aviendha

The Guild

Grey continued to sing, but her song became distorted, and odd. No longer was the meter a familiar rhythm- now, it continuously changed, from fours to threes to sevens, from halves to wholes to sixteenths, altering and switching within several different tempos without hesitation. Disorienting to the listener, as there was no predictable beat whatsoever, it was the sort of esoteric music which only a musician could understand (or enjoy). A musician, and her shadows, that is. She paused every so often to take a breath, the only consistency in the song.

The first shadow flew in from above, then dissipated above Kaito, creating a shroud of darkness from above. It was not nearly enough to blind him, that would take hours to create, but it was enough to dim the area, as though a fog had set in. The two flanking Kaito, with identical motions from either side, rushed in, each reaching out with a dozen clawed arms, their forms shifting into grotesque and foreign shapes reminiscent of nightmares. They swiped with precision, with impressive speed and force, aiming at every joint they could see in Kaito's body.

The one in the rear, however, did not approach. It stopped, a few spans away from Kaito, poised and ready to fight. Unlike the others with their constantly changing bodies, this one seemed to be slowing, settling in on a preferred form. It had not decided yet, but it would soon enough.

The blood pooling in Grey's upturned palms had begun to drip down her arms, mingling with the sweat pervading her skin. It was not torrential, but it was enough that the audience could see that her hands were injured. Her robe clung to her skin along her upper arms and chest and back, where the sweat had soaked through the thick fabric. She kept singing to strengthen her beasts, tensing her muscles, her eyes locked shut. Her trust was in those shadows.

𝕲𝖗𝖎𝖒 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖎𝖙

A Hotel in Paris | April 14, 2012

Sonya hesitated, before answering. Sure, the man seemed nice enough, and he looked at Dmitri with what she observed as something like kindness in his eyes. He even seemed to know the conventions of nicknames in Russia. However, this person was still a stranger, still a man. Trust was not something she could afford to hand out without regard, especially in circumstances where her environment was completely unfamiliar. She therefore maintained her frown, still clutching Dmitri close. Speaking quietly, she finally responded to his question. "Sonya. Sonya Romanov."

She watched him open his bag, and produce an envelope nearly identical to her own. Her eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at her own envelope again- on which Dmitri was now chewing- before looking back at his. Wanting to address the coincidence, she paused, but did not know a subtle way to approach the topic. She opened her mouth a little, but closed it after a moment, unsure of the English word for what she wanted to say. It took a solid minute before she could verbalize her thoughts on his first comment. "Um, not laws. How to say- конвенций? I do not know. The way people regard it, not the government. Individuals. Conventions, I think?" Struggling to find the right words, she stumbled over her sentence, fumbling with her pronunciation as well. She gave up, and moved onto the next point.

"I do not use эскорт. I will not take chance- Dmitri and I will walk to the estate, так безопаснее." Sonya shuddered, and shook her head. "I will say hello, I think, to the people with the envelopes, and then I will leave on my own." The last three words were emphasized, however unintentionally. She did not seem happy or angry, rather, determined, or at the very least logical and certain.

Dmitri cried out suddenly, dropping the envelope. He had cut his hand on the sharp paper edge of the flap. Sonya sat down on one of the chairs, setting down her satchel, and held his little hand in her own. The boy fell silent, and she kissed the palm of his hand, smiling at him. "Все хорошо, хорошо, хорошо," She whispered, holding his hand gently. "Не бойся, это только на секунду больно..." Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a thin roll of bandages. Peeling off a bit of it, she wrapped Dmitri's hand loosely, to help him keep from picking at the cut.

Sonya bent over, to reach for the envelope on the ground, and her satchel fell off of her shoulder. Scrambling to pick everything up, she flushed red. Dmitri started to cry out again, raising his arms towards his mother's hair, grabbing a handful of curls, and pulling on them. Sonya took a deep breath, and tried to collect herself again, stammering. "I apologize, I am not good at balance."

The Guild

I responded- she's pulling out all the stops now, lmao.

(that was a music joke so it's funny, I swear...)

Also, really looking forward to meeting the seventh member!!! (PS- It would be really great if we could get a dwarf...)

Cinis

@deadpixel101 I'm really curious now... My character is half Israeli, half French, and spent a little while living in Argentina, and is now in America- she's a collage of origins, lol. It's always fun to know and understand the ethnic and geographical origins of characters.

The Guild

When Kaito rolled out of the way, Grey found herself standing in the light, no longer in his shadow. She cringed, and ran to the edge of the ring, into a shadow cast by one of the walls, and stood still. This jog betrayed her lack of speed- she was never fast, without a mount. This was not a fight she could win with her hands, or with weapons, she knew. It was a fight she must win with beasts.

She raised her arms- it was not necessary, but movement helped her envision what she wanted from the shadows- and began to sing. Unlike her previous statements, though, this one was strong. Her voice rang out, clearer than the daylight, more forceful than wind, as she sang into existence new beasts of shadow. She sang words that sounded to those who did not speak the language of darkness like gibberish, a gibberish that somehow brought the illusions to life.

Four shapes rose from the shadows like smoke, tendrils swirling in a wind that was not there. Taller than even Gareth, they towered above Grey, by several spans. They did not solidify to mimic the shape of any one animal- rather, they seemed to flit between a thousand, never settling. Arms and legs and heads shifted between them, as though they were mimicking creatures that could never exist in reality. Full of dark holes reminiscent of eyes and mouths, changing and revolving, numerous and sickly, the creatures were monstrous in design. They let out a sound similar to the snakes before, this time, like the grinding of metal as though steam were attempting to escape from a dying machine, a hoarse scream of some unidentifiable glee. Still, she continued to sing.

They became more and more solid, and Grey tensed the muscles in her arms, staring with unblinking eyes at Kaito, her face fixed in a disturbingly calm expression. The beasts of shadow cried out for her, and began to writhe with anticipation, impatient, almost as though they were sentient. They weren't, of course- she could only call the shadows to fight for her, she could not create life from the void.

She interrupted her own song, and spoke one word.

"Attack."

She used the initial terrifying roar of her beasts to disguise a moment of pain on her part. Glancing down at her hands, she saw the rough burns and welts from her snake-blades on her hands- both of her palms bled, their skin scratched off by the overly eager creatures. They might fight for her, but shadows do not understand pain. Sweat beaded down her hands, her face, her body, soaking her robe. She closed her eyes, placing all her trust in the shadows, leaving her body entirely vulnerable. She began to sing once more, with renewed barbarity, strengthening her beasts.

The four beasts reveled in her word and song, relishing in the moment of her command, and dove forward with the ferocity of starved lions. One lingered longer than the others, and approached from the front, taking the rear; two swam through the air itself to flank Kaito, while the last jumped high above their heads to tackle him from above. Coming at Kaito from four directions, with Grey's tenacious song filling the makeshift arena, they made for a truly odd, yet terrifying, sight.

Cinis

@deadpixel101 I just read through your character sheet, and I really, really like it! I just had a quick question- where is the character from, specifically? I'm assuming he's American, but even then, where specifically in America does he live?

𝕲𝖗𝖎𝖒 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖎𝖙

Personally, I don't like the idea of a voting system, for a variety of reasons, outlined below:

• It's a hackneyed trope. That doesn't necessarily mean it's bad, that just means it's overused. It's not original. It's not inventive. There's a certain outcome, so it's incredibly predictable. In short, it's boring.
• It's a classic trope because it's easy, and easy doesn't necessarily mean good.
• It plays off the idea of a mob mentality, and that only works when you have cohesive groups. We are each playing as individuals, and I've never seen a mob mentality actually form in an RP with such talented writers as you all. We're too attached to our characters' individual belief systems to let them fall into the trap of peer pressure. Therefore, it would work out in such a way that no matter who is voted off the island, the majority of the players would be dissatisfied with the results.
• It will get rid of players/characters twice as fast. And half of all character deaths will be predictable, and boring. One half will have exciting, heart pounding, thrilling escapades which lead to their demise; the other half will simply be voted to death, and follow through to a boring ending. It's predictable, it's boring, once again. It lessens the suspense, cheapening the story.
• If we didn't have a voting system, it would be on us- or rather, our characters- to take up initiative and find out who the culprit is. Having a voting system makes it so that our characters don't need to individually attempt to figure out what's happening. It makes it so that we can be lazy, and just let the murders happen, then vote someone out, then wait for another, etc. If we didn't have a voting system, there would be nothing in the way of the murderer but the drive of the characters not to want to die. It would give us a better chance to develop our characters.
• A voting system will lend to the killing of innocent people, sure, but don't we already have that with the murders? Don't we already have the "psychological conflict between your characters and [mistrust sown] in the group"? And, if there was no voting system, wouldn't they have to "come to terms with being 'responsible' for the death of this person", the person in question being the latest victim, given that your character did not take the necessary steps to stop the murderer?

In short, it doesn't add anything that I can see, it takes away opportunities, suspense, initiative, development... etc.

𝕲𝖗𝖎𝖒 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖎𝖙

A Hotel in Paris | April 14, 2012, Quarter Past 2 PM

Sonya flinched when the man spoke. She turned away from him momentarily, hiding her flushed face and exposed chest. Removing the blanket, she folded it into a neat little square, and slipped it into her satchel. Dmitri let go, and she set him down on the floor, where he sat contentedly, gazing up at the man. Sonya buttoned up her blouse again, readjusting everything to cover her chest. After a minute, she was presentable. However, she still did not look up at the man. Embarrassment ran through her veins with a hot ferociousness, and it took her a moment to summon up the courage and ability to speak. Little Dmitri cooed, falling backwards to lie flat on the floor.

"Мне еще нужно накормить ребенка обедом-" She paused for a moment, realizing that the man had spoken English, and reacquainted herself with language. "I was feeding my son. I do not know laws regarding feeding in public, so I came in here not to offend." Gingerly, she approached each word with uncertainty, trying to enunciate clearly. Her voice, though smooth and soothing as honey, was broken by her thick accent, the breaks between words uneven and rough. It had been several months since she had last spoken English, so her voice was used to the timbre and style of Russian.

Dmitri reached up towards his mother, and Sonya pulled him into her lap. Twirling her fingers through his hair, she smiled, and finally looked up at the man. "This is my little sunshine, Mitya. Say hello, Mitya." Mitya did not speak, but his face broke into a lopsided smile. Sonya picked up from the floor Dmitri's helmet, and placed it on his little head. Fixing the velcro straps into place on the back of his head, careful not to catch any of his hair in the seams, she was as gentle as possible. Once secured in place, Sonya lifted Dmitri up into her arms, and pushed herself up, to stand.

"Oh, черт возьми, I'm fine." She lifted Dmitri up, and the little boy let out a giggle, and Sonya's smile grew softer. She brought him close once more, and her fleeting smile faded. She reached down, and with a fair amount of difficulty, picked up the satchel, and slung it over her shoulder. Reaching inside, she pulled out the envelope, and the map enclosed within, looking at it with a renewed frown. "Though I am not sure where I am. I can not read французскому, French."

Dmitri, with his pudgy little arms, kneaded at his own neck, where the lump had been. Still staring at the man with wide, smiling eyes, he reached out his other arm to try to touch this new person. Curious and confused, he looked up at his mom, as though asking for an explanation. Sonya raised her own hand to quietly lower her son's arm. "Митя, не груби."

She tucked the map back into the envelope, but did not slip the envelope back into the satchel. Rather, she handed it to the baby, letting him hold the thick package for a little while. For some reason, he seemed to enjoy the roughness of the parchment, crinkling the corners, playing with the flaps and contents within. Dmitri was very easily amused, it seemed, by the simplest of things.

Cinis

@Silver Carrot If you want inspiration, here: powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Special:Ra.. The link will refer you to a random superpower, just keep going until you find one that you like, or one that gives you an idea.

Cinis

@Sisyphus I like the insect monster one. Could they potentially breed a mount?

@Silver Carrot Future stuff is super hard to manage- it's easier to be able to know the past.

@Nariata It might be cool if they could relieve the pain of others, by taking it on themself.