hat. \"I don't think I can give you the recipe,\" Dimitra said apologetically, folding her arms on the counter. \"It's a family recipe...\" She trailed off as she rolled the caramel around in her mouth for a moment. It was slowly whittling itself down against her tongue, the sugary sweetness dissolving.\n\n\"So I guess you'll have to come by and let me cook for you again, won't I?\" She said, resting her elbows on the counter with more thought behind it, chin resting in her palm as her eyes tracked Carina Templeton with intense thought. \n\n\"You are Not Getting rid of me now,\" She told her, voice playing on both seriousness and humor. \"Not after being away for so long.\" Dimitra's hand shot out and caught her wrist, thumb on her pulse as she leaned more on the counter. Her wild curls framed her face, open and honest as her voice dropped to a murmur. \"You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not, Carina Templeton,\" A smile graced her face and she winked, as if she wasn't about as close to her as she'd been that December night. \n\nDimitra might have a lover, but she couldn't begin to say that her feelings for Carina had ever faded. Perhaps that made her terrible, but she thought that made her terribly human. Her hand let go of her wrist after a moment and she sighed a little, popping a stolen licorice in her mouth with a subtle smugness." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "Carina hadn't realized how she'd already begun to grieve the distance opening between herself and Dimitra until it snapped shut again. Her eyes flashed to her friend's as she extended the tentative invitation, and Carina couldn't help but beam like a pleased child. \n\nThey were so close. Their faces were so... Close. This was so familiar. Carina's heart stuttered as Dimitra held her by the wrist, her breath caught. Her gaze unwillingly flickered down to Dimitra's mouth and back up into her dark lashes. And a wink? Carina didn't know what hit her. \n\n\"Good.\" She proclaimed, after clearing her throat quietly, pretending she couldn't feel the wild blush that was warming her cheeks. She straightened her skirt, which was already straight, and tidied the counter, which was already tidy.\n\n\"I'm pleased to be stuck,\" She gave a sharp nod down to the cash register before looking up in time to see Dimitra consume more of her stolen bounty. \n\n\"...As long as You Can shell out the decency to celebrate your thievery Outside My shop!\" Carina began the tirade with a tight brow, but ended it in laughter, wildly batting her friend with the feather duster she'd produced from under the counter. \n\"Riff raff!\" She clucked, too giddy to be self conscious of the atrocious giggle that chimed from her lips." }, { "author": "Dimitra Florakis", "message": "Maybe it was selfish, but Dimitra liked to see the blooming blush on Carina's cheeks. It was pretty, all rosy on her pretty face, and Dimitra was pleased to see it was all her doing. She openly admired her face as Carina seemed so intent on cleaning up the shop that was always impeccably clean. \n\nThe feather duster was a weapon, and Dimitra squealed when Carina wielded it against her. \"Never! When have you ever known me to be decent?\" She barked out a laugh and boosted herself up, butt planted firmly on the counter as she swung her legs over it and landed firmly on the same side as her companion. \n\nShe could've walked around, but maybe she liked showing off. She reached for the feather duster, trying to wrestle it from her grasp, and Carina's giggle was just about enough to make her heart melt a little. She knew if she pointed it out, her friend would become embarrassed and try and clam it up. So she kept quiet; she would rather save it all for herself. \n\n\"You're the one who allows riff raff in your store!\" She pointed out, giggling as she tried to grab that feathered weapon from her hands still. \"And it's not my fault that your candy is so good!\" She winked at her before she was darting to one of the jars and taking two more pieces with a wink." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "So. This was being alive. This Was it. The rush of blood to Carina's cheeks spelled it out plainly, that this was the pinnacle of human design: the unbridled joy of wrestling a dear friend over a feather duster while the misfortune of the world gnashed at the gates just beyond their happy scene. \n\nCarina would remember that day with unspeakable fondness as the day she understood why someone would climb into a river in all their clothes. She understood the thrill of stolen candy, and of good rum stashed away on the kitchen shelf. She understood what put the curls in Dimitra Florakis' hair, and what that wonderful woman kept tied up in the knot of her headscarves. She understood how lucky she was to be sharing in it, for these fleeting moments. \n\nWith her fingers around Dimitra's wrist, deep as it was in the licorice jar, Carina froze to hear the squeal of an automobile's handbrake. The weekly shipment was here. Suddenly, gravity rushed in to swallow their happy girlish moment. They were standing in the Bigby Family General Store in Briar Ridge, Virginia. There was a grocery delivery out back that needed to be paid and unloaded, and Carina was the person who needed to do it. The sigh that pushed its way from her chest was more of a groan, and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling and back down at Dimitra. \n\n\"That's the delivery man.\" She said, narrowing her eyes at the candy thief in her clutches, \"I'm going to go pay him, and help him unload his truck, and by the time I come back, two things should be true.\" Her eyes flickered between Dimitra's, a wry smile curling up her lips. \n\"One, I should have exactly as much candy in these jars as I see right now. And two, you should be out of my sight, Dimitra Florakis, lest I call the sheriff on your sticky fingers.\" She couldn't help but grin, extracting herself from the tangle of their limbs. \n\n\"Begone, riff raff! And don't come back unless you've cooked me dinner!\" \n_ _" } ]	345.5	5,405
326.866667	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Ike Horowitz finally had enough strength in him to be able to go to the general store by himself. He still felt a little strange whenever he got to the end of his limited range of motion, but at least he was walking and grabbing items without feeling like he was going to pass out.\n\nOne day, Ike knew, he would be better and the scars on his torso would be just that; scars. If they even scarred at all. Ike had been taking special care of his wounds in hope that the scarring wouldn't be too bad, or perhaps not stay at all. That would be a miracle. One that Ike was hopeful for, but not banking on.\n\nThe Bigby Family General Goods Store was limited, that much was obvious... But it still had a good enough array of the basics that Ike could stand and mumble to himself over what he Really Needed. Did he need more grains, or was he better off buying bread freshly baked? Would he be better off getting sugar, or would it be best to avoid the extra cost?\n\nIke was a numbers man. He liked adding up the costs in his mind, flexing his fingers as he counted off items and their each positive attributes. Ike was in his own world. One that contained him and only him. Well... Him And The worker clearing shelves of dust on the other side of the store.\n\n\"Hm,\" Ike hummed. \"Oats... Cheap, filling... Only tasty enough to have each day if paired with sugar. Worth it? Maybe... Maybe not.\"\n\nIke was mumbling to himself, he knew that. He also knew that if anyone saw him that he was likely to look like a madman. He was lucky that no one else was in the store. No one except for the worker, though they had their back turned and their mind elsewhere.\n\nIke was blissfully alone. Free to think and forget the world around him. Because no one else was around, right?\n\nRight?\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Owen Barnes", "message": "The blizzard had come and gone and with every day that the snow melted, the Barnes family grew more restless. While they'd made sure to stock up before they were stuck inside, they'd neglected to look over what needed to be refilled—namely, sugar, tea, and coffee.\n\nSo, unfortunately for Owen, those two days he was hunkered down were spent listening to his mother lament her lack of caffeine. Jessie scowled at their plain oatmeal at breakfast, and Owen missed the blueberry tea he drank most mornings. As soon as the snow melted enough for them to get past the farm's boundary, a bundled-up Josephine and Owen made their way into town, and more importantly, into the general store.\n\nHe offered the clerk an awkward nod of the head once he'd stepped inside, and unfurled his scarf till it hung loosely around his neck. Owen wasn't very familiar with the store just yet, despite his new frequency in town, so he wandered into the isles, eyes fixed on the shelves.\n\nOwen didn't look up when the door opened once again, followed by his mother's loud greeting, and then the tapping of her shoes as she scurried over to find him.\n\nA few things happen quite quickly after that.\n\nFirstly, Owen realized there was another man in the aisle, mumbling something under his breath. Secondly, his mother was approaching faster than she should for being indoors, and she was at risk of running into something. Finally, he remembered that he'd stopped when he saw this other man, and he was in the oncoming collision site with his over-excited mother.\n\nWith his name still on her lips, Josephine bumped into her son, which made Owen stumble into the stranger with the full force of a man not expecting to be toppled by his sixty-year-old mother.\n\n\"Owen, sweetie, I am so sorry-\" Josephine began, but all Owen could think about was how fast he could bolt out of there without this man realizing.\n\n...Not fast enough, realistically.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Ike had been having a peaceful day. One filled with reflections about his time in Briar Ridge - good And Bad - and a pleasant walk around town to the grocery store. Mumbling to himself happily about the most efficient things to buy, and what will get him through the chilly weather that remained.\n\nAnd then...\n\nThe world always has to interrupt him, doesn't it? Indeed, it does. Ike stumbles, he drops his little notepad. Despite being reasonably agile on his feet usually, one cannot out manoeuvre an unexpected bump from a man almost a foot taller tham ones self.\n\nIke falls.\n\nInstead, he doesn't. Not quite anyway. Ike manages to grab onto something with both hands, grasps it and keeps himself upright only to realise something rather... Embarrassing. Isaac Horowitz is holding onto the big man's shirt, balled fists clutching it like a woman about to faint in front of her husband. Like a heroine from those trashy books he tried to read once, but turned his nose up at.\n\nIke keeps clinging for a moment, afraid to move lest he feel skin to skin contact and feel that horrible awful Burning Like always. Because that's what's going to happen; Ike is going to feel this mans hand against his forearm and it's going to burn. Like with everyone that's ever touched him.\n\nSo he stays clutching Owen, and makes a pathetic attempt at conversation. \"Ah.\" Ike stutters, glasses askew. \"The oats aren't That Exciting.\"\n\nStupid. Not even vaguely funny.\n\nAnd yet Ike is strangely proud of himself for even getting the sentence Out Of his mouth." }, { "author": "Owen Barnes", "message": "The grip on his shirt surprises him out of his mortified reverie, and Owen's head jerks down to observe the... Considerably smaller man who clings to him. There is a genuine possibility that Owen's shirt will tear under the stranger's grip, and, without thought, Owen is grabbing his forearm to steady them both.\n\nThen the stranger says something about oats that can only prompt a small, uncertain smile from Owen, alongside a soft 'sorry'.\n\n\"Owen Barnes!\" Comes the shrill call of his mother.\n\n\"Mama, I already-\"\n\nHis mother waves him off as she bends low to grab the notepad and, after shoving it into Owen's free hand and giving the pair a once over, she scurries off to another aisle.\n\nThe speed at which his mortification comes back is almost a new record.\n\n\"I, uh,\" He tries, seeming to look everywhere but the man's face. This is Not How he wanted this outing, or any for that matter, to go. The man doesn't seem upset, thankfully, but every damn synapse in his brain is firing off and telling him to Flee.\n\n\"I'm sorry, again.\" His voice is low as he takes a step back to give the stranger more space. \"About running into you, and about my mother. She means well, but she can be... Loud.\"\n\n\"Are... Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "The hand on his forearm should burn. It should and that is what Ike expects, so he shudders and closes his eyes tight and braces for the all over horrible feeling of—\n\nOf nothing.\n\nIke's eyes opened, and he looked to the large man's mother as she scurried off to retrieve God only knew what. There was a moment when Ike did not let to of Owen, a moment when his hand still gripped the others forearm as if to marvel at the fact that he could. Ike was touching someone, skin to skin, and he didn't feel any which way about it.\n\nTo literally everyone else in town, this was a given; to a man who had never once been able to do this since he could form memories though? This was a big thing.\n\nFinally Ike let go of the other mans forearm, and Ike shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. Ike avoided the other mans eyes, and only brought his hand out to fix his classes.\n\nIke shook his head. \"No need to apologise.\" Ike swallowed hard, afraid that something was Wrong With either himself or this tree of a man. Good things didn't happen to Isaac Horowitz, not this easily. \"I know an intentional shove from an accidental one.\"\n\nThe implication of this was a little sad at best. Ike felt the need to recover, in some way.\n\n\"Your mother is fine. Besides, I've... Been in a few tussles. I can handle a shove.\" Ike said. He tried to sound sure and true, but all he did was crane his neck up and blink behind his glasses. This short four-eyed guy had not willingly gotten into tussles, and that much was obvious even to a blind man.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Owen Barnes", "message": "Ike's reassurances don't do much for Owen, and his good brow furrows as he looks the shorter man over. Outwardly, he looks fine, but anxiety still settles low and cold in Owen's stomach all the same.\n\n\"Even with it being an accident, I know I'm a... Big fella, and it'd be all too easy to hurt you.\" His eye widens, \"Not that I think you're not capable, I only just- you know. I'm sorry.\"\n\nHe takes another step back, his gaze shooting to the floor to avoid Ike's eyes. The notebook still weighs heavily in his hand, but all he needs to do is just hand it over! It should be simple, it shouldn't be making his nerves worse, and it Definitely Shouldn't make the hair on the back of his neck prickle.\n\nUnfortunately for Owen, a conversation is never as simple as he'd like it to be.\n\n\"Your, ah, notebook.\" He thrusts the pad in Ike's direction, nodding once. \"For your oats. You... Were talking about oats, right? Oats are nice.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "\"They are,\" Ike agreed, \"But I wonder whether they're worth it.\"\n\nIke took his notebook back and held it in both hands, though he still wondered what on earth was the matter with him; no one on God's green earth had been able to touch him without eliciting some form of discomfort or even pain.\n\nWhat was so special about this man?\n\n\"They're only good with sugar, or perhaps berries... But I've not got the knowledge of these woods to be able to confidently pick out the ones that won't Kill me, and sugar is an unnecessary expense if its only purpose is to make my oatmeal edible-\"\n\nIn that moment Isaac realised that perhaps this man mentioned oats being 'nice' not because he wanted to discuss the 'financial versus comfort' benefit of oats and sugar... Maybe the man just wanted a clean exit to the conversation.\n\nAh.\n\nIke tapped his fingers in rapid succession on the notebook. He stared at the oats, and looked down to his notebook.\n\n\"I um. I also have fresh meat on the list.\" Ike said. \"Perhaps if I make friends with a hunter, then I can save some money And Get outside more instead of agonising over oats.\" Ike forced a huff of laughter." }, { "author": "Owen Barnes", "message": "Owen chuckled a tad nervously, his voice soft and low. \"I don't know too much about berries either- my sister's husband has always been a forager, and he always talks about... Paw... Paws? Pawpaws? It's more of a fruit, not a berry. Honey's nice, but I don't... Know if that's more expensive.\"\n\nFortunately or unfortunately for Ike, Owen didn't seem to Want To leave the conversation, he simply floundered for a subject to land on. Ike appeared to be a smart man, smarter than Owen was, and he didn't know what smart folk talked about. Numbers? Poetry? A third thing he didn't know?\n\n\"My sisters say the butcher's got good meat, so you wouldn't have to meet a hunter if you didn't want to? They say they're real nice, too, if that makes any difference.\"\n\nOwen fussed with the sleeve of his jacket, then finally raised his gaze from the floor to look at Ike. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his mother as she yapped the ear off of the sole worker, and a pang of sympathy shot through him.\n\n\"...Your glasses are nice.\"\n\nThe Barnes knack of conversation was always something he mourned never having.\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Huh. The butcher. Ike never even considered having meat that had been prepared away from his watchful eye. To him, the initial thought brought forth visions of sickness... Bad tastes... Aches and pains.\n\nBut perhaps he ought to step out of his comfort zone.\n\nBefore Ike could think of a way to reply, Owen complimented him. Ike looked up, confused and shocked. This reaction wasn't because of the admittedly strange phrasing or subject, but because Ike had never really gotten a compliment before. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't exactly conventional. No unconventional man would ever expect a Compliment, especially not out of the blue.\n\n\"Oh.\" Ike touched his glasses. \"Thuh-They're old.\"\n\nWhat a comeback. Ike felt his face grow hot so surely he had to be blushing, which brought on another bout of overthinking. Owen furthered the conversation even after Ike had given him the opportunity to leave, so did that mean he wanted to chat? What did chatting really entail - how much depth could he get into before an invisible line was crossed?\n\nIke decided to find out, however risky it was. \"Did you know that all the bees you see collecting pollen are males? Drones. They're father to at least a few Other Drones, because the queen bee mates with lots of them over time to keep genetic diversity.\" Ike swallowed. He pushed up his glasses. \"Spuh-Speaking of honey...\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Owen Barnes", "message": "\"They still look nice,\" He offered with a small shrug. \"Old can be good, too.\"\n\nIt's not difficult to see the flush come to Ike's cheeks from where he's standing, but he doesn't comment on it. Hell- he's experienced his fair share of embarrassed blushes, who was he to point it out to him?\n\nA small, passing thought told him the color looked nice on his cheeks.\n\nThe sudden onslaught of information on bees caught him by surprise for a moment, but the surprise quickly morphed into... Fascination. It'd been years since he was last in school, and any new learning opportunities were few and far between, aside from the tidbits he'd get from his niblings.\n\n\"What's genetic diversity?\" The sudden strength of his voice surprised him, but he continued all the same. \"Why are there no female drones, either? Wouldn't it be better if they split off and made pairs instead of one queen having a bunch of baby daddies?\"\n\nA few paces away, a choked gasp can be heard, but Owen pays it no mind.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Oh, this is brilliant! This was more than Ike could have hoped for. Usually when Isaac Horowitz thrusted himself into a conversation using facts and jargon, people around him give him a Look. One that meant that he ought to stand on the sidelines. Be seen, not heard.\n\nBut Owen. Oh, Owen. This big guy asked follow up questions! Ones that indicated that he had listened and taken in what he could, then figured out what he didn't understand. Owen wanted to understand. Ike blinked. He took a second or two longer to contemplate those questions, and then he pressed his hands together with the notebook betwixt them.\n\n\"Well, Genetic diversity is just... Your mother and father give half of their genes to make You, and since they weren't brother and sister their genes weren't the same.\" Ike glanced up at Owen. He wanted to make sure that assumption was right, but Owen was too attractive (Ike made a note to unpack That Justification later). \"But if two relatives - cousins, siblings - have a baby then their genes kind of... Screw with each other. That's why those babies get sick, or they look like freaks.\"\n\nIke shrugged.\n\n\"Animals know its wrong too... So I guess bees have to do what they can. They can't just change nature, you know? A wolf can't buy his meat from the butcher, and bees can't change how they procreate.\" Ike explained. He chuckled a little. \"Though I would Quite Like to see a wolf buy meat from the butcher... Perhaps he'd try to wear pants and walk on two legs.\"" }, { "author": "Owen Barnes", "message": "Owen actually Smiled At the continued stream of information, the gesture bringing out the dimples in his cheeks. He didn't fully understand, of course, not like Ike did, but it fed into a curiosity that had been long starved.\n\n\"I get it, a little bit: you've gotta have two different things to make something new, or else it'll get muddy if the things are too similar.\"\n\nHe paused, then chuckled softly. \"I think it'd be a sight to see, but I wouldn't be too trustful of a wolf like that, even if it acted like a man. I don't think he'd be able to pay for his meat, neither, and I'd hate to be the butcher that would have to haggle with him over it.\"\n\n\"I'm... Owen, by the way, but you already heard my name.\" Owen thought momentarily, then gingerly held his hand out to shake, the movement screaming uncertainty. \"Do you know other things besides bees, oats, and wolves? I'd... Like to hear more if you'd be up for it. You can always say no, though! I don't want to put you out at all!\"\n\nHe felt his face warm but tried to swallow down his nerves. The worst this stranger could say was no, and he could always... Find another learned man, surely? Someone who'd answer his questions, or speak on and on while he listened? Men liked to talk, his sisters were always saying that, but Ike felt different: those men would go on about working or something crass, but never something so interesting like bees, surely.\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Ike's skin tingled. Pleasant little pricks against his skin. A thousand benevolent insects skittered across his chest. His arms. Up his spine and to the skin of his neck.\n\nExcitement.\n\nIke was able to identify this feeling, not because of symptoms but because excitement was So very rare These days. It had always been uncommon, but lately Ike had been unable to grasp the mere inclination of it. With every thought of morality scraping the insides of his cranium, the thoughts of man and monster, feelings blossoming in his chest that scared and aroused him. A wolf inside his ribcage. A wolf, caged but barely. A wolf rabid for flesh, inside the body of a man equally as rabid for it.\n\nIke wasn't sure whether he wanted to touch someone, or sink his blunt teeth into their soft flesh. Ike wasn't sure whether one was himself and the other a monster, or whether he had simply been starving for too long. Perhaps both were Ike; the wolf asleep and curled up peacefully while the man agonised over his own monstrous shortcomings. \n\n\"Isaac.\" Ike croaked, \"Ike. Isaac Horowitz.\"\n\nThe opportunity arose, then, to press his skin to Owen's. To feel the distinct Lack Of pain that it wrought. Ike jumped at the opportunity like he never had before. Their hands made a noise as he smacked them together. A soft noise, like a bug that hit a window.\n\n\"I like bodies.\" Ike blinked. Pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. He was still shaking Owen's hand. Still grasping it.\n\nWarm.\n\nCalloused.\n\nIke wanted to take one of Owen's fingers and inspect it. Wanted to hold it close so he could map the hills and valleys of skin. Ike resisted this urge, but he felt the distinct tensity of his arm as he let go of the others hand.\n\n\"I... I work with dead people. I... I have a sketchbook of medical diagrams. Some I drew myself. Some from experiments with food and woodland creatures that died in the forest. I think man ought to know how decay takes us. If I could pinpoint exactly how a woman died, and exactly when it happened, then perhaps I could avenge her.\" Ike looked down to Owen's hand again. To his hair.\n\n\"If you wanted to look through it, that would be,\" Ike crumpled his grocery list in his hand, \"Good. No one else ever has.\"" }, { "author": "Owen Barnes", "message": "\"I like bodies.\"\n\nOwen didn't balk, nor did he laugh at the words. He focused on shaking Ike's hand- not too rough, lest he jostled the smaller man's arm off his shoulder. His hand was smooth and slightly colder than the air around them, but still far removed from the chill outside. \n\nIt was... Nice, pleasant, even. He couldn't even recall the last time he'd been able to hold a conversation like this, without the telltale wisps of fear clinging to him like moss to a tree. Owen was still nervous, granted, but it was almost a Giddy Nervousness- something he hadn't felt since he was a teen.\n\nHe tampered down his disappointment when Ike let go of his hand, and let his hand fall to his side.\n\n\"That's... Gosh, that's fascinating. Almost like seeing into the past, isn't it?\" His good eye widened. \"You'd be able to do so much Good With that, Ike- hell, you could always apply what you learn to living people too, right? You could Stop People from dying! That's... Amazing.\"\n\nOwen looked downright shy at the offer to look through the notebook, his shoulders hunched up to his ears. \"I'd love to look at your drawings, as... Long as you tell me how you draw? I always like watching people draw, if they let me. Y-You don't have to, though- I'm just grateful that you'd let me look at your notebook.\"\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "That giddy nervousness infecting Owen had become a roaring fire inside Ike. He could barely breathe, barely even look the man in the eyes. Ike could barely keep Owen's gaze but also, at the same time, he wouldn't dare look away.\n\n'That's... Gosh, that's fascinating.'\n\n'You could stop people from dying!'\n\n\"Yes! Yes, precisely. I could stop people from dying if I knew how to find killers based on how they kill, and how the bodies of their victims decompose after death. It's...\" Ike swallowed. He blinked hard, and then huffed out the closest thing to a laugh he could muster.\n\n\"I would be honoured if you looked at my drawings.\"\n\nIke meant every word that he said. He had no idea what it was that had sparked between them, just as he did not know why his usual reaction to touch didn't occur, but what he did know was that Owen was the perfect person to open up to. The strangest, most off-putting parts of Ike seemed to fascinate him.\n\n\"I... I could show you how.\" Ike offered. \"So long as we meet somewhere quiet, and we have time to stay a while. I've... I've never had the opportunity to teach someone something, but I've always wanted to.\"" } ]	324	4,903
432	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Lily Ann Brooks", "message": "Lily had acquired new clothes (and more) from Hazel. She believed she could sell the image of a 'tidy young woman' now. They were dressed in a modest cream coloured dress with long sleeves hiding the stitch work the tailor had done on their arms. Lily thought she'd never before looked as innocent as she currently did. Innocent, it had been many years since she had shrugged off that particular descriptor. She doubted she'd ever be able to find her name next to it in the dictionary ever again. They knew what they'd done. They knew what she had _needed_ to do to survive. Was she a sinner? Maybe. But no less guilty than those who were weak enough to fall for her tricks and lies. She pushed open the door of the general store, seeing the note still tucked in the window gave her hope the room might still be available. \n\nLily was met with a young woman around her own age, if not a good few inches taller, behind the counter. \"Good day to you miss, I am looking for _CT_? I'd like to inquire about the room for rent.\" Lily's tone was polite, if not slightly nervous. They were ready to bargain on the price of rent if it proved to be an inhospitable amount. They were always ready to bargain. Though they doubted it would be reaching the same costs as she and Ada had paid back in the city. Granted, Lily currently lacked the same levels of income she'd enjoyed then. _Then._ It had barely been a day but it already felt like a lifetime away. In terms of looking like she was less wealthy than she was, maybe a new dress hadn't been the best choice of attire. It indicated she had enough disposable income to her name that she could afford brand new dresses without a special occasion being the foundation for such purchases.\n\nBut anything was an improvement compared to the flapper dress and man's suit jacket they'd worn when they'd stumbled into town. On top of that, she _did_ have money and this CT would likely not rent to someone who wasn't able to pay consistently. She'd have to worry about a job next, after ticking of the current item on her to-do list." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "While Carina's new home had been slowly filling up with furniture and trinkets, the air was still and sad. All of the space reserved for Mrs. Bigby was empty and hollow, and all the space in Carina's mind reserved for the woman felt much the same. The more she furnished the bare rooms, the more her savings depleted, all the while her sense of vacancy remained unsoothed. \n\nShe was loath to admit her loneliness, but bankruptcy was in fact easier to claim. She had posted the notice in search of a roommate at a time when she needed both company and financial support, but only one of which she was willing to advertise. \n\nWith Dimitra so gravely injured, and her singular found family member dead from injuries sustained from the same source, Carina's social life lately relied on customer interactions. She knew she could visit Dimitra. She knew she Should, but she'd heard how severely the woman had suffered the werewolf's bite. Carina wasn't ready for another goodbye. Selfishly, she wanted to remember Dimitra as she had been when she was whole: smiling beside her on a pallet of blankets, the taste of moonshine on her lips. Truly, it was only a matter of time before her care for Dimitra won out, but at this point, she faced the hurdle of embarrassment at having waited so long to come visit. \n\nThe chime of the bell on the door was a wash of relief. Carina straightened her spine where she sat on her stool behind the register, her eyes refocusing from their point of hazy, mid-distant staring and onto the person that had entered. A stranger. The shopkeeper flipped through her internal rolodex of facial expressions and body language, landing on the set that would project indifferent superiority. She crossed her arms. She tilted up her chin. She mitigated her excitement at the person's interest in the room, fiercely guarding her desperation with a gentle scowl. \n_ _\n\n\"I believe the room is still available.\" She paused, \"What brings you to Briar Ridge?\" Carina's tone was terse and judgemental, though she kept her speech free of insults for the time being. She liked this person's dress, and the slight hesitant nervousness of their inquiry. Her interest lay in toeing the line between commanding respect and outright intimidation. She did not plan to reveal herself as CT until she had conducted a thorough screening. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Lily Ann Brooks", "message": "The woman before her had an air of importance. Strange, for a store clerk. It wasn't a role that Lily deemed important enough for the attitude the woman seemed to hold. Maybe it was something else that made the clerk feel like she was better and above Lily. Whatever it was, Lily decided they didn't like her. They did not do well with those who saw themselves above others. Well, _others_ she could deal with, her being deemed lesser than was the real problem. Hypocritical for sure. Lily saw themselves as superior to quite a few people, but could not deal with being on the receiving end.\n\nNothing specifically brought them to Briar Ridge. Rather, something forced her away from her previous home. But she couldn't very well tell this woman that she was an escaped and still actively wanted criminal. Criminals did not tend to be good candidates for renting rooms. Especially those firmly out of a job. Lily opted for the next best thing, a story that was mostly true, which made sounding convincing that much easier. \"I wanted a change of pace. I've lived in big cities my whole life.\" Lie number one. \"I grew tired of the constant noise, the polluted air, the crowded streets, and the lack of actual connection between people. I've wanted to move to the countryside for years and finally got myself to actually do it.\" Lie number two and three. \"Something about this place drew me in, I know it might sound silly but it just feels _right_ here for me.\" Lily felt like every visitor to the city she'd met, head over heels with a place they barely knew. Tourists were always easy pickings. \"Big cities have nothing left for me, I'm done with them. I'm hoping to start fresh here.\" The first full truth in their story.\n_ _\n\nLily was done with cities, with the politics of organized crime, with the speakeasies pretending they were elite clubs, with men thinking they owned her, with the police force, with the backstabbing and lying and constant changing of aliases. They were done. They were ready to be one person again. To just be Lily: a person with facets and fluidity, but whole in the end. They'd never taken the time to truly figure out who they were when it wasn't in a context of manipulation and lying. She wasn't sure she could ever exist without some part of her being constructed from falsehoods. Maybe Briar Ridge would prove to be the fertile ground in which she could root and bloom into the Lily they were always meant to be. Or maybe hers would remain a brief stay, maybe police would find them, maybe she'd mess up and have to run again. Anything could happen." }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "No one came to Briar Ridge for the Fresh air. They might stay put because of the mountains, the river rich in fish, the relative quiet of the starry nights– but this town didn't have a reputation for peace. It didn't have a reputation for anything, really. In Carina's experience, if you weren't born here, you were delivered to Briar Ridge in a time of desperation, and you clung to the town like a life raft. Her world view being so singular as it was, she refused to easily believe any divergence from her own specific truth. But still, she listened to the woman before her. \n\n\"That's really beautiful, miss.\" Carina commented dryly, her expression blank. \n\"I'm guessing you haven't been here very long. But. So long as your idea of a 'fresh start,'\" She emphasized the words and punctuated them with narrowed eyes, \"Includes a town-wide bloodbath every time the full moon comes around, I think this town will be just perfect for you.\" Now, she smiled, crossing one knee over the other and folding her fingers on top. \n\n\"I'm sure since you took enough time looking this town over to be Drawn in, Then you'll already know plenty about the attacks.\" She went on, drawing a notebook out from below the counter. She flipped to a page marked with a ribbon. \n\n\"Rent will be ten dollars a month. And C.T. Will want to know how soon you can move in?\" Her demeanor had changed from salty and judgemental to nearly chipper. She was a professional parade-rainer, and she loved her job. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Lily Ann Brooks", "message": "Carina didn't seem to fully buy their story, and with good reason. Lily might have been good with words before, but she was severely out of her depth here. She forced her face to remain void of shock and horror, but oh Lord did she feel it. Had Carina been looking at them, she likely would have been able to pick up on the real emotions Lily experienced hearing of Briar Ridge's darker side. Town-wide bloodbaths, attacks, during full moons? She could not possibly talk her way out of this. The woman seemed dead serious too, which only worried Lily further. What on earth had they gotten herself into? Out of the frying pan of nightclubs and into the fire that was Briar Ridge it seemed. Lily preferred fires she decided. Even if that fire did come with monthly bloodbaths. They had definitely _not_ had enough time to look this town over. All they knew was that the local tailor possessed moonshine and did not ask questions when Lily had shown up covered in cuts. Hazel had mentioned that there were others like Lily, who kept their pasts clenched close to their chests.\n\nThey were slowly piecing what little information they had together. As much as she could, there was a werewolf-shaped puzzle piece that she had yet to find in her pile, and the spot it fit into was right in the middle of the Briar Ridge picture. She wanted to ask Carina what she meant, but she needed that room, _desperately_ needed it. Carina was between them and it. The moment they had keys in hand they would be storming right back to Carina to question her about the insanity she just spewed. \"I'm sure I can handle it. I've been around trigger happy folk before.\" She was decidedly _not_ sure.\n_ _\n\nTen dollars sounded entirely adequate to Lily, who was used to paying much, _much_ more than that. She had to keep in mind that she came from a place where money flowed quickly and plentiful, the stream in Briar Ridge was more of a brook than a river. She may as well try to lower the cost of rent, spending less money was always beneficial in Lily's eyes. \"If they would agree to a rate of 9 dollars, I could move in immediately. Though I would like to meet C.T. Before then, if possible. I like knowing who I am paying.\" Lily felt like it was a reasonable request. She was itching for a formal agreement so they could get back to Carina and ask her what on earth she had been talking about when she casually mentioned _full moon attacks._" }, { "author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn", "message": "With the same blank mask, Carina looked up from her notebook for Lily's response. Trigger happy. She wondered what it meant, but given the two of them would be spending a lot of time together, she figured she'd hear the stories sooner or later. \n\n\"Nine dollars, fifty cents, and I think she'd honor it.\" The shopkeeper nodded curtly, reaching for a pencil to write down the address of the old Baker house. Tearing the page from her notebook, she stepped around the counter to hand it to Lily. \n\n\"Six o'clock sharp. She's always home by six. I'll let her know to expect you.\" Carina was giddy with herself over the ruse she'd planted. It was rare that she got to orchestrate such time-dependent tricks, but Lord knew she had the patience for them. In situations of her own design, as long as she held the reigns, she had limitless patience. \n_ _" } ]	478.5	2,592
400	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Another week had gone by, and Freddie figured that surviving until Friday merited a little fun.\n\nThough he'd given most of his weekly pay packet to his father as usual (while he was a man now, Freddie was not yet the sort of man to be trusted with the running of a household and budget), he still had a few coins that weighed heavy in his pocket after restocking Angel's feed and straw, and buying fabric scraps from Miss Hazel to roughly repair a hole in her favourite blanket. So as the sun was just slipping over the horizon, he buttoned his coat and walked to the old barn, hoping to find somebody to talk to and maybe a drink to go along with the conversation. \n\nIt was a quiet night, as most nights had been since the full moon. People didn't seem to want to spend too much time away from their homes and their loved ones after all that had transpired that night, and who could blame them? Freddie could only be thankful that he was used to leaving early in the mornings, coming home not long before dark, and that he didn't have to deal with weighted and worried goodbyes each day. Still he could see the relief in his mother's eyes each day he came home unscathed, taste it in the hot cocoa she kept hot on the stovetop waiting for him.\n\nBut he was fine. He would always come home just fine, he'd promised enough people he wouldn't go getting himself hurt. His parents, his sisters, Florian and Olivia... They were counting on him, some of them more than others. Particularly the Barcas had already been through enough lately, they didn't need him adding more to the loads they had to bear.\n\nSo Freddie made his way alone through darkening streets, and slipped in the door of the speakeasy unseen. Here, too, was quiet, but he'd expected nothing less. A lone musician played the fiddle in the corner of the room, and Freddie ran his thumb over one of the metal cover plates of the harmonica in his pocket. A drink or two and perhaps he'd be convinced to join in song, but he wasn't sure there'd be much dancing.\n\nStill, he could see where the night took him. Home was only so far away. \n\nUp at the bar, the woman pouring the bottles gave him a smile and a wave of recognition. He'd still never asked her name, but she was older, and always looked upon him kindly when he came in. He didn't need to tell her what he wanted any more, before he knew it she was bringing him a short glass of the applejack he'd gotten a taste for at the Christmas soiree, and he slid over a coin in return and told her Keep the change. \n\nThen, she was gone again, and he was left alone with his thoughts, and with the company of the few people in the barn this early in the evening. A sweep of the room confirmed he didn't know any of them, though there were faces he might recognise if he thought hard enough about placing them. Maybe it'd be better if he waited to see if anyone approached him first.\n\nHe wasn't really sure Why He'd come tonight. But he was too restless to sit at home, and he'd seen Florian near enough every night this week and knew that the hospital allowed later visiting hours on Fridays, so his only real friend would be with his brother until after nightfall. There weren't many other places in Briar Ridge that a man could just Go To, and so he found himself here when he was at loose ends. Like now.\n\nIt was on his third glance around the room that someone caught his eye. Not a friend - no, a stranger just like the rest, but a somewhat striking-looking one, all long black hair and a stern expression, scars on their face like so many others in town these days, and a white cast on their arm.\n\nIt only took a moment for Freddie to slide down to the end of the bar and into a seat next to them.\n\"Hey.\"\nGreat Start.\n\"What happened to your arm?\"\nSomehow worse.\n\"Was it a werewolf?\"\nIt was probably time, Freddie thought, to close his mouth.\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Going to the speakeasy had been a last-minute decision.\n\nCharlie had been confining themselves to their shared apartment at the start of their recovery, both out of genuine exhaustion and to make sure Emery wouldn't worry their pretty head off even More About them. The thought of them with that same terror they had that full moon was enough to make Charlie's stomach turn, and they'd do anything to prevent it for as long as possible.\n\nStill, by the time a full week had passed, they'd started growing restless. Life didn't slow down for anyone, and being confined to that apartment only seemed to stretch the hours forever onward. Unfortunately, by the time they'd grown enough courage to head out again, it was already nearing night, and there was only one place they knew of that would be open at that hour.\n\nAfter telling Emery of their plan, smoothing over the furrow in their brow with their fingers as they lay in bed with their banjo, Charlie slipped out into the night, coat half hung over their broken arm.\n\nIt was... Surprisingly nice. The fiddle player wasn't half bad, though they didn't have any room to talk themselves, and the music drifted along the barn like the sweetest type of smoke. They'd waved off any offer of liquor and instead asked for water to keep their head clear, not that Charlie expected it to be needed.\n\n...Truthfully, most of it tasted like swill to them.\n\nAs Freddie slid in beside them, Charlie didn't so much as blink, though their arms bristled with goosebumps. Of Course This stranger approached them on their left, which had been rendered vulnerable by their broken arm. If they tried anything, it'd be easy to get them-\n\n\"What happened to your arm?\"\n\nCharlie blinked.\n\n\"Was it a werewolf?\"\n\nThey turned, brows furrowed.\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\nCharlie opened their mouth to reply but was only able to gape like a fish. Sure, they weren't stellar at conversation themselves, but by god, what a way to make them stumble.\n\n\"I... Yeah. Wolf got to me.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Thankfully, the stranger didn't seem too upset by Freddie's bluntness, which made a change; he often felt as though he'd put his foot in his mouth when it came to conversations. Maybe he had and they were just too polite to mention it. Or maybe they really didn't mind. Either way, he'd said it now, so there was no point in trying to take it back. \n\"Sorry. Not the best way to greet someone, I know... Mama's always sayin' I need to think more before I speak.\" He grinned. \"I'm Freddie, by the way. Sorry about your arm. Hope it's not hurtin' ya too badly.\" \nHe nodded to them, and took a small sip of his drink. \n\n\"I ain't known anybody get attacked by one yet. 'Cept for Mr Barca and he's not up to conversations just yet. S'why I asked. If you don't feel like talkin' about it, tell me and I'll change the subject.\" He was curious - he couldn't help it. Charlie had come up against a beast and wasn't lying motionless in a hospital bed. Either they'd fought it and won, or they had some kind of immense strength and resilience. Both would be pretty interesting concepts. Freddie hadn't really known it was possible to walk away from the full moon if you were targeted. His total experience so far had been seeing Valerian's bloodied bandages, and hearing about death.\nMuch more death than he'd ever thought there'd be in such a small town. \n\n\"You must be pretty brave.\"\nWhere that had come from, he wasn't quite sure, but it felt like the right thing to say. \n\"I mean, everyone here's pretty damn brave, stickin' around. Surely some people got better places to go to... Me and my folks only just got here and I'm sure Mama'd much rather we left quick as we arrived. If this happened back home there'd be families uppin' and leavin' without so much as a thought. But nobody seems to want to run from here.\"\n\nHis mouth could get him in trouble. But something about Charlie made him think he wouldn't be in trouble with Them At least. \n\n\"I gotta learn to win against 'em like you did, I guess.\"" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "\"Hardly anything to be sorry for if I'm still breathing.\" Charlie shrugged with their uninjured arm. \"You're... Fine. I'm not good at small talk anyway, might as well say whatever you want. I'm Charlie.\"\n\nHe reminded them of Sylvia, all the way back in Chicago. She had an issue with saying whatever was on her mind, social cues be damned, but Charlie had long since gotten used to her outbursts. It was... A comforting familiarity, and brought a warmth to their chest that they'd sorely missed.\n\n\"Tugging at a chain attached to a mutt going for someone else's throat isn't brave- I just didn't want to see someone else get mauled, that's all.\" They shifted in their seat and a frown had begun to tug at their face. \"I think I can say for myself, and a handful of others, that we don't have the resources to leave. Either we fight to stay here, or we lay down and die- and I'm not too interested in dying before I'm thirty.\"\n\nLearn to win...\n\n\"I don't think it's something you Can Win. They're... People, afflicted with something horrible that they can't escape from. If a cure isn't figured out soon, people are going to die, whether or not they turn into one of those things or not.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "\"You saved someone?\"\n\nThat was something Freddie needed to hear. Not only had Charlie encountered a werewolf and come away with their life intact, they'd protected someone else too. They'd taken on the beast themselves and Won - at least enough to save a life. \n\n\"I still think that's brave. Throwin' yourself out there to stop someone else's hurt. Not just anyone'd do that.\" \nHe still couldn't be sure what it was that had drawn him to Charlie besides childlike curiosity, but he was grateful for it. \n\"I got a handful of people I gotta protect if it comes down to it. So knowin' that you Can Do that an' it's not just a fantasy... That's a good thing. Can you tell me how you did it? What happened? I mean - you don't gotta. Not if it's a traumatic memory or somethin', I know it's probably not all that fun thinkin' about it... We can talk about somethin' else if you'd rather.\" He bit his lip. \"Sorry. Again. I get carried away a lot. I- I don't wanna die, either. And I don't wanna be watchin' anybody else die either. My papa says it's like a war, but I don't think he's all the way right about it. It's not a war if there's not an enemy, right? And even the wolves have lives and friends and- and people that love 'em?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "For a moment, all Charlie did was stare at Freddie. There was no malice behind their eyes, only a faint curiosity.\n\n\"You seem young, Freddie.\" They looked him over once, then shook their head. \"Probably not much younger than me, but still. You don't have to apologize for this shit- I'd tell you if it was pissing me off, and it isn't.\"\n\nCharlie sighed, \"Whoever the wolf was, they had a bear trap stuck on their leg- one of Dallas Sinclair's, I think. It was a big red thing, and it saw Ms. Cooper on the ground and just gunned for her. She didn't even fight back, not that I can blame her, since the whole thing was a downright mess.\"\n\nThey paused again, eyes growing hard. \"It would have killed her if I didn't do something, so I just... Jumped for the chain and tugged. My arm was on fire, and I remember how the blood pounded in my ears, but I still pulled until that trap hit bone. It screamed, the other wolves stopped, and then people started throwing shit to drive them off.\"\n\n\"That's... It. I pulled on a chain and saved a life.\" Charlie turned to look Freddie in the eye again, mouth opening to continue talking but stopped. Their gaze drifted over him again, more focused this time, and settled on the young man's collarbone, watching how his chest rose and fell with his breathing.\n\n\"...You've been wearing that for too long.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "\"I'm not Young,\" Freddie couldn't help but protest, but he didn't want to interrupt Charlie, so he forced himself to swallow back any further complaints and just listen. They were giving him what could turn out to be valuable information, after all. He didn't want to cut them off mid-flow and lose out. So he sipped from his glass and was quiet as they told their frankly horrifying tale. \nFreddie could only imagine the blood - spilling crimson onto snow, and the smell - and the cries of the wolf and the injured townspeople he'd heard from behind his barricaded window. He pictured Charlie yanking on the chain of the bear trap as if their life depended on it, and he closed his eyes for a moment against the image. He couldn't do that... Could he?\n\nIf someone he loved were in danger, would he be able to bring himself to it?\n\nCharlie's next words pulled him right out of his thoughts, and his breath caught in his throat as he turned to see how they were looking at him, how their gaze had come to rest not on his face, but on his chest, the opened top button of his shirt. It was as though they were looking deeper, right inside his very self, with their oddly piercing eyes. \nThey knew.\nA few minutes of conversation and they had figured out for themself the one thing that Freddie tried to keep hidden from all but those who knew him best. \n\n\"I- what?\" Feigning ignorance was a last-ditch attempt to preserve his secret. \"I'm sorry, I - I know it's been a long day an' all but I don't think I'm all that dirty to be needin' a fresh shirt just to come for a drink. I ain't got nothin' on I plan on takin' off.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "It'd been a good number of years, maybe nine since Charlie's grandfather discovered their bandages. His voice had been soft when he asked them Why, only nodding a few times as Charlie spoke of their body, eyes growing sad when described how they Hated It. They hated their burgeoning breasts, the dresses their mother would force upon them, and how boys would stare. They wished for their younger days, of the line they could dance between the lines, never rightly staying within one.\n\n\"How long, Charlie?\"\n\n\"Until I go to bed.\"\n\nThe look of horror he had still lingered in Charlie's mind, and how he'd asked about things that had become all too familiar: were their breaths shorter? Were their movements stilted? Did pain shoot through them whenever they Could Move?\n\nAfter saying Yes To all of them, his lecture lasted an hour.\n\n\"I used to do it, Freddie- almost ruined my damn ribs that way.\" They waved their good hand. \"There are better ways, you know; maybe a little warmer than what you're used to, but better than what you have going on. Pinning different fabrics together, or finding one of those... Bandeau things and ripping off all that damn lace. Maybe get someone to make you one.\"\n\nCharlie shrugged their good shoulder. \"Plenty of men do it like you do now, but I figure you'd like your ribs to stay somewhat intact.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie's expression hardened. He'd never before encountered someone else who Knew Of his practice, much less someone who'd experienced it for themselves. The way Charlie spoke didn't seem as though they were lying about it. What purpose would they have to lie anyway? \nFor the first time in his life, Freddie was able to consider that he was not, in fact, the only person on this earth who felt the things he felt - who knew such hatred for the body he'd been born with and the sex that had been thrust upon him when he was too small to understand its weight and what future it would hold for him. And what did Charlie mean when they said Plenty of men? Were there more?\nHe'd been young - So, so young - when he told his mama that he was a boy. She, bless her heart, had accepted his words without question and from that day forth he'd been allowed to bloom into the man that sat beside Charlie in the barn. No gaze that had ever befallen him had studied him so casually and dug his grand secret right out with such casual observations. \n\nHe looked away from them.\n\n\"I ain't buyin' any a' them damned frilly undergarments,\" He muttered, cheeks aflame. \"And by God I ain't standin' afore Miss Hazel an' askin' her to fit one on me. Can't you imagine the talk that'd be had should she tell anyone?\" What, pray tell, would he do if she were to tell Valerian? Women had been banished from the mines long before Freddie was born. If the coal company were to hear even a whisper of what he really was, his job would be stripped from him before he could open his mouth in protest. And then what would his family do? He had no other trade. The mine was the only reason they were here, and they had nowhere else to go.\n\nAnd as for when the word inevitably made its way back to Florian... Bile rose in Freddie's throat. It didn't bear thinking about. \nThe rest of the town, well. Rumours he could deal with, whispers he could handle. But losing what little he'd managed to build in Briar Ridge didn't bear thinking about.\n\nHe couldn't truthfully say that the wrappings didn't hurt. That he didn't ache as he unwound them nightly, that he didn't cough and cough after they were removed. More often, lately, he'd be loading up a cart at Angel's back when white-hot pain would spike through his chest and steal his very breath away. The darkness of the mines was so forgiving, concealed so much. \n\n\"What's gonna happen to my ribs? Say, if I tell you to kick rocks and take your nose outta my business? I mean- I ain't doin' that. I bothered ya in the first place. But if I weren't to heed your little warnin'?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "\"With the way you're going about it, I'd say you're risking a broken rib, maybe more. If it goes on for much longer, you could risk warping the bones themselves.\" Charlie shrugged, but their face was serious. \"Not to mention your lungs getting fucked from all the pressure- bruises, too.\"\n\nThey didn't know the local seamstress- they didn't need to. Any mending was regulated to either themselves or Emery, insistent on not paying any townsfolk to patch up anything that could easily be fixed themselves. Would it be pretty? Probably not, if Charlie was doing it, but it was better than having another expense that weighed on their already guilty conscience.\n\nThe solution that came to Charlie's mind was easy, though.\n\n\"If this 'Miss Hazel' has any sense in her mind, she'd keep her mouth shut about things that aren't her business.\" Charlie waved their good arm in the air. \"It should be easy for a seamstress or seamster to make a bandeau without all those stupid frills and feminine shit, and you should get one so you don't fuck up your bones before you're forty.\"\n\nThey leaned back, huffing. \"Hell, I'll get it for you, if you give me your measurements. I don't care what people say about me.\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie couldn't hide the way his nose wrinkled when Charlie mentioned broken ribs. He was no stranger to pain, but he'd never broken a bone before and didn't have any desire to know what it felt like. He looked at their arm, and decided it was best not to say that part aloud. \nBones could Warp? That, too, was a new revelation. And he needed his lungs. The coal dust already made it hard enough to breathe. How much worse could it get before he, like the canary in her cage far below the surface, succumbed and fell silent, never to sing again? \n\nThere was, of course, the chance that Charlie was just saying all this to frighten him into listening. But he felt a sort of kinship with them that he didn't quite understand, and couldn't put his finger on even one reason why they might lie right to his face. Perhaps they were truly looking out for him, and their concern was real. They were, after all, offering him things he'd never been offered before - they would go to the tailor For him. They wouldn't tell anyone what they knew. \n\n\"You don't gotta. I don't know my own measurements and I doubt my mama'd take too kind to me raidin' her sewin'-basket for her tape an' not tellin' her what it was I wanted it for.\" He sighed softly. \"I don't mean ta' shoot down the idea. Know you're jus' wantin' to help me, for some reason, but I can't. I can't do it, Charlie, I'm not ready for any a' that. There ain't a soul here or back home that knows about it past my family. I... I could lose it all. At the drop of a pin. I can't go takin' that kinda risk... I'll tie 'em looser. Or wear 'em less, or-or somethin', but I can't go without altogether. I won't let Fl- anyone see what's underneath.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "\"I know you could, Freddie.\" Their voice grew soft, something they'd only reserved for their sisters or Emery. \"It'd be a big risk, and I'm not going to tell you what to do here, but you need to be Careful. Take breaks, wear them looser, something- you could seriously hurt yourself.\"\n\nCharlie understood, of course- any other place outside of Briar Ridge had looked at them like they were a freak at the best of times, or the spawn of the devil at worst. Briar Ridge had some semblance of relief in allowing them to be who they were, and in finding Emery, but cruelty to their true self was still inlaid in most things they saw. They'd come to understand it, to roll their eyes and move their attention elsewhere, but the hurt and fear were still Raw For Freddie, and they'd be a fool to tell him his caution was worthless.\n\n\"Let me show you how to do it properly, then. I'll show you how to do it with cloth on myself- a material that can breathe alongside- and you'll feel better. It'll be warmer for you, too, since you've got to layer them up.\"\n\nThey looked him over for a moment, brows pinching together, then shook their head.\n\n\"Fuck, you remind me so much of how I used to be.\" Charlie dragged their good hand down their face. \"I didn't Have Anyone like me when I did this, Freddie- just my grandpa worrying his fucking head off about my ribcage. He helped some, but he didn't get it. I Get You, and I want to help. We've got to stick together, Freddie.\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie nodded. Though he was loathe to admit it, he knew Charlie was right. They knew more about all of this than he did, and they were worth listening to - it was a rare moment when Freddie could hold his head high and admit that he was out of his depth, that he didn't know what he was doing and he was really just making it up as he went along and hoping, even praying, that it all turned out alright. It was all he'd ever done. Hidden away and pretended none of it was happening and until now, nobody had been any the wiser.\n\nIt was different, with Charlie. They were like him. Their words implied there were others. \nHe didn't have to do this alone. \nCharlie wanted to stick together.\nAnd Freddie did, too. \n\nHe had to swallow hard before he could speak again. \"Yeah- yeah. I'll do it looser, or less, or both. I'll try, Charlie, I swear I'll do what I can, I don't- I don't want it to hurt like this. Because sometimes it really goddamn hurts.\"\n\nHe took a long swallow of his drink, and hoped that he could disguise the way he needed to clear his throat as a simple cough from the burn of the liquor. \"I'd... Yeah. I'd appreciate you showin' me, if there's better ways to do it than I'm doin' now. I ain't had anybody to teach me, you know? I just... When things started changin', I was only a kid. I didn't understand what was happenin' to me, I just knew I ain't like it a bit, so I covered it up an' nobody ever told me not to so I kept goin'.\"\n\nHe turned to face them properly, and if there was a watery element to his gaze he just hoped they wouldn't mention it. \"I don't got nobody worryin' about me 'cause I don't tell 'em what I'm up to. You- you're different, you didn't need told about it. An' I... I'm sorry. That I been gettin' it all wrong so far. I didn't mean to. I ain't know it was dangerous like that an' I thought the coughin' and the pain was jus' the coal dust. All the men that've been down the mines all their lives - they all end up with it in their chests eventually. I thought it was jus' because I went down earlier'n I should've an' it was catchin' up to me... Stupid, right?\"\n\nHe sighed softly, looking down at his hands, the dust under his nails. \n\n\"I'll stick with you so long as you really mean you're wantin' ta stick by me. I ain't never had nothin' or nobody stick.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "\"You're not stupid, Freddie.\" The words were immediate, alongside the hand placed on his shoulder. \"I'm not mad at you; you've got nothing to be sorry about. You and I both know how hard this shit is, and you've had No one To tell you how to do it, so you did what you could. You didn't know.\"\n\nThey didn't mention the wateriness of his gaze, but Freddie would see it mirrored in Charlie's own, their lip having the slightest quiver.\n\nCharlie never thought of themselves as soft, or a person who would cry openly and easily. They were made of jagged edges, their teeth sharpened against stones thrown at them their whole life. Freddie was the bright canary that went down to the mines each day, who you'd pray to see alive and well, anything to hear them sing again- only to have your heart leap to your throat once that bird collapsed in its cage.\n\nDamn everything to hell if Charlie let that happen.\n\n\"I mean it, and I'm not letting you be alone with this anymore, okay? I'll help you as much as you'll let me, but you have to Promise Me that you won't call yourself stupid anymore. People out there give us enough shit for being ourselves, we don't have to do the same.\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie didn't realise just how much he needed to hear the words until they came.\nYou're not stupid And I'm not mad at you.\n\nHe had a tendency to screw up a lot. Whether that was through launching into things without truly thinking them over, or through sheer unbridled clumsiness, or whether they were truly out of control, one thing could be almost guaranteed when he woke up each morning - something would go wrong at least once that day. He'd gotten used to the sighs, to people shaking their heads and clicking their teeth in irritation. It didn't even register, most of the time, as he cleaned up spilled or broken things and dusted himself off and surged forward. \n\nCharlie didn't do that.\nCharlie spoke of themselves and Freddie as kindred spirits. They understood - more than anyone in Freddie's life had ever even tried to understand. He didn't need to explain himself to them; they weren't asking him to do that, even if he could find the words to. \nTheir hand on his shoulder was light, but warm. They weren't angry. They wanted to stay and to Stick And to help. \n\nFreddie fought to remember the last time someone had offered to help when he messed up.\nHe couldn't really come up with one.\n\nA tear rolled down his cheek, too quick for him to catch it. He watched as it soaked into the fabric of his pants, and his gaze flickered up automatically to see if Charlie had noticed it too. \nInstead of the judgemental looks he'd come to expect when he cried, he only saw matching tears, albeit unshed, shining in their eyes. \n\nAnd he couldn't help himself, sliding off of the barstool and taking a half-step toward them, wrapping his arms around their middle (but gently, so gently, they were injured, he couldn't squeeze too tight) and pressing his cheek into their shoulder. \n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\nA shuddering breath forced its way past his lips. \n\n\"And I promise. No more given' myself shit over things that are outta my control? I promise.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Charlie Marsh", "message": "Despite their short span of having to share extremely close quarters with another (albeit beloved) person, Charlie hadn't gotten used to physical intimacy. They'd shared hugs with their sisters back home but after a year of rough traveling, the gesture brings them pause. At that moment, their good hand flexed at their side, eyes widening as the younger man curled his arms around their middle.\n\n\"You don't have to be sorry, Freddie.\" They croaked and slowly reached their hand up to pat his back. \"Just be kinder to yourself, alright?.\"\n\nCharlie had to take a few deep breaths to deny their tears any possible chance of escape, but it left a horrible burning feeling in their chest. They wouldn't, couldn't cry there- every experience with their sisters screamed at them to be strong, to be the rock that Freddie could cling to.\n\n\"You're okay, bud. Just... Breathe.\"" }, { "author": "Freddie Lovejoy", "message": "Freddie could be kinder to himself. If that was all Charlie asked, he could do it. It was something he often forgot, too determined to be kind to others to remember to preserve a little of that respect for himself. It had been too long since he'd last heard another voice tell him to do it. But following their request would be the least he could do, for the time being. \n\nHe pulled away from the hug as quickly as he'd launched into it, but not without taking one final deep breath there. He wasn't alone. Not in Briar Ridge and not in... This, the tumultuous relationship shared between his physical form and what lay in his heart. There was Charlie, and perhaps there were others, too, others he hadn't met yet but would find his way to in due course. \n\nHe turned back to the bar-top, and drained the rest of the 'shine from his glass. \"I oughta be goin', I think. Got plenty ta' be gettin' home to... And a weight to take off my chest.\" Merely a flash of a cheeky grin, and he ran a hand through his hair before extending it out for Charlie to shake. \"I'll be seein' you again though, don't doubt it. Was good to meet ya, Charlie.\"\n\n\|\|" } ]	356	6,800
279	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Ike felt terrible.\n\nNo. More than terrible. Feeling terrible implied that he was incorrect. Ike knew in his soul, in every fibre of his very being, that he was a Monster. Whether he liked it or not he was a monster.\n\nIke Horowitz was going to Hell.\n\nThe worst part was that Ike deserved it. He knew that. God didn't judge sins by severity, or intent, or amount. One sin was just as bad as a thousand sins, and Ike Horowitz had killed someone during the last full moon. Murder.\n\nThe First Commandment was `'Thou Shalt Not Kill'`. Ike couldn't say that he had followed that. He stumbled on God's very first instruction. For that he was going to burn.\n\n\"Can I-\" Ike put a hand to his chest and paused to let a wave of nausea pass. \"-get another?\"\n\nIke pushed his glass to the bartender, and watched as he poured another glass of alcohol. Another sin to add to the tally. Why not? Ike knew that He would forgive drinking alcohol, but He would not forgive murder. So why not drink until he couldn't remember the horrors?\n\nIf anything, Ike deserved this. The brief respite that alcohol gave, however pained his chest still felt from guilt. Once his drink was handed over, Ike paid for it and gave a little extra.\n\n\"Take it. It's yours,\" Ike said, \"Buy something nice... For your loved ones.\"\n\nAny you may have left, after the rampage.\n\nIke took a big gulp of his drink, and tensed up in his seat. He groaned, and shook his head. The alcohol burned going down, but once it got to his stomach Ike got a rush. A warming feeling that made him feel just a little better.\n\nThis. This good feeling. This brief happiness. This is what Ike knows he does not deserve." }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "The moon was over, and everything was different now. JD had been more scared before of one of his loved ones turning into a werewolf and getting killed for being one, now he knew more than ever that he had to worry more about them dying at the hands of a werewolf. \n\nAddie had been someone that over the years he had learned to love like a sister. When the news came, he didn't even know what to think, how to think and he hoped to God it was another one of his nightmares but it wasn't. It was all so real. \n\nHe had spent his time with Dallas, trying his best to comfort him, but neither of the men were good with that kind of thing, so eventually when giving Dallas time alone to grieve the first thought he had was he needed a drink, or two, or three, or more. \n\nSo he headed to the place that was becoming more and more his favorite place to be, the speakeasy, and had been downing drinks. On his fourth drink, he looked over at the man next to him, and he could tell that he was upset too,. The moon must have been bad to him too. \n\nHe wasn't much one for talking, but he cleared his throat. \"Rough night?\" He asked looking at the other as he took a sip of his shine, his speech slightly slurred from the alcohol he had already chugged down so far, he was sure tis would not be his last drink of the night." }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Ike looked up at the man next to him. He didn't like idle chatter, even at the best of times, but alcohol loosened him up. Just as it did anyone.\n\nAt least that, somehow, was a silver lining. The fact that Alcohol changed him. Socially lubricated his brain. He was still human... If only halfway.\n\n\"Yes.\" Ike replied. It came out as more of a pronounced grunt, but the essence of a 'yes' was present. \"I s'pose it is. The... Full moon was not kind to anyone.\"\n\nIke had heard of the wounded. The sick. Among them was someone that he met, if only briefly. Someone he knew because of how much she meant to Owen... That was the thing that really tore him up inside. Ike had no idea what he did, or if he even committed any act of atrocity... But the chance was there.\n\n\"W'bout you?\" Ike asked. He looked over to JD. \"M'name is Ike, by th'way.\"" }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "He nodded, \"Never is.\" He said as he looked down at his drink, taking a small sip. \"Worst time of the month.. Every month.. Can't imagine.. It's only gonna get worse from here.\" He said, his words seeming jumbled, it was clear that beyond the obvious drunkness that JD was not quite all there. \n\n\"My friend died..\" He said quietly when the other asked him, \"So it's a rough night, yeah.\" He said as he looked over at him, and held out his hand to shake the others. \n\n\"JD.. My name is JD..\" He said as he looked at him and studied him for a moment. \"Yer the one that works with all them dead people yeah? You get them ready to be buried?\" He asked arching a brow. \n\nHe looked as if he was studying him, \"That hard? I mean.. Havin' ta see people like that?\" He supposed it was the drink making him talk, or maybe he just didn't want too much time to think." }, { "author": "Ike Horowitz", "message": "Ike took in a breath when JD mentioned his friends untimely death. That's what it was. __Untimely__. They would always be considered 'taken before their time' when it was a Monster That took them. Ike sipped his drink, eyes downcast though his attention was otherwise still on JD.\n\nWhen the topic of his job came up, Ike finally looked up at JD's eyes.\n\n\"No.\" Ike shook his head. \"I like it. Not cus'a the dead people, but cus'a the things I can learn from 'em... Helps other people.\"\n\nIke shrugged. He took a long sip of his drink. He thought of Owen again, which wasn't entirely uncommon these days. Isaac Horowitz thought of Owen often, but prior to the latest full moon he used to think fondly of the man. Now? Now, Ike only thought of one thing.\n\n\"Someone I know has a mom tha'was hurt... Owen. Y'know'im?\" Ike's words were slurring, but the words came out so much easier than usual. JD seemed nice, and they shared in their grief... At the very least, maybe it would make JD feel better." }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "He nodded as the other spoke about his job, and he listened, looking down at his drink and taking a few sips as he spoke. He supposed it made sense, JD wouldn't like that job he didn't think. He didn't handle stuff like that well, but he could see how it would make you feel like you were helping people. \n\n\"That's nice.. I'm glad we got someone who cares takin' care of our dead.\" He said with slurred speech. \"You be sure to take good care of Addie Sinclair.. She was a real special lady.\" He said running a hand through his hair. \n\nAt the question, he paused and she shook his head. \"I don't know mucha anyone really.. I got only a couple friends in my time here..\" He said with a sigh. \"But I ain't mind it like that.\" He said as he tapped his finger on the bar for a moment. \n\n\"You know I was one of them people who spoke up in favor of the werewolves.. I killed that first one. Sheriff Rowe, I killed him and I watched him turn human an' everything.. And I thought to myself.. Who am I, a murderer, to convict another murderer to death?\" He shook his head. \n\n\"But I change my mind now, I say convict them and me along with them if they have to, but people can't keep fuckin' dyin'..\" He paused, \n\n\"You're a real nice man.\"" } ]	274	1,674
338.833333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "At this point. JD had seen his fair share of Algernon around. He knew he was quiet man, and he knew he was a nice man. They both spent their fair share of time at the Speakeasy, a place that JD had been all too frequently lately. \n\nSo for these reasons, he seemed like the perfect partner for a quick match of poker. JD was never much of a gambler but he knew how to play and he enjoyed a good bit of conversation, so what could be the harm? Not like he wasn't already participating in illegal activities, seeing as where he was to begin with. \n\nHe moved his chair closer and grabbed the deck, which he dealt out to the both of them silently, before taking in a deep breath and a sip of his drink. \n\nHe didn't look at his cards, yet, instead looking across to the other man with crossed arms. \"Well..\" He said as he took in another breath, and let it out slowly. \n\n\"We bettin' with money or otherwise?\" He asked as he reached for his wallet, to take a peak at exactly what he had. \"Is it still illegal if you ain't bet with money?\" He asked, furrowing his brows, figuring that given the other's experience, he might know." }, { "author": "Algernon Granville", "message": "Most of Algernon's nights were spent in the barn nowadays. He'd nowhere else to go, no commitments to keep him busy once the sun was set, and so he would find himself here, strikin' up a conversation with anyone who'd have him, sippin' on Cooper shine, smokin' if he had the means to. \nHe'd settled himself in a corner with a glass and a cigar tonight, and when JD Monroe had slid into the chair opposite and produced a pack of playin'-cards, a smile had come to him. It had been a while since he'd considered himself a bettin' man, but things could always change. Things were always a-changin' in this town, and he'd be a liar if he said his fingers didn't itch for a game. \n\nHis own wallet was lighter than he'd have liked it to be, but confident as he was that he could best JD in a round or two, he'd no desire to go takin' the man's money. \n\"If legal's what you're lookin' for, I ain't think you'd be startin' your search here in this town,\" He pointed out smoothly, smoke escapin' from the corner of his mouth as he talked. He spun the cigar in his fingers, a slow and calculated movement as he considered the contents of his pockets. \"I ain't in the business'a rinsin' a man of his hard-earned coins, so I say you place your bet with whatever you got that you ain't mind losin'.\"\n\nFrom somewhere in the folds of his cloak, he produced two things to make up a bet of his own, and placed them in the middle of the table: a fish-shaped ornamental somethin' carved by his own hand from a deer-bone, and a rabbit's-foot. \n\"Lucky, so they say,\" He explained, gesturin' to the latter. \"And if you wins it from me then the luck of it's a better prize'n any money could buy.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "He shrugged his shoulders, \"Ya make a real goo point there..\" He said with a small smile as he tapped his finger on the table a couple of times. It was a good point, especialy with where they sat now. \"Spose' it's more curiosity than real concern..\" He said as he raked a hand through his hair. \n\nHe thought fo a moment as he tried to think of what was being bet, and looked down at the table. The fish carving was especially interesting to him, and he reached out to touch it. \"That's real cool.. I love fishin'.. I'd say that's better than money any day..\" He said as he took a deep breath. \n\nHe dug around in his pockets until he produced a pocket knife, and nodded. \"I got that an' a real nice fish back at my house, I could get it if ya win.. I caught it yesterday so it's real fresh, real big and it's all ready to cook an' what not..\" \n\nHe nodded, \"I'm more than happy with the bets if you are..\" He said clearing his throat. \"Gotta say I'm real motivated now, by yer bets.. So I'll be playin' extra careful..\" He said with a small smile. He nodded and picked up his cards, and looked over them before glancing at the other to see if he had any reaction to his own cards." }, { "author": "Algernon Granville", "message": "\"A touch'a curiosity never hurt a man so far as I'm aware. You're damned right ta be a curious fellow, Mr Monroe. Makes me wonder what else you might be feelin' curious about.\" Algernon's head tilted to the side, regardin' JD with what could only truly be seen as approval, and then, at the compliment to his handiwork, a note of pride. \"Made by my own hand jus' the other day. Ain't nothin', really, but if you likes it, makes it a good bet far as I'm concerned. I'm not so much a fisherman myself, but they been sayin' it's never too late to teach an old dog a new trick or too. Ain't no dog in this town older'n I, an' I'm bein' taught newness all the time.\"\n\nJD offered his bet, and Algernon nodded. \"Been a while since I had me some good fresh fish. You an' I's about to become real good friends, I say, cards be damned. You're on.\"\n\nThe hand was dealt, and Algernon's slight smile settled into a more neutral expression, a game face, as he looked over the tops of his cards at his opponent. He took a sip from his glass, and ashed his cigar off to the side. \"Can call the first couple'a rounds practice if you like. Been a while since I played proper, got some dust'n webs to blow off. Seems few men in these parts up for a game these days - not that I blame 'em. Plenty else to worry about outside these here walls.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "JD Monroe", "message": "He shrugged his shoulders as the other spoke, \"I'm real curious about alotta stuff..\" He said with a nod. \"I ain't know a whole lotta 'bout the world.. So I tend ta' got a lotta questions sometimes..\" He said as he glanced down at the fish again and shook his head. \n\n\"That ain't nothin'.. It's real impressive.. I ain't know how ta' do it.. I haven't seen much cooler than that.. Make a real good lucky item for fishin'..\" He said and took a pause, \"I'll tell ya right now that if ya ever wanna learn I'd be more than happy ta' teach ya.. Always a good thing ta' belearnin' somethin' new.. And learnin' ta' fish is real useful.. You know what they say.. They say give a man a fish.. He eats for a day, teach a man ta' fish..\" He paused, \"He eats forever..? Somethin' like that..\" He said as he looked down at his cards. \n\nAt the suggestion they would become friends, a smile spread over his face and he nodded. \"I hope so.. I ain't got many a' those..\" He said as he took a few more glances up to try and get a good feel on the other's cards, but to little avail, his poker face was real good. \n\nHe nodded, \"That's be good with me.. I ain't really played a whole lot honesly..\" He said as he glanced down at his again. \"I know the rules but... I ain't played in a minute.\" He said as he rearranged his cards a bit. \"I understand it though.. I mean ain't the best time for games I suppose.. But sometimes ya' just gotta get yer mind somewhere else..\"" }, { "author": "Algernon Granville", "message": "JD spoke of luck, as Algernon had when bringin' up the rabbits-foot, and Algernon smiled. \"Well, if there's anythin' folks in this town be needin' these days, it's a bit'a luck. Be happy to share it with ya - if ya fancied teachin' me fishin' sometime, I'm sure I could find some teachin' in me too. Ain't so hard to make a little creature outta wood or bone once you get the hang'a the blade, an' if you's a fisherman already I'm sure you knows your way 'round one'a those. I kin do all sorts if I got the time ta sit down with it. You'd take to it, alls it takes is puttin' your mind to it.\"\n\nHe liked JD, he decided in that moment. And he truly hoped they did get the chance to become friends, though he knew little of the man beyond what he'd just been told and his killin' of the werewolf at the ruins all those months ago. Perhaps they'd find more in common, given time. \n\n\"No need ta get in your head 'bout it. Only a game, after all. Not somethin' ta worry about. Got enough to worry about outside these walls, as you say,\" He pointed out, taking a sip from his drink. \"Where's that mind'a yours at lately, JD? If you got somethin' troublin' ya, sometimes it helps ta get all'a that out in the open. I been a good listener to a fair few folks 'round these parts.\"\n\n\|\|" } ]	338	2,033
816.866667	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "Note: This is a continuation of: \n\nThe walk back to town wasn't too terribly bad. Alma only slipped on a patch of wet leaves once, so she counted that as a win in her book. The real tragedy was how Dog had gotten his tree branch stuck between a boulder and the trunk of an old dogwood. He whined pitifully, but eventually gave up on his treasure to sprint off ahead of Rhett and Alma as if he were scouting out the path. How gracious of him. \n\nThey made it back in time for them to catch the last rays of sunset casting its dim glow over the holler. The temperature was plummeting, but their brisk pace had kept Alma from minding the cold too terribly much. Plus, she was happy to be soaking in more time with Rhett. So happy, in fact, that she was reluctant to say goodbye. She knew full well that she'd offered to make him some warm cider and the thought certainly had not left her mind, but that meant they'd have to go back to familiar territory. Frankly, Alma wasn't ready to be stifled by normalcy yet. \n\nThankfully, Alma's ears caught the first notes of Something. A new plan was hatched. \n\n\"Wait! Do you hear that?\" Alma stopped walking right in the middle of the road. With the way the leaves had been crunching under her boots, she hadn't quite been able to pinpoint what she'd picked up. In the quiet, though, she caught the picking of a guitar. Fast and spirited and joyful. It was coming from over the crest of that hill. \n\nAlma turned back to Rhett wearing a bright grin. \"I think there's a band pickin' up at the Ol' Davis Barn!\" When she turned to listen again, she swore she could hear a fiddle joining in.\n\n_\n_ \"Oh, Rhett! There must be,\" She chirped as she spun round a third time and excitedly grabbed hold of the cuff of his flannel jacket. Eager as she was, she wasn't brazen enough to go for his hand. \"Whaddya say to us goin' and seein' the band, huh? Be nice to see the barn as its meant to be! Plus, Mama mentioned she dropped off a couple crates of 'shine a few days ago. I'd wager there's still some left if we're lucky!\"" }, { "author": "RHETT TERLIng", "message": "``` CONTENT WARNING: ALCOHOLISM.```\n\nRhett would've kept wrestling with Dog as long as Alma kept on laughing, but true to her tendencies towards organization, she beckoned the pair out of their squabble. He looked up to her, breathless, to make sure her expression hadn't soured towards truly annoyed, but good humor kept her in motion. \n\n\"Awright, Dog. You win this time, but just 'cause your mama called a truce.\" He narrowed his eyes down at the Bloodhound with a lighthearted threat of competition before catching up to Alma on the path. \n\nThey passed the time talking, Rhett telling funny stories about Spider, and asking Alma's advice on what should join Maeve's novel on his bookshelf. He was slowly but surely reading through it, and he had a lot of vocabulary to run by Alma. The way she easily corrected him and graciously offered alternate explanations to his synthesis of the written word was embarrassing at times, but wholly appreciated. He found himself wishing he'd had a teacher like her back in school; maybe he would have been a smarter man for it. No– he Knew* He'd have been a smarter man. His teachers then had seen him struggle, winced at his slow progress, and encouraged him to work with his hands instead of his mind. \n\nThe outlines of buildings at the town's edge were a happy sight. While the dark sometimes just meant an absence of sun, you never knew when it would reveal something sinister. Rhett's recent series of hauntings connected to his failure at the coal mine had so far taken place mostly in his own home, but whatever had followed him back from S&C sometimes grew confident and accompanied him outside of his walls. \n_ _\n\nThe threat of it had nearly caused him to reschedule today's events with Alma, but living in fear was no way to live. He took confidence that the sun would protect them, and it had so far. Besides, he had confided in her about the suspected haint: told her about what'd happened at the lumberyard with him and Dallas, and about all the times he and Spider woke up to the smell of smoke in the shack. She knew he had a bad shadow and still kept him close by. \n\nHe was looking forward to that continued closeness and a cup of cider, but before he could settle into the plan, it seemed that Alma caught the scent of something on the breeze. Live music! The idea was grand, and seeing the Barn outside of its typical station Would Be lovely. She'd sold him, until she mentioned shine, and Rhett hoped she wouldn't catch how he'd stiffened. \n\nHim and liquor had a pretty unfriendly relationship. He'd been 18 when prohibition began, and at the time he was glad for it. What booze had done to his ma, his pa: he knew it'd played a role in how they'd fractured away, bit by bit. His aunts always clucked about the evils of alcohol, and he'd agreed up until one night in Baltimore when Constance pressed a glass of bourbon to his lips. The smell burned his nose, but he'd never told her no before, and so he drank. \n\nRhett had never felt such relief. Parts of him went silent that he hadn't known were even speaking up. Instead of roving far and wide outside of himself, his attention focused inward, a quieting finger pressed to the lips of his overactive empathy. There was stillness. There was peace. From ages 20 through 25, he had a drink every night, but it never stopped at one. He drank to remember why he stayed with Connie. He drank to forget what he'd done for her. He drank to find himself, but the drink got him gone, further and further from the places he even knew to be searching. He drank for being lost.\n_ _\n\nRhett got used to the glass of his tired eyes, and the shake of his hands when the sun went down. His priorities included keeping his flask full and finding a fix within hours of dropping anchor in a new town. \n\nGetting clean in Cleveland, working at the machine shop, was the closest to death he'd ever felt. Wracked by tremors, headaches that near split him in half, and hallucinations from the sudden withdrawal, there were so many times he scrambled back to the bottle. He was lucky he had folks there looking out for him: strangers who somehow saw the good in his bloodshot eyes, and stayed with him at night when his urges overtook him. They kept him distracted while someone else unlaced his boots as he stopped to shift the deadbolt on the door. It had been almost two years since he'd left that shared house, and still he felt like crying when he thought about how he hadn't said goodbye to the people there who'd saved his life.\n\nThese were things he had not told Alma. She knew the broad outlines of his time away from town, but it terrified him to share the ugliest parts of himself with her. The only reason the shame of his past stayed buried like it did was that Rhett Knew He was good. Constance had been a crutch, easily within reach of a young boy who was desperate for an identity. It had taken him losing himself completely to finally forge one all his own, separate from the image of her. In that way, he supposed he could thank her, but there was far more to blame her for. \n\nRhett had fought his way back to Briar Ridge, and back to a second chance despite his first love. As a reward, Alma had shown up at his door with redemption on offer. What a fool he would be to tell her the sins of his younger self and make her regret giving him all that she had. \n_ _\n\nIt was hard to say how long he'd been silent after Alma's mention of a drink. However great the pause, it was embarrassing, and Rhett reddened. Declining was not an option, especially in the wake of Alma's excitement. He managed a smile, hoping it was convincing, and gave a curt nod. The smile broke into a laugh as Alma caught his sleeve in her fingers. \n\n\"I don't think the 'Ol Davis Barn is ready for Alma Cooper tonight, Shoooot!\" He conceded, allowing himself to be led inside. \n\nThe scene was vibrant, and despite the hovering anxiety of facing an old addiction, Rhett was glad they'd come. Though scenes of werewolves brawling broadcast like ghostly exposures onto the setting before him, seeing the barn so full of joy was pure and good. He'd paused in the doorway to take it all in, the flicker of the lanterns casting a honey-sweet, amber glow over the festivities. Alma's dark eyes were practically quicksilver as they surveyed the celebration, and Rhett was quickly infected by her enthusiasm. He did not pull back his cuff from her grip, choosing instead to release his autonomy to her and wherever she may decide to lead him next. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "Now anybody who'd steeped themselves in the traditions and families of Briar Ridge knew exactly what the Coopers did. Mayor Cooper ran on a platform of economic independence through the sale of moonshine back when the riots were still being published in the daily papers. He'd been determined to keep John Barleycorn alive and well in the rises and valleys of the holler they called home. Ol' Billy Cooper wasn't the type to go and win an election and sit on his laurels, neither. He did the growin' and his wife, Miriam, ran the stills. William was able to be awake in the daylight hours to do his mayorly business and the Cooper women took over in the evening. \n\nAlma included. She knew her way around a still, too, when push came to shove. It was only during summer break that Alma could afford to adjust to a nocturnal schedule. She'd inevitably get bored though and start readin' a book in that old shed on the edge of their property. Her batches never came out as smooth or sweet as her Mama's did. So, Mrs. Cooper typically took up the nightshift with her flask and her shotgun. While her Mama stoked the fires, Alma scheduled their runs, counted inventory, and balanced the books. \n\nAt least, that's how it all happened before a full moon meant safe houses instead of profit. \n\nWith the last ten or so years of her life steeped in moonshine, Alma rarely bothered with the Ol' Davis Barn. If she ever cared for a drink, she'd just walk across their property or have friends over for dinner or host a BBQ. What's more, Alma wasn't usually the type for social gatherings of its magnitude. But, nowadays, Alma was a stranger in her own home. And she didn't know when the last time was that she'd allowed herself to unwind and just have Fun. It had to be back in... June? Back when she'd had that picnic before hell broke loose?\n\nAlma could bear a night of shouting over raucous music for the burn of shine and easy laughter for the first time in almost half a year. Especially if it meant that laughter might come from Rhett. \n\nThe second the old barn doors creaked open, Alma reluctantly let go of Rhett's sleeve. As much as she wanted to slide her grasp down to his palm, that wasn't something friends did. Besides, she was keenly aware of the way gossip could fly in a town of their size. There'd inevitably be whispers about the two of them coming to a place like this together without her holding onto him, but she wagered their joint efforts on The Cage could be leveraged for a believable cover story. She could play this politically. She could keep this under control for as long as it took to get the job done. \n\nStill, she couldn't hide the brightness of her smile as they stepped into the warm, smokey barn. Nor could she help herself from tossing him a look over her shoulder to make sure he was still following before she led them to a table in one of the darker lit corners. In a past life, their table had once been the top of a barrel. From where she perched on her stool, she could get a good view of the band plucking and stringing and stomping away. A dance floor had already been cleared in the middle of the barn. A few drunken patrons were already claiming the space for their own, hootin' and hollerin' and wavin' their hats in time with the music. Alma giggled in delight and had to tear her attention away from them to look up at Rhett. \n\nMaybe it was the long hours they were spending in the barn already to build the cage or maybe it was just the joy she felt at the prospect of having a night of fun, but she was Comfortable. Comfortable enough to cross the barrier of the table to half talk, half shout in Rhett's ear.\n\n\"Would you mind grabbin' me a shot of shine, please? Cooper, naturally.\" Alma made it a point to keep her eyes downcast so she couldn't fret over how close they'd just been, comp\n\nLetely unaware of the inner turmoil he was facing or of the potential anxiety a request like that might cause for him. No, instead she pulled back and started peeling off the layers of her scarf and jacket till she was back in her plain brown dress. It was ugly and prudish compared to the rolled up sleeves and shorter skirts of the women who'd dressed like they wanted to be seen. Alma tried not to be self conscious about it - the shine would fix that soon enough. Still, she smoothed her skirts and crossed her legs the dainty way she'd once seen Maeve do. She couldn't help but think it was a poor imitation of the grace her friend wielded, but She was trying." }, { "author": "RHETT TERLIng", "message": "Rhett wasn't sure how far to fall into the comfortable encompassing sounds of the Ol Davis Barn. Here were his friends, neighbors, and even a few distant cousins peppered in among the crowd, making noise and enjoying each other. The comfort was undeniable, but it existed astride an enemy. His attention shot sideways to the bar. He eased himself with a mental bandage: he wasn't who he used to be. He wouldn't let his vices take hold of him this time. Alma wouldn't let it happen either. \n\nWith his head turned and Alma suddenly leaning close to speak, their faces almost collided as he started to turn to her, the scant distance between them unaccounted for. This triggered an instant full-face blush, blood running hot down his neck and up to his ears to match. He prayed the lantern light was dim enough for Alma not to notice his color. As soon as she'd reared up, she was sat back down, freeing herself from layers of warm clothes. She seemed possessed by the atmosphere which inspired him to relax. He watched her for too long, which didn't help ease the redness in his face. \n\nThe way she'd held his shirt sleeve was still fresh in his mind, now paired with the recent feeling of their cheeks almost brushing. It felt familiar, the tease of closeness. He remembered when he'd first been courting Connie, and how she would find excuses to put a hand on his knee or his chest. (Boy, she'd sure started off sweet.) Perhaps too hopeful of a comparison, he likened Alma's subtle gestures to the same kind of flirting. He was flattered to consider the possibility, but its sheer impossibility soon inspired him to push the thoughts aside. \n_ _\n\n\"A shot a shine, comin' right up.\" Rhett promised, leaving the table with a nervous rap of his knuckles on its top. He worked through the crowd up to the bar. When the server at the counter glanced back at his path and saw who he'd arrived with, she smiled knowingly and disappeared to the shelves below, coming up with a small mason jar filled with clear liquid along with two small glasses. \n\n\"Tell Miss Cooper this last batch was a thing of beauty.\" The server winked, and Rhett nodded, his mouth dry, barely managing a smile. He took the glasses in one hand and the jar in the other, worming back to his and Alma's table. Standing as he unscrewed the lid and placed it down, he slowly shifted his weight from foot to foot, vaguely in time with the music. He slid a glass towards Alma and filled it before pouring one himself. \n\n\"The barkeep sends her compliments.\" He smiled, a little easier this time, though the smell of the liquor had his heart pounding. The more anxious he became, the quicker he wanted to get the shot past his lips, just to know its effects: to know what it'd do to him. He met Alma's eyes, in awe of the way her hair fought to free itself from her bun. Rhett was rooting for it– he admired her wild hair, especially when it tumbled loose and free over her shoulders. \n\nHe raised his glass to her. \n\n\"To good, honest gun slingin'.\" The shine barely burned on the way down, and Rhett had to agree with the bartender. He closed his eyes reflexively, tracing the liquid's path down his throat to his gut. He swore he felt warmer already. That wasn't so bad, now was it?\n_ _" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "If there was one thing Alma was good at, it was focusing. And she was focusing with all her might on everything but Rhett. She couldn't acknowledge how close they'd just been, so her hands searched for Anything To serve as a distraction. Folding her scarf. Draping her jacket over the back of her chair. Adjusting her skirts. Smoothing her hair into something respectable without tearing it down completely. She'd been so focused on keeping her mind elsewhere that it took the movement of Rhett's knuckles knocking against the table for her to look up. She only just barely caught Rhett's face as he left the table. \n\nRed. She blinked, her hands frozen in place. Her eyes darted down to his neck and Confirmed What she thought she'd only imagined. Was Rhett... Blushing? \n\nOver what? \n\nAlma spun in her seat. Maybe one of the girls with their painted lips and gentle curls had caught his eye? But the only ones nearby were off on the dancefloor, seemingly far too enraptured by their partners to have shot Rhett a look. What about the bartender? Maybe the server? With how loud the music was, she couldn't catch any of the server and Rhett's conversation, but she did catch the way she winked at him. \n\nOh.\n\nThat had to be it. Suddenly, she found that she didn't care quite so much how she looked. Her chest felt oddly... Heavy. It was stupid of her. There was no need for her to feel envious. She and Rhett were just friends. God knew she was repeating that sentence often enough for it to be burned into her memory. But why did she always do this to herself? It was so painfully rare that she met somebody who truly captured her attention. She could probably count the times it had happened on the fingers of one hand. Her mama was always eager to remind Alma that she was too damn picky, but Alma didn't think it was that at all. She just... Took time. More time than most were ever willing to wait. She didn't do well with random suitors. They did nothing but make her worry about how she could politely tell them that she wasn't interested without hearing about it for the next hour from her Mama.\n\nBut, when she got to know somebody? Really get to know somebody? \n\nShit. \n\nAlma needed to leave before Rhett— But he was already walking back! Alma prayed the dark shadows hid the panic scrawled across her face. She pretended to get distracted by her, uh, boot! It was suddenly and tragically too loose for her taste. Her fingers shook as undid the ~~perfectly fine~~ bow and tightened the laces. By the time she was looking back up at him, a strained smile was painted on her lips instead. \n\n\"The barkeep sends her compliments.\" \n\nRhett was smiling at her. Her heart skipped a beat. Traitor. She swallowed hard and told herself not to ruin Rhett's good mood with her foolishness. \"Oh, really? I'll have to let Mama know!\" She dove for the alcohol - perhaps a little Too quickly - but (thankfully) slowed herself when she realized Rhett was toasting. She tried not to look at the way the shine inside her cup quivered as she raised her hand too.\n\n\"To gun slingin',\" She just barely choked out. The shot went down far smoother than she remembered. \"Mm!\" Her eyes wide for just a moment and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. \"The barkeep was right! Mama really did outdo herself with this one!\" That seemed to shake the jitters right out of her as she licked her lips. \"Mama must've used that batch of honey she got from Mr.—\n\n\"Oh, sorry!\" Alma shook herself out of her train of thought as quick as it came. \"We ain't here for me to think about business. I shouldn't be— I— Sorry.\" Alma's hands were everywhere as she tried to regain control of herself. She finally settled on putting the shot glass down and sitting on her hands so she would stop Fidgeting. \n\nTo punctuate Alma's panic, the band had switched gears to somethin' the gathering crowd was right riled up about. The tables surrounding Rhett and Alma were abandoned as a song Alma'd never heard started up. The fiddler went stampin' their boot hard and fast against the wooden pallets in a near frantic beat that whipped the dancers into a tizzy. Skirts went spinning as dust started to get kicked up. \n\nAnd it was little surprise to Alma that some pretty little red haired lady plucked up the courage to ask Rhett for a dance. She tapped his shoulder to try and catch his attention over the music and her freckles in combination with her pretty red lipstick made her smile somethin' to behold. Oh. Again, Alma pretended to get distracted. Her boot trick already wasted, she just looked down at her hands and waited. \n\nBecause that's what friends did." }, { "author": "RHETT TERLIng", "message": "It didn't help Rhett's squirming internal conflict that the shine went down so Damn Smooth. It didn't help that he already wanted another. It didn't help that the first shot was shaking hands with the warmth in his belly like an old friend. He set his glass down. He studied it and its emptiness. \n\nAlma's delighted surprise perked him up and his face lit in a grin as she licked her lips. He was glad she had confidence in her family's product. She went on to discuss the process, and he hung on her words. She rarely talked about life at the still. When she stopped herself, he grew puzzled, now noticing how her nervous movements paired with the self-conscious metering of her speech. \n\nIf we ain't here for that, what are we here for, Alma? He wanted to ask, that dastardly liquor already affecting his confidence! His mouth opened to form some semblance of the question when the tap came at his shoulder. \n\nRhett was taken aback by the question, as if entirely staggered by the fact that another woman besides Alma Cooper walked the face of this earth. The girl who approached him was pretty. Real pretty, in fact. But was she smart as a whip, too, and brave as an angry bull? Was she kinder than a summer breeze, patient as a saint? Could she bake a mean blackberry pie? Lipstick and freckles couldn't tell a man all he needed to know. \n_ _\n\n\"That's mighty kind, ma'am.\" He muttered to the young woman, barely meeting her eyes. He shuffled just so, almost imperceptibly, closer to Alma, \"But, I'm sure you'll find a partner somewhere's else.\" There was no blush at his neck. There was barely even a smile. Mildly offended, the girl turned heel and left, a close clutch of her friends pretended not to have been watching as Rhett glanced forward along her path of retreat. \n\nHe took a moment to steady himself, wondering what he'd see in Alma's face when he spun around. He turned, and losing his confidence to look at her at the last moment, brought his attention instead to their empty glasses. He cleared his throat quietly as he poured, unhinging his jaw to say the first thing that came to mind. \n\n\"Do ya like to dance, Alma?\" Fuck. Even though it wasn't an invitation explicitly, it still felt too forward. Anyhow, it was out and lingering in the air, and Rhett had to claim it. \n\"I mean. When you hear music, you know. Does it make you wanna... Move?\" This time he sheepishly glanced at his company, bringing the shine up to sip at it. Was that clarification really any better? Rhett could feel his face getting hot again.\n_ _" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "With how furiously the band was playing and how the dancers were carrying on, Alma couldn't quite catch Rhett's words. Just a few clips of words like Kind, partner, And Else. It was enough for Alma to lift her head and strain to hear what they were saying, but there was nothing else to catch. The girl was leaving and Rhett was staring after her. When he turned around, he didn't look her in the eye. His expression was unreadable and her mind raced to fill in the gaps. \n\nRelief had crashed over her stronger than she wished it would. The shine hadn't hit her system quite yet, so there was no neat way for her to blame it on something external. Her mind scraped and scratched at any reasoning it could come up with, even if it didn't entirely hold water. She ultimately landed on Rhett's denial only being a reflection of his polite upbringing. He wasn't going to leave Alma alone. He was a gentleman. There'd been plenty of nights where Alma had looked up to realize it was dark out, and Rhett would always offer to see her safely back home. Didn't matter if it was rainin' or freezin' cold. He'd walk with her every step of the way, helping her pass the time with quiet conversation and gentle laughter. Now that the walk was no longer a mile or so but just a few minutes to his aunts' front door, Alma would sometimes find herself reluctant to head inside. But she knew Bonnie and Linda were undoubtedly listening in on their conversations, so she took care to always bid him a chaste 'good night'. \n\nThat's all Rhett was doing now. Keeping an eye on her even in a space where all she saw was familiar faces. Even if he'd wanted to say yes. \n\nAlma needed another shot.\n\nRhett seemed to already have that in mind. She murmured a quiet thank you for his pouring and took care not to down this one in a single go - though the temptation was certainly there. When Rhett asked her if she like to dance, she tragically had a bit of shine go down the wrong pipe. She coughed and quickly turned away from him, trying to hide the fact that it was Her turn to blush. It was certainly not the moonshine this time either. Panic flooded her chest again and her eyes swept quick over to the dancers. Was he... Really inviting her to dance? Her? He wanted her???— Oh.\n\nThe clarification he followed up with soothed her fears some, but her heart still pounded at the mere prospect. Mainly because, \"I-I don't really, no.\" Not the stutter again! Shit! \"I-I mean, it makes me wanna move, sure, a-and it looks fun! But I... Actually cain't dance.\" Alma kept her eyes glued to her cup as she made that confession. Her cheeks were burning hot. She'd already removed her outer layers, but the air felt suffocatingly hot. \"I, um, I tried! Or, rather, my Papa tried to teach me when I was littler. He's always been good at stuff like that. He's actually really good at dancin' and played the guitar for my Mama all the time back before the war... But I just never really got the hang of it.\" \n\nHer earlier goal of holding onto this shot was forgotten and she knocked it back the same as the first. It gave her the courage to dare a glance at Rhett to gauge his reaction. It had been Her Idea, after all, to come to the barn and see the band. It was silly of her to offer something like that and Not Be able to join the dance floor, wasn't it? \n\n\"B-But, I mean, i-if you like to dance, then,\" She hesitated. The shots were starting to kick in. She needed to choose her wording carefully. \"Then don't let me stop you from havin' fun. I promise I'm alright just listenin' to the band! I want you to have fun.\"" }, { "author": "RHETT TERLIng", "message": "Rhett was eager to get a second shot of shine back, but he followed Alma's lead in sipping, going a bit wide-eyed as one sip of hers landed wrong. He looked away while she coughed, an involuntarily impish smile crossing over him. Wasn't this obvious, what they were doing? Wasn't it obvious how they already danced, stepping on each others' toes in their attempts at grace? It was funny to him, but maybe that was just the moonshine laughing. \n\nHis mood had turned completely. From apprehensive to weightless, Rhett didn't want to keep it a secret how Good He felt and how pleased he was in present company. \n\n\"Cain't dance?\" He parroted suddenly, shaking his head in good-humored disbelief, \"There's no person on earth that ain't know how to dance. God builds it inta each one of us, whether we like it or not. 'Least, that's what Gramma Alice always told me.\" The sudden diatribe caught him off guard, but so had Alma's admission. The thought of someone wanting to dance but feeling held back from it just made him sad, and had apparently inspired him to preach.\n\nShe looked at him after she tipped back her drink and he stilled to catch her eye, hesitating for a comedic pause before he followed suit, making it clear that he took permission from her to shoot down the rest of his drink. He winced, coughed, and let his eyes fall. He began to spin the glass slowly on the table top, his rough hands oddly delicate as they maneuvered it in circles. \n\n\"I do like to dance,\" He returned carefully, trying desperately to keep a grin from overtaking his features, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult as he imagined his hand at Alma's waist, \"I dunno. I'd feel awful silly out there without ya.\" He shrugged, his pale eyelashes fanned bashfully downward. \n_ _\n\n\"Say, what was that barkeep tryin' ta do to us, givin' us this whole jar?\" Rhett reached for it, now just a little over half full, and nudged it fractionally towards the woman across the table, \"Wha'dya say, Alma Cooper? Reckon she was hopin' ta see you out on those pallets?\" \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "\"Cain't dance?\" \n\nAlma stiffened up for a moment as if she half expected him to tease her about it, but all she found instead was a rough kind of encouragement she wasn't entirely ready for. In Alma's experience, Rhett was always ready to see the other side of somethin'. He wasn't wishy washy per se, but it was rare that he got good and passionate. Alma felt strangely like she'd just been let in on a secret, even if it was somethin' as silly and simple as the ability to dance. Maybe that's why Alma looked up at him as if he'd hung a new star in the sky just for her. \n\nWhen he seemed to take her cue to finish his own shot, Alma laughed. It was quick and quiet and she hid it behind the back of her hand like it was a secret, too. Like she wasn't quite sure if she was permitted to feel as good as she did when he smiled at her like that. \n\nEven scarier, still, was how ready she was to tell him 'yes'. She'd embarrass herself in front of the whole town if it kept him smilin'. She'd blame it on the moonshine she was reachin' for, but her fingers found the warmth of Rhett's knuckles instead of cold glass. She yanked her hand back quick and tucked a quick 'sorry' behind an awkward giggle, but the damage was already done. Her cheeks were gettin' bright and red again. She went to fold her hands into her lap as if that might keep them from betraying her, but Rhett was nudging the jar towards her. Alma cautiously took hold of it - taking the utmost care Not To touch him again - and shakily poured them a third round of shots.\n\n_ _ \n\"W-Well, I suppose I... Wouldn't want you to feel silly,\" Alma eked out, her voice just barely able to be heard over the music as the frantic song came to an end. The dancers were cheering and applauding and drowning out what little courage Alma had summoned. Her mouth opened up like she wanted to say something more, but she swallowed it back down. Her eyes darted up to Rhett's and lingered. Inhibitions lowered thanks to the glass pressed between her fingers, her gaze ran the course she only ever dared when he was looking away. Starting from his brows to trace the line of his nose down to the gentle bend of his lips and the cut of his jaw. She knew she should look away even as the tables around them were slowly filled back up with breathless dancers, but his happiness held her captive. \n\n\"I reckon she don't remember the last time I got out on them pallets, then,\" She retorted when she finally broke herself from her trance. \"I just about broke a girl's nose. It must'a been... Oh, five or so years ago? I was just barely drunk n' stupid enough to say yes to a perfect stranger. He tried to spin me n' I just kept goin'! Right into the poor couple beside us.\" She laughed at the memory and hid her face as if the old embarrassment was rushing back. \"My elbow hit her nose n' it was So red, Rhett. I thought I'd really gone'n broke it! So, either she's new, or she's had too much'a my Mama's 'shine.\" She kept laughing right through that last sentence - Oh, laughing like that meant she was tipsy, wasn't she? - and raised the glass to her lips. \n\n\"Now, I s'ppose I wouldn't mind tryin' again so's long as I've got someone who kin catch me proper. I'd just really prefer not to get kicked out of this place!\"" }, { "author": "RHETT TERLIng", "message": "How that giggle of Alma's rivaled even the meanest fiddle player in the valley. She pulled away from his hand around the shine jar and he couldn't take his eyes off of her, her face all scrunched in embarrassment and laughter. Was that a blush he saw spreading? He finally looked away as she poured them their third round, taking a moment inward to worry over the amount of alcohol in his system. Again, he pushed his worries down. He was with Alma. She wouldn't let harm come his way, from his own hand or otherwise. \n\nRhett had to lean forward across the table a bit to hear her, watching her lips to make sure he caught all of what she was saying. Was she agreeing to a dance? A hypothetical dance? He grinned, and was still grinning when she pinned him with her gaze. She was looking at him— Really Looking— and he liked it. Paired with her coy grazing of his knuckles, surely she was mounting these simple touches and intimate moments on purpose. Surely this was her inviting him closer! Despite the disbelief that addled him still, the fact that Alma Cooper might be returning his crush on her sent his heart into his throat. Admitting To himself that he had a crush on Alma Cooper was alone enough to hitch his breathing, but there it was. \n\nAs Alma told her story, it was his turn to look at her, her bright, smart eyes widening and crinkling with the turns of the tale. He could still feel the ghost of her hand brush his.\n\nRhett whistled low as she devolved to laughter, both sounds almost completely lost to the din of the barn, \"What I'd'a done ta see all that.\" He shook his head, finally looking down to his refilled glass as Alma took up her own again. It was Rhett's turn to choke on his moonshine, though he managed to recover before he made a spectacle. Could He Be the one to catch her proper? Such a bold line both intimidated and excited him— but why be intimidated when he had a belly full of liquor? He Could Be the one to catch her, god damnit! \n_ _\n\nAfter a brief break, the band was back up, the dancers fanning themselves and whooping as they flooded the floor again. Seeing their kicking heels and clasped hands, Rhett Sterling was a man possessed. This time, he led the charge of knocking back the third shot, hoping to catch Alma's eye before the shine passed his lips. He set the glass down with more force than he meant to, and turned to watch the band a moment as he gathered courage for his next move. When he was bolstered, he turned sharply and fixed his peevish sights on Alma, holding out his hand to her in the next beat. A true, breathless smile looked good on the man: his sleep-deprived eyes shining anew. \n\n\"If they kick us out, we'll just go dance out in the dirt. How's about it, Alma?\" If she was giggling like a girl now, he was more than eager to see her out with the crowd, skirts spinning and hair unraveling. \n\nThough he was loathe to think of Constance at a time like this, he couldn't help it. The thoughts were harmless enough, given the venue. After all— she'd been the one to see about him learning to dance proper, elevating him from kitchen clogging lessons with Aunt Bonnie. \n\nOh, the clubs he and Connie'd been to up and down the east. Some they'd only seen from the outside, dressed too simply to be allowed entry. As long as they could hear the music from beyond the door, they'd still dance 'til they got tired or needed another drink. Rhett was sure he'd forgotten most of the moves he'd picked up out there beyond the ridge during those blurry, drunken nights in Chicago, Pittsburgh, Baltimore, but he sure as hell still knew enough to catch Alma proper. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "Alma should have paced herself. Their last meal out in the woods hadn't exactly been a feast and, although Alma knew her way around liquor, she wasn't exactly built for drinkin'. So, when Rhett caught her eye and took a third shot, she hesitated. Just for a beat. She knew she could easily handle three on a normal day. Surely a third wouldn't do her any harm? She knocked it back shortly after him, giggling as she felt him slam his cup down on the wooden table, but the giggle caught in her throat when he fixed his gaze on her. There was an intensity in them that had her confused until she realized he was extending a hand to her. Her eyes darted between his smile and his hand as her shine-soaked mind strove to process just what was happening. \n\nThis isn't something friends would do, That cruel, sober ghost of Alma whispered, making her pulse pound in her ears. As the moonshine wrestled with her common sense, Rhett's lips were wrapping themselves around her name so eagerly that her fingertips went gliding unbidden across the callouses of his palm.\n\n\"Okay, Rhett,\" Was all she could manage as she allowed herself to be led towards that packed dancefloor.\n\nTheir hands had touched before. Alma had helped him up off the ground. Rhett had guided her over a fallen log just earlier that day. This was nothing special or new. Every dancer there was holding each other's hand. This action should have been nothing - meant nothing! But it meant everything. It meant he didn't care if she stepped on his toes in public. It meant he didn't mind her ugly, tree bark brown dress that hid every inch of skin it could. It meant he wanted to dance with Alma. And only the Lord Himself knew how Alma would do anything and everything in her power to give Rhett what he wanted so long as it meant he'd smile like that.\n\n_ _ \nThis isn't something friends would do, The voice hissed again, but she ignored it as her boots hit the wooden pallets. A flash of skirts soared through her peripheries and she tried to create distance from them in a moment of panicked sobriety, which meant stepping closer to Rhett than she'd intended. The moonshine had only given her the courage to get out on the dancefloor; now she had to figure out how to move. She ducked her head down nervously and placed her hand on Rhett's shoulder the way her Papa had shown her all those years ago, but her feet might as well have been lead. When she did dare to take a step, her foot would knock uselessly against Rhett's boot. Thus began a quiet string of 'I'm sorry's as Alma forced herself to keep her eyes trained on the second button on Rhett's shirt. It didn't help that she was keenly aware of the pressure of Rhett's touch on her waist or the way her fingers had involuntarily tightened on his hand as if it was the only thing keeping her from drowning in embarrassment. \n\nTruth be told, it was. \n\nHowever, that third shot started to kick in sometime after the song's first chorus. The 'I'm sorry's began to be replaced with shy giggles and, although she didn't quite figure out how to not step on his toes, she stopped shrinking against him every time another set of dancers drew near. She even tripped over her own feet, but she held so tightly onto him that her head bumped into his chest instead of someone else. It caught her by surprise so much that she threw back her head and laughed. Oh, she was drunk. The circles Rhett was leading her into started to feel Fun. It didn't matter if she couldn't spin like the other girls, did it? Not so long as Rhett's hand stayed on her waist and her eyes caught his, right? \n\nIf this was what it meant to not be friends, then it was everything she wanted." }, { "author": "RHETT TERLIng", "message": "The moonshine made time skip and jump. Seconds were lost to the clumsy processing of a tipsy mind. Rhett's time away from the bottle made for a weakened tolerance, and he balanced on the knife edge that separated self-embarrassment from charmingly goofy. As Alma pressed to him, his faculties were inhibited enough to understand it as a pure desire for closeness, not an attempt to escape the crowd of whirling bodies around them. He blinked and their hands were each at their traditional stations: clasped in each others', her other at his shoulder, his other at her waist. \n\nGrinning, he watched the top of her head as she ducked down, his smile only faltering as a flash of doubt convinced him she was trying not to be seen with him. Her quiet apologies convinced him, though, that her shyness was brought about purely by her dancing. He relaxed, still casting a glance around the room to collect intelligence on any gazes thrown their way, but the two of them were well-camouflaged; faceless, nameless. They were two rattling leaves on a summer maple in the good company of a lush canopy. Here they could shed their collected identities: Rhett and Alma, the runaway and the mayor's daughter, the handyman and the school teacher. They disintegrated into the music. They shook in the breeze, green and lovely. \n\nHis face sore from laughing, Rhett still maintained his smile every time Alma kicked his boot. He bent closer to hear her giggles over the strings and stomping, the flyaways from her bun tickling the side of his face. As she tripped– Really Tripped– he reflexively tightened his grip at her waist, sliding his palm to the flat of her back, as though the greater surface area would keep her stable. First, he tried to hide the laugh that threatened to tear through him, not wanting Alma to feel he was mocking her. As soon as he saw her rear back in her drunken humor, he mirrored her. \n_ _\n\n\"You're doin' great, you know that?\" He praised, eyes gleaming, He rearranged his grip on her hand and peeled his opposite palm from her back to remove hers from his shoulder. Holding both her hands, their fingers woven, he pulled back from her, then towards her, leading her in a more raucous obedience to the rhythm of the band. \n\n\"You're ready ta spin, okay? I'm gonna spin you,\" Rhett nodded encouragingly, seriously, his expression leaving little room for her to refuse, \"I'll let go of my left,\" He wiggled his fingers on that hand against hers, \"Raise my right, and you'll circle under my arm. I'll do the rest. Got it?\" She had it, he was sure. \n\nAs promised, he released her right hand from his left, his fingers loosely trailing her palm as though he was reluctant to let her go. Raising his right arm, he guided her in the spin, her skirts flaring to match the company of dancers around them. He watched her like a magic thing: like the first snowflake of winter; a ripple expanding in a still lake. Time oozed and settled over the moment, just honey on the back of a spoon. Rhett would be there, sturdy, to catch her at the end of her rotation. \n\nHe tugged her to him once she fully turned, meant to be a simple leading pull, but possessing enough force to lightly and joyfully crash them together. Rhett's hand found her waist, the small of her back, quickly– as though he'd missed her while she was just a few feet away. Breathlessly and in awe, he panted out a few exuberant puffs of laughter, eager to gauge his partner's reaction. Hell– she might rear back and smack him, but he selfishly didn't care. The moment held him captive. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "The dancefloor was downright raucous, but Alma still found Rhett's breathless laughter and encouragement winding their way through her shine-addled brain till they were all she could focus on. So much so that she stepped on his toes again and had to bite back an apology that would have been unintelligible between her fits of tipsy giggles. He said she was doin' great, and she was gonna Believe it. So much so that his warning about spinning her only halfway stopped her heart. But she was too far gone to catch up. His hands were shifting again and he was saying some kind of instructions and then she was Off! She had enough sense about herself to tuck her free arm tight against her chest as her deep brown skirts went flying. Her eyes screwed shut; she couldn't bear to see mascara-blackened tears fallin' down a perfect, pale face again. \n\nBut, instead, she only crashing she did was right back into Rhett's embrace.\n\nAlma tore her eyes open again and realized there wasn't a bleeding nose in sight! Just the warmth of Rhett's smile as he rumbled with laughter, which she was now keenly aware of thanks to the way her hand had splayed against his chest to soften her impact. She didn't have the good sense to move it, though. As relief and joy and drunkenness and everything good and bright crashed over her, she found herself laughing so hard that she pressed her forehead against Rhett's shoulder till she was able to breathe properly again. Then, her brown eyes got brave enough to look up at him, big and pleading. \n\n\"Kin we please do that again?\" \n\n✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲\n\nBy the time Alma and Rhett had downed the last of the jar of shine, the moon had climbed high into the sky. At some point in all of the spinnin' and toe-steppin', Alma's hair had become a lost cause. She tore it down from its hold with a sigh of relief as a wave of cool, fall air washed away the scent of sweat and sweet hay. The relief only lasted so long, though, as Alma felt a shudder run down her back. \n\n\"It was so hot in there that I near forgot how cold it was!\" She exclaimed and clumsily fumbled with her scarf. The knitted yarn buried the tipsy giggles that peeled out of her as she swayed a little too far left. Thankfully, that was right into Rhett's shoulder, which only served to make her giggle more. She would've said sorry for it if she hadn't already said that damn word over a hundred times in the past few hours. Instead, she just wrinkled her eyes at him and took the opportunity to slip her arm around his. The door for physical contact had been ripped open on that dancefloor, and she was loathe to let it shut now. She could agonize over her foolishness in the throes of a hangover, but she had every intention of enjoying his touch while she could hide behind the excuse of intoxication. \n\n\"Kin I ask you a favor, good sir?\" Her voice lilted into a gentle tease. \"Think you might could walk me home? It ain't too terribly far, I promise! And it's on the way to yours!\" Her eyebrows wiggled as she leaned into the act. Home For them now was on the same acre of property. She couldn't think of a time he Hadn't Seen her home safely, but she knew that hearing him say the word 'yes' would feel just as good as him spinning her on that dancefloor." }, { "author": "RHETT TERLIng", "message": "They spun, they drank, they laughed. They Sweat; boy was it Warm! \n\nThe grace of winter air felt like angels' breath. The world was a blur, save for Alma. The past and present were swirled into a cocktail of unsteady footsteps but a steady grasp on one another as Rhett and Alma left the barn behind. Who could believe that booze was evil if it gave you such peace? Such freedom? \n\n\"Shoot, it ain't cold.\" Rhett laughed, his bluff betrayed by chattering teeth, \"We just ain't drank enough shine.\" But they had. Surely, they had. \n\nAs aware as Rhett'd been of every placement of Alma's hand on his shoulder, his chest, and in his own hand that night, he was most struck by the way she took his arm now. There was no pretense of reaching for a drink; there was nowhere to hide the gesture behind the ritual of dancing. This touch was purely and simply the desire for closeness. He squeezed her arm against his side as a little way to tell her how much it meant, his eyes wrinkling to mirror hers. No wolf could scare him right now, no haint could stop his heart. He had everything he needed and more. \n\n\"Good sir?\" He quirked, \"I think you got me confused with someone, ma'am. I'll walk you home, though–\" He spoiled his own incoming joke by laughing prematurely, \"I'll walk you home better'n any sorry sumbitch you ever did see.\" His face reddened. He knew he was being drunk and silly, but he couldn't help it, \"I'm sorry,\" He apologized, quietly clearing his throat. Jokes like that would've earned him an eye roll and a shove from Connie. \n_ _\n\n\"A course I will, Alma.\" He told her softly, watching the snow pack down under the toes of their boots.\n\"I'm real glad you're there in the big house, now,\" He said. He'd taken to calling his aunts' house \"The big house,\" Since he'd moved into the shack, \"Makes me happy to know you're just across the yard. Aunt Bonnie 'n Linda've been over the moon about ya bein' there. And I– well...\" An unexpected lump of emotion caught his voice, and he nervously laughed it down, followed by a sharp sniffle, \"It's just been nice, is all.\" \n\nThey were covering ground quickly, even through their drunken steps. Their tracks in the snow must've looked like a chased rabbit, zigging and zagging to throw off whatever was after it. The only thing Rhett felt like running from was the imminent future of being alone in the shack, cold and quiet aside from Spider's purring and echoes of Alma's laugh following him into sleep. Rhett could see the distant glow of a lantern in the kitchen window of the big house. Though his aunts were sure asleep by this hour, they'd kept a flame lit for Alma to find her way. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alma Cooper", "message": "\"You are such a doggone liar, Rhett.\" \n\nAlma snickered to herself and, if she was upset with him and his Obviously Chattering teeth, she sure as Hell didn't show it. If anythin', she just siddled up closer to him in a weak attempt to block out to cold however she could. Now, Alma was not a particularly... Blessed woman. Not only had she been stuck with her father's height, but her mother hadn't thought to pass down her strong legs or wide hips, either. Boys at school used to tease her for bein' a boy and it'd really work her up. As an adult, she still had the bad habit of burying herself under layers and layers of cloth. But layers were layers, and they'd help keep at least the right-most side of Rhett protected from the freezing winds. \n\nHer giggles only faded when he said sorry outta nowhere. She cocked an eyebrow at him and looked up into his eyes as if he'd just claimed he'd spotted a five-legged deer. \"What on earth are you apologizin' for?\" She chastised, but it was as gentle and lovin' as a school teacher scoldin' a student for having completed an extra page of homework. Then, the dots seemed to click in her mind. \"You know you ain't gotta apologize to me none for cussin, right? It's okay. Believe it or not, I kin cuss to! Ready!... *Shucks!\" That sent her into another fit of drunken laughter and she veered hard to the left, dragging him a few steps with her until they sorted each other out into an arguably straight line ( by drunken standards, at least ).\n\n_ _\nHis quiet agreement earned him a happy hum of acknowledgement and then she went quiet to listen to him properly. One of the things she appreciated most about Rhett was how low and quiet he always seemed to speak. It felt to her like she really had to focus to hear every word, and that only made his words more valuable to her. But, my, how even her ears turned hot with a blush as he brought up her livin' in \"The big house\". She was probably just a little too drunk and was misinterpreting his words for something more, right? She had to be. \n\n\"It has been nice, hasn't it? Bonnie n' Linda really have shown me nothin' but kindness. All of you have. I'm just so grateful y'all were willin' to put me up like this. Plus, it's been nice not havin' to walk so far to bring you your cookies n' pies. Havin' you so close has just been—...\" She cut herself off too, and ultimately settled on the same safe, conclusion as he had. \"It's been Real* Nice.\"\n\n_ _ \nSeeing the glow of the lantern in the window made Alma wish they'd walked a little slower. Of course, Bonnie and Linda were looking after her even at this hour. They really were all starting to feel dangerously like family. She would have to wake up early and cook them something special tomorrow as a thank you present. But, for now, she found herself wrangling with the same emotions she'd felt when they first arrived in town: she didn't want the night to be over. Only, this time, she wasn't sober enough to stop herself. \n\n\"Now, I know you're probably all kinds of eager to be rid of me, but don't you go thinkin just cause' I'm drunk that I went and forgot that cider I promised yo—\" The wind chose just that moment to pick up. It was one of those biting winds that reassured anyone foolish enough to stand in its path that winter would soon have this region in a chokehold. It picked up Alma's skirt's and whipped up some snow right against Alma's exposed shins. She let out a little shriek and clung to Rhett like her life depended on it. \"That. Is. It! Let's get inside, quick!\" \n\nShe meant to go for his sleeve again. Really, truly, she did! But... She didn't. Her hand slipped right into his and she went running for his door just as quick as her feet could carry her!" } ]	817	12,253
363.666667	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Fidelis", "message": "Herein, there is no such joy in the tavern as upon the road thereto— a saying that lost all its truth, if your 'road' was little more than some knee-deep mudded footpath, laden with dirty rags of gray snow and the ruts of many men, maybe horses, tracking ice and stiff hay to and from the barn that Fidelis now loitered outside of. Since the storm had ceased, he'd seen people trekking out here; never in large groups, never all at once, but enough that when he'd followed their steps through the fresh snow, the sight of the dilapidated, rotten old building had confused him. \n\nOnly one type of business went on in places like these. People, fiddling around where they weren't supposed to, kicking up evil and conducting bad business— the man Fidelis' dream, should his theory be confirmed. More cunning than any hunter's fox-hound, he'd tried to Case The joint first, stalking around the snow drifts, waiting quiet in the cold shadows at the edge of the field— but all that'd got him was a chill, doilies of frost melting wet on his woolen coat's shoulders.\n\nHe wanted to go in. That was the reigning desire.\n \n\nBut he couldn't just... Go In, you know. Impulsivity had gotten him this far in life, but it, more than anything, was a luxury. The snake that struck without seeing caught nothing but a boot, and detesting the feel of rubber in his teeth (or rather, a bullet to the face) there was nothing to do but wait for someone 'in-the-know' To come along, to absolve him of the curse of being a new face in an old locale. \n\nIt was hardly an elegant plan, just waiting to rely on someone, but Fidelis was patient. Reserved. Crouching at the side of the road, his heels taking all his weight, the man wrestled a small, metal tin with numb fingers from his coat's thready pocket, eyes casting down the range again before he wedged his teeth into the lid. It was nothing, to pinch a small bit of snuff between thumb and forefinger, to let it slide in cup of his hand's webbing, head reeling back as he took a short, sharp Sniff Before bowing forward with a sneeze. It was nothing, to swipe his nose with the back of a shaking hand. To glare back towards the road. To wish absently for a cigarette, praying for someone to come along." }, { "author": "Noah Owens", "message": "I had been a... Rough night, and Noah needed to get somewhere where he could surround himself with life and laughter. Too many memories lurking in the shadows these days, too many ghosts. At least the blizzard had ended and he could walk along to familiar paths to a place where he could count on a friend or two to be visitin'. His steps slowed as he approached the barn only to be met with the sound of a sneeze and a glance found the unfamiliar shape of a man. \n\nDistrust was his first instinct; lots of new faces the last few years, lots of death too. He pushed the feeling down though and loosened his shoulders. His momma always said that everyone deserved a bit of kindness and that mindset had always rewarded him in the past. There was no sense in letting the world make him cold when it had tried so hard, for so many years, and failed.\n\n\"Evenin' friend,\" He called out and offered a half wave in greeting, stopping a distance away from the man crouched in the dirt. \"You lose something over there?\"\n\nNoah being friendly didn't mean he had to be stupid and he had never really been able to shake the hyper awareness left over from his years in the war. He didn't approach no further, waiting to see what the man said." }, { "author": "hawker_hurricane0", "message": "At one point in time, tea was the best way to give Akira the tranquility she'd need, back in the safety of her home. But ever since the werewolves attacks began, she became a familiar face at good ol' Davis. She'd be by the barn early enough, often encountering some familiar and new faces alike. \n\nHer eyes glanced over one man closer to the entrance as she passed by, but for all she knew, Fidelis was 'lost'. She didn't even make an effort to make eye contact with him, as she only had one idea in mind.\n\n The woman soon disappeared into the shadows, unknowing if she were to be followed by the strangers. Inside the 'barn', she took a seat on her now usual spot, deep in her solitude. Those who knew her may have noticed how she had only become quieter and more isolated. As if the attack she had experienced back in fall left more than simple physical scars across her face. After all, who wouldn't want to forget that ugly beast, tearing into one's flesh?\n\nWith a small gesture of one of her hands, Akira got the attention of one of the waitresses, and simply asked for the 'usual'. As the moonshine flowed, she'd start to feel the effects she desired. For the last time before the full moon, Akira would feel relaxed." } ]	279	1,091

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