*swigs the open Gatorade in the fridge* Oh, someone spiked this.
5
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5 days ago
Somebody, design a neuralink that will write my posts for me as I vibe on them.
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7 days ago
Sometimes your muse comes back, calls you an idiot, and continues where it left off.
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Bio
It's me, that dood, Citrus Arms. I'm 33, I sometimes work on a book a little bit, and I play a lot of games. I like me some MechWarrior or the X-Frontier series, but I also adore some good magic-fantasy. I grew up with Final Fantasy VI's magitech world, and worlds like Chrono Trigger, Zelda, and Star Fox. Lots of Nintendo, but some other stuff, too.
I like sci-fi and fantasy and space and combinations thereof, mostly.
Stratya had gotten for ‘erself one of the glasses o’ mead that were goin’ ‘round, as she was regaling Ariella a bit abou’ ‘er youth. Baking with her mother, bullish figh’s wit’ the local boys, hunting, playing in t’ woods, fishing wit’ her father. There was much to tell that might be novel to a young upper class lady like Ariella. Even if it seemed mundane, but no less cherished, to Stratya.
“Loathe it? Ooh, swee’ thing, full glad ye’ve got’en ovah tha’. T'is beau’y tae be’old.” Stratya watched Ariella go f’r more from an empty glass and the knight halfed the smile that tried to overtake her. An empty glass that was supposed to be full was not unfamiliar to her.
Goin’ tae ‘igh class par’ies without proper shoes or any shoes a’tall was certainly something she’d na’er done, “ooh~! if t’ese boo’s werenae such a pain in t’ arse, I migh’ join ya. I be’ yer grrass is soft, it’d feel good ‘tween me toes.” The rural woman smiled, get’in’ a feel for Ariella’s interests, ”you’d like t’ Vermillion coun’rryside. Nothin’ bu’ plains and fahrrests and farrms as farr as t’ eye c’n see. There’s an ‘ole big lake surrounded by forrest near wh’rre I grrew up, too.”
When Arriella leaned in, Strratya mimicked ‘er motion and brrough’ herself closer, smilin’, “aye am, and aye ken.” It felt a little like Ariella was building up to a weird joke until she asked about holding her weapon, eyeing ‘er dirk. Stratya ‘ad been about tae give ‘er rresponse, the grin on ‘er face shifting to something less cerrtain, and then Duke Gideon showed up.
Stratya held the beautiful, generations old thing in her hands, still not believing that something so nice was now hers. A dirk, adorned with a crest. She fastened it to her waistband, almost feeling bad about the idea of going out to use it. Almost.
Fifteen, and going out on her first big hunt with her father. To go with the occasion, her first, real blade and armor. She’d held real weapons before, under supervision, and used knives in the kitchen, but this one was hers. No one could take it from her. She had been taught to treat it as part of her body, a trusted thing that she could use to safeguard herself and those she loves. She ran her fingers over the crest engraved in the hilt. The crest was here and there throughout her home, but never on anything big or obvious. It was always this little piece of metal on the end of something, for example. She'd never thought anything of it before, and she couldn’t step back from herself enough to figure out why it seemed strange.
“Kiddo! Arre ya rready, lass?” A man’s voice called from outside, patient and warm.
Stratya ran to window and called, ”I’ll be righ’ ou’, Pa!” The girl turned and made for the door of her room, checking herself over once as she did, making sure all her armor was secured correctly and that her dirk would not go anywhere. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and ran from the house, past her mother, whom she hugged and kissed, ”bye, Ma, love you! I'll be back with a good hunt!”
“Just make sure you come back, luv.”
Young Stratya was excited to put her training to use for something besides the inter-village skirmishes between festivals, for the kids. They used softwood swords for the skirmishes, and lucky kids got bits of leather armor, but mostly the armor was a very strict rule about serious injuries. Often, older kids would act as judges of combat, and sometimes even the Baron’s son would observe. When you turn fifteen, you’re too old to participate, and it’s time for you to go around between the villages and find your trade, instead. For her, though, she stayed here. She was a fine hand for baking, but also, there was her father's training to continue. He'd always told her she could quit, stick to baking or whatever else took her fancy.
“Hah, there’s t’ lass.” The girl’s father placed a hand on her shoulder as she ran up to him. “Looks good on ya. Rready ta go hun’in’?”
“aye, aye!” She knew she liked meat, anyway, and fresh meat was best. Full of energy and excitement, a young Stratya could hardly contain herself.
The man grinned and turned to lead the way, “then let’s quit faffin’ abou’!”
They joined a pair of hunters in the woods, a man and a woman. Stratya got a professional but couple-y vibe from them. Were they married? Their cloaks looked very well made. Was that chainmail? Her father greeted them, “Maximilian, Analise, good ta see ya, frriends. My daugh’er, Stratya,” and motioned to his side, where Stratya stood.
“Ah, yes. She certainly looks comfortable in her gear. It seems you’ve trained her well,” there was something unsettling about how he looked at her, like a merchant looking over offered goods. “Let us find our quarry, then.” Stratya also wasn’t a fan of being so ignored when she was right there. Talked about but not to.
The four of them went deeper into the forest, stalking carefully through the shade. Stratya had used traps for rabbits before, but she understood they were after something bigger, this time. After a while, Analise crouched to the ground and raised her hand, “hold on. Here.” She examined something, what looked like a snapped twig, and looked around to find footprints left in the mud, “boar prints.”
Stratya found herself suddenly hesitant. She'd run into boars before, during the village fights. She and the others had to climb trees to get away. That's what they were here hunting? Well, at least she had adults with her.
Before she realized, she was face-to-face with the beast. She stopped, staring back at its tiny eyes. It seemed like she stared the beast down for some time, before she looked to either side of her, looking for the adults she had been with.
Gone.
“Uuh..” Stratya was suddenly very nervous. The boar must have smelled her fear, and it took a step forward. She took a step back, and then the chase was on.
Where had they gone? As she ran, Stratya ducked behind trees or leapt over fallen logs to stop the creature from coming at her in a straight line. They were with her just a moment ago, couldn't be far. Where had her father gone?! She began to run a careful circle as she searched, threatening tusks at her heels. She called, only once or twice.
No time to find them. She needed to handle this on her own.
She couldn't stop its charge head-on, no way. Stratya had to stop it some other way, or get around it. There were plenty of obstacles about, but she found it wasn't dumb enough to charge into any of them. The girl did, however, spot a low-hanging branch she should just be able to jump and reach. When she went for it, her fingers only brushed against it. Just too short.
Damn! Her face contorted with frustration.
Once tumbled upright, into a crouch, she looked back to see the beast just there, bearing down on her.
Jus’ make sure you c’me back, luv. The worry that had been in her mother's voice was apparent to her now.
Stratya threw herself aside in time, and the beast became confused. It hadn't gored or trampled anything. While it tried to locate her, she saw what she could do. That tree she tried to use just then may yet be useful.
The beast was starting to turn toward her.
Her fingers dug into the terrain and she pulled herself up into a run. After a short sprint, she used the tree as a platform to redirect her body into the air and back at the boar before it could fully turn on her. She grabbed that damn branch and swung forward to land backwards on the creature.
The boar had the time to turn and face her fully, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was above it, and came crashing down on top.
Her weight was not enough to force the stout creature to the ground, and it started bucking and thrashing. Stratya drew her knife and drove it into the rear flank of the creature, piercing deeply into the muscle and abdomen. Shrieks and squeals accompanied its fall to the ground, the leg disabled. Distressed young Stratya spun herself around on the boar’s back and drove her blade into the neck next. The head thumped to the ground, the creature now silent.
Stratya found herself out of breath as she pulled herself off the still creature and onto the shaded, grassy ground, staring up through the forest canopy. There was blood smeared across her arms and legs. She stared at her hand holding the knife for a moment, trembling with the exertion, strain, and vanishing adrenaline. Her hand, and the dirk, were covered in a slowly dripping crimson.
She could hear a voice from not far off, “you’ve trained her very well, excellent work, Mr. Durmand.”
Angus Donald Durmand kept himself from glaring at the hunting man. Instead, he simply approached his daughter and knelt over her, looking into her eyes. “‘ey Kid– nae, ‘at’s wrong. Strratya,” suddenly, he had her full focus. “You’re an adul’, nao, y’ken. Nae many kiddos are ‘is successful on t’eir firs’ ‘un’, le’ alone make t’ kill. I am prroud of you, Strratya Gwendolyn Durmand."
He didn’t often use her name. Usually, it was to scold her, instead he’d address her with some pet name. But this time, there was a deep respect behind it, reinforced as he addressed her with her full name. She felt like she could count on her hands the number of times she’d heard her middle name. She had thought about how many names she had before, but had no mind to pay it at this moment. ”You..” she was still quite out of breath and unsteady as her hand lifted to point at him. It fell again shortly, ”lef’ me.. y’ bastard..” Her message delivered, the girl resigned herself to just trying to steady her breathing.
The man just laughed, the insult rolling off him like water from a duck. “Haha, per’aps I am, per’aps nae. Strratya, you ‘ave passed this phase o’ yourr trrainin’ - with grran’ colours - and now we come ta t’ last. We will ‘ave a feast, with the beast you killed prepared at t’ cen’er.” Angus paused meaningfully, “you will ‘ave firs’ choice o’ meat.”
Stratya took a slow gasp, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. The first choice of meat?! It was like a dream. She'd always watched the adults take their pick of food first, the hunters first among them, then the cooks. She spoke between breaths, ”I’ve ne.. ne’er got’en.. any o’ t’.. t’ ribs.. before..”
The knight no’iced Arriella had got’en rrather drrunk off o’ - was that ‘er firrst drrink? Strratya’s own drink ‘ad been rather strrong, but she didn’t think it had been like tha’. (Stratya her gotten hers fresh from the barkeep, after all.) Perr’aps Arriella was not accustomed to alcohol? It didn’t seem like that happened in this layer of the social ladder. She was jus’ a ligh’weigh’?
Ariella had omitted her asking to hold her weapon from her description to her father, ”aye, aye, t’ choc’la’e’s reyt fine, i’tis. I was jus’ sayin’ I’ll ‘ave tae try an’ pu’ a choc’la’e swirrl in m’ nex’ batch o’ sweet brreads.” Stratya discovered she had finished the porrtion of mead tha’ was smaller than wha’ she knew and brrough’ ‘er cocktail back in, though she didnae drrink from it ye’. ”T’ mead is me brud’ers passion, aye. He made anot’er flavorr by using ‘oney from an area rrich in berries. Clever ba-” she looked over at the Cassius table for a second, ”er.. guy.”
The knigh’ saw an arrm around Lady Charlotte, and therre, t' Princess was in someone's lap. Huh. She didn't think these cirrcles were so flirtatious. She'd only read about stuffy decorum and how to cur'sey properly. Strra’ya took a sip of her cocktail, - there was Prince W’lfric, back from t’ stables - and then anot’er as she turned back tae t’ table at hand. Ooh, what a good drink. Those colorful ones the servants just brought looked good, too. She'd have to try one in a minute.
Height: 5'7" Weight: 145 lbs Eye Color: Blue Hair Length/Texture: Short and well-kept, straight, smooth, somewhat oily Hair Color: Black Skin Color: Fair Facial details: Gentle but strong features and a shaved mustache and beard. Distinguishing features: His eyes are very blue. Clothing Preferences: Robes and billowy things, though sometimes a nice, crisp suit is good, too.
Psychology
Likes: Fine spirits, quiet, firelight, old lore, plays and theater, anthropology, archeology Dislikes: Electric light, burned things, lost knowledge, too much company
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Hobbies: Reading, star-guided divination, ancient rituals to the Gods, preserving knowledge, sketching
Life Goals/Dreams: He has much to learn and rebuild, after the ruin that visited his family. He had been looking forward to a relaxing life of reading, and had been considering becoming a priest, though how serious that consideration had been is unknown. He must soon consider finding a wife to be an important priority.
Personality Summary: Raynor has become a serious man out of necessity. The rigors of rebuilding the trust in his family his father lost and dealing with staffing issues has drained him of whatever humor he once had. He prefers his time spent alone in the library or in his study, but finds himself often in meetings with his staff.
When he’s not drowning in work and lament, he’s kind and easy-going, he’ll even crack a joke. He’s not a very tidy man, often haphazardly tossing garments onto the floor or some such, though he takes care of his appearance.
Background
Current occupation: Baron
Any past occupations?: None
Relatives: Father, Baron Maximilian Lancaster (Deceased) Step-Mother, Baroness Analise Lancaster (Missing, Wanted) Brother, Lord Donovan Lancaster (Deceased)
Skills: Literature and Lore, wine and mead tasting, delegation, star navigation, acting
History Summary: Before the Kingdom of Caesonia expanded into the region now known as Vermilion, the barbarians that occupied the area around present-day Encia were particularly resilient. Whenever one clan came under attack, with an alarming frequency, another clan would come from a flanking position on the Kingdom’s advancing army. While the Kingdom advanced steadily, engagements were trying. Their strategic coordination was strange and powerful. Their warriors, as well, were particularly formidable among the barbarians in the area. Due to the costly nature of engagements, when the Kingdom received an offer of submission, they took it. The warrior clans asked only to keep their way of life, their culture, and a treaty was struck. The Lancaster Barony is old, old enough that many have forgotten the importance of it.
Up until two years ago, Raynor Lancaster had an easy life to look forward to. Nothing too opulent, like you might find in the capital city, but easy enough. His needs were to be met and he would marry a woman from one of the clansmen elder families, or marry upward, if possible. Two years ago, such ideas were shattered when the then Lieutenant Stratya Durmand shattered his father’s underground sorcerer ring and black market. Raynor was left with many pieces to pick up and put back together.
With his time, the bookish man had read much of the library in his home since childhood. Myths, legends, fiction, non, he’d read much and more in the thousands and thousands of pages. That’s how he noticed something amiss in his town.
It started with the disturbances in 1733, speckled with murders. Stratya, the first child of an elder family and his old friend, had come to him for counsel after the first murder in 1734. Her keen observation and his literary mastery proved useful together, to his surprise. The implications of the things they discovered ran deep into the Barony. It was discovered that Maximilian Lancaster had been keeping things quiet purposefully. The problems were routed in 1737.
History Summary: James has had a comfortable, upper-middle-class experience in the Sorian capital for most of his life. With some hard work and a scholarship, he was able to gain entry to university. Two years ago, Knight Captain Stratya Durmand, Hero of Encia, took him as her squire and, subsequently, stuck him into her personal squad in the army. She told her men she’d be training him to be their lieutenant, and before very long, they’d left the Capital Sorian on an investigation, with himself kept close by her side. She only took her closest men and him with her. The Captain relied on his education heavily during her investigation, and by the time it was over and they’d returned to the capital, he had earned her men’s respect and his position as Stratya Durmand’s officer.
Oh, and a Baron NPC
Baron in Rural Vermillion
Raynor Lancaster, 30, Male
Appearance
Height: 5'7" Weight: 145 lbs Eye Color: Blue Hair Length/Texture: Short and well-kept, straight, smooth, somewhat oily Hair Color: Black Skin Color: Fair Facial details: Gentle but strong features and a shaved mustache and beard. Distinguishing features: His eyes are very blue. Clothing Preferences: Robes and billowy things, though sometimes a nice, crisp suit is good, too.
Psychology
Likes: Fine spirits, quiet, firelight, old lore, plays and theater, anthropology, archeology Dislikes: Electric light, burned things, lost knowledge, too much company
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Hobbies: Reading, star-guided divination, ancient rituals to the Gods, preserving knowledge, sketching
Life Goals/Dreams: He has much to learn and rebuild, after the ruin that visited his family. He had been looking forward to a relaxing life of reading, and had been considering becoming a priest, though how serious that consideration had been is unknown. He must soon consider finding a wife to be an important priority.
Personality Summary: Raynor has become a serious man out of necessity. The rigors of rebuilding the trust in his family his father lost and dealing with staffing issues has drained him of whatever humor he once had. He prefers his time spent alone in the library or in his study, but finds himself often in meetings with his staff.
When he’s not drowning in work and lament, he’s kind and easy-going, he’ll even crack a joke. He’s not a very tidy man, often haphazardly tossing garments onto the floor or some such, though he takes care of his appearance.
Background
Current occupation: Baron
Any past occupations?: None
Relatives: Father, Baron Maximilian Lancaster (Deceased) Step-Mother, Baroness Analise Lancaster (Missing, Wanted) Brother, Lord Donovan Lancaster (Deceased)
Skills: Literature and Lore, wine and mead tasting, delegation, star navigation, acting
History Summary: Before the Kingdom of Caesonia expanded into the region now known as Vermilion, the barbarians that occupied the area around present-day Encia were particularly resilient. Whenever one clan came under attack, with an alarming frequency, another clan would come from a flanking position on the Kingdom’s advancing army. While the Kingdom advanced steadily, engagements were trying. Their strategic coordination was strange and powerful. Their warriors, as well, were particularly formidable among the barbarians in the area. Due to the costly nature of engagements, when the Kingdom received an offer of submission, they took it. The warrior clans asked only to keep their way of life, their culture, and a treaty was struck. The Lancaster Barony is old, old enough that many have forgotten the importance of it.
Up until two years ago, Raynor Lancaster had an easy life to look forward to. Nothing too opulent, like you might find in the capital city, but easy enough. His needs were to be met and he would marry a woman from one of the clansmen elder families, or marry upward, if possible. Two years ago, such ideas were shattered when the then Lieutenant Stratya Durmand shattered his father’s underground sorcerer ring and black market. Raynor was left with many pieces to pick up and put back together.
With his time, the bookish man had read much of the library in his home since childhood. Myths, legends, fiction, non, he’d read much and more in the thousands and thousands of pages. That’s how he noticed something amiss in his town.
It started with the disturbances in 1733, speckled with murders. Stratya, the first child of an elder family and his old friend, had come to him for counsel after the first murder in 1734. Her keen observation and his literary mastery proved useful together, to his surprise. The implications of the things they discovered ran deep into the Barony. It was discovered that Maximilian Lancaster had been keeping things quiet as his own . The problems were routed in 1737.
Knight-Captain of Caesonia Stratya Durmand, 26, Female
Appearance
Height: 5'6" Weight: 160 lbs Eye Color: Brown Hair Length/Texture: Down to her shoulder blades and silky Hair Color: Light Brown Skin Color: Fair Facial details: Tall, round, slender and strong. Like Xena, but rounder. Distinguishing features: Plain but pretty, Stratya can be heard from afar by her thick dialect. Though she dresses to hide them, she has a few scars on her body. A few old cuts on her arms, lots of little ones on the backs of her calloused hands, and one on the left side of her torso, shallow. Clothing Preferences: Nothing very fancy. She often finds herself in uniform, which suits her fine. It doesn't get in the way of her movement, and she doesn’t have to think about fashion. Clothes that are too nice just make her worry she’ll damage them or get them dirty.
Hobbies: Baking, drinking, playing music, training
Life Goals/Dreams: Peace and safety for her people. She's a simple woman, content with simple things. Food in her belly, the sun on her face, people she likes and cares for. A good pint of mead. That's all she really wants, it's just too bad some people won't let things be that simple.
Personality Summary: Stratya is a simple woman with a sharp mind that thinks too much at times, and an appreciation for nice things. She'd love to just lay on a hillside and play her fife or have a drink at the tavern all day, but unfortunately, there's much work to be done. She's fairly easy-going, which can cause people to lower their guard to her, perhaps even to think she’s less capable than she is.
Questions regarding her father have been a specter in her woods since. Whether she could have done something to have come to a different end, to have left him alive. She feels responsible, partly, like she didn't do enough. Like she didn't see things quickly enough. Part of her says she did what she could, part of her says it wasn't enough.
Background
Current occupation: Knight Captain
Any past occupations?: Baker, Town Guard, Soldier
Relatives: Father deceased. Mother, younger brother and two sisters operate the bakery and brewery in the Vermillion region.
Skills: Flute and vocals, cooking and baking, swordplay and brawling, thought and deductive reasoning
History Summary: A young girl in a small farming village worked in her mother's bakery, helping to make the bread and often carrying the bread throughout her village to the various shops and folks that needed it. Her father, a guard for the village and nearby trading town, taught his eldest child, Stratya, the warrior traditions passed down to him from his father, and to him from his mother, and so on into days they had no records for. The day of her first hunt was an important day for her. At just 15, she brought back a whole wild boar for the festival that had been the purpose of her hunt. A very successful hunt. After another year, when she was considered of age by the militia, she enlisted into the town guard. After two years of guard service, Stratya Durmand began her service to the crown as a woman-at-arms for the local Barony’s militia at the age of 18, but through service exceeding her station, she was recognized for excellence and given an officer position. As a Lieutenant, and with the authority such rank gave her, her sharp mind began sniffing things out. The particular event that earned her knighting was the shattering of an underground sorcerer's ring, the capture of about a dozen gathered magic-users, and the elimination of violent resistors, including her father. She used a small, well-organized squad to breach a meeting and take the ring by surprise. That was in 1737. Since then, she's gone from the capital on a major investigation that was, ultimately, a failure, but not without fruit.
Personality Summary expanded History Summary revised Distinguishing Features expanded Clothing Preferences expanded
Tyrunt ♂, Lv 8, Full HP Moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, Roar, Ancient Power Ability: Strong Jaw
Blipbug ♂, Lv 7, Full HP Moves: Struggle Bug, Infestation Ability: Swarm
Yamper ♀, Lv 5, Full HP Moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, Nuzzle Ability: Rattled
Joltic ♀, Lv 7, Full HP Moves: Absorb, Fury Cutter, Electroweb Ability: Compound Eyes
Rookidee ♂, Lv 5, Full HP Moves: Peck, Leer, Power Trip Ability: Big Pecks
Gastly ♂, Lv 6, Full HP Moves: Lick, Confuse Ray, Hypnosis Ability: Levitation
Empty
”Oof, wrong immediately, huh?” Stella frowned softly to herself as she began reading. It was an immediately sad book. She gently ran her fingers over the egg as she read, subconsciously measuring it.
”Ooh, long break.” The girl hung for a moment on the name of the other woman mentioned. Ellanore’s sickly friend. December, ”you're going after her on new years..”
Another page. She gasped and held the egg a little closer, covering her mouth with the hand she'd been turning the book with. Was that.. blood? What had she done to herself? ”And then, two years later..”
Hesitantly, she turned to the last page, only to find herself confused, ”’32..? But, who wrote this page..?” and why?
Before she could ruminate, Mr. Osman appeared. Stella was so startled, she couldn't help her ”oh, sorry,” as she closed the diary.
She'd read enough. That wasn't Mr. Osman. She put both arms lightly around the egg, petting it gently as she studied the figure in the door. “You're not Mr. Osman. Are you. I'd say you were Marie, but that would make you very old. In this place for a long time. I suppose it's possible you're so long-lived, but,” Stella paused and looked around the room, “to have stayed here for so long.. why?”
"What.." Stella dreaded to even ask the question. She wanted nothing to do with whatever had driven Ellanore mad and made her friend so cold and distant. But.. it could hurt someone else, too, "what's in the woods?"
Hmm. Another, similarly pleasant, young lady. Must be the high-class upbringing. Of course, she’d only spoken to Lady Charlotte briefly, and only just met-
Ariella.
Stratya did a fairly good job of hiding the flash of recognition as it crossed her face. Only have a slightly sharp inhale of mild surprise, which she blended into a deep, slow breath.
Defaced the King’s painting, apparently. Somehow, the Captain had a hard time being upset. If it had been the Queen’s, she’d probably be actually a little upset, but the King? She’d seen enough glimpses of what that man was like to not care too much.
She’d just conveniently forget about that, for now.
“When I do make tha’ brread, I’ll be surre ta send ya an ‘ole loaf. But, if you’d like to get a taste before tha’, there’s tha’ choc’l-,” she stopped suddenly, canted her head briefly, letting out an “hoo.” She took a moment and shook her head, “choc’la’e foun’ain - sorry, I.. I saw i’, I used i’, I ate from i’, but only now tha’ I’m sayin’ i’ am I..” her body and head turned to look at the fountain again, “wooo, ‘choc’la’e foun’ain', ‘at’s lavish. If I don’t stop sayin’ it, it’ll stop soundin’ like words," Stratya slowly turned back to her new acquaintance, "every once in a while, i’s like I go back ta bein’ a wee lass from ‘t village. Like my eyes ‘ave gone back to what they were before an’ I see things like I would ‘ave then. Y’ken me meanin’?”
Having been about to take another sip, Stratya stopped and assessed herself; feeling a bit buzzed already, and the drink was only half gone, “‘is drink’s pret’y strong for t’ taste. Think I’ll change off i’ for t’ momen’.” Stratya caught the attention of a nearby servant as she set the cocktail glass down a short distance separate from herself, but still in front of her seat. She glanced at the place that had previously been an argument as the servant approached, “would you break out t’ mead I brough’? The Durmand mead, aye, aye. Let’s..” another short glance over, “let’s ‘ave a tastin’ wit’ everyone to set’le things down, shall we? Make a wee birt’day trea’ ou’ o’ it, ‘ere a’ t’ par’y.” If she could get tasting notes from some of the guests, or critiques, her brother would be over the moon.
The servant, having listened intently to decipher the Captain's accent, bustled off, and Stratya turned back to Ariella, leaning in to admire the other. “I love your hair, by t’ way,” the first part of the sentence was delivered with a deliberate pronunciation rooted in honesty, “like a campfire, i’ is, warm and invitin’. Have y’ been? Campin’.”
Tyrunt ♂, Lv 8, Full HP Moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, Roar, Ancient Power Ability: Strong Jaw
Blipbug ♂, Lv 7, Full HP Moves: Struggle Bug, Infestation Ability: Swarm
Yamper ♀, Lv 5, Full HP Moves: Tackle, Tail Whip, Nuzzle Ability: Rattled
Joltic ♀, Lv 7, Full HP Moves: Absorb, Fury Cutter, Electroweb Ability: Compound Eyes
Rookidee ♂, Lv 5, Full HP Moves: Peck, Leer, Power Trip Ability: Big Pecks
Gastly ♂, Lv 6, Full HP Moves: Lick, Confuse Ray, Hypnosis Ability: Levitation
Empty
Stella gave a soft sigh as she found nothing obvious within the room. Gastly noted the egg quickly as they entered, and the bookish girl nodded about it but wanted to check out the whole room first. ”Huh. It's like being at home.” It was about as abandoned of people as she expected, but there wasn't anything in here to have made that noise. Did it leave the egg and, what, just left?
Then there were the pictures. Someone bothered to tear out all the depictions of.. someone. The mother died first? Tragically, perhaps. Who was the missing figure? Her finger brushed the fur on the one picture frame, “what, a Pokèmon tore the pictures..? It was probably the Pokèmon that was torn out, anyway. Don’t you think?” The girl looked back at Gastly.
“Gas?”
”Hm.” She nodded softly, considering possibilities, then shook her head. Not enough information. She carefully gathered the egg and diary before having a seat on the couch to go through the diary.
She sat with the egg in her lap, her arms around it as she held the diary in front of her. She brushed her fingers over it for a moment, ”it's just a book now, isn't it..” another moment, and she opened the diary.
It's me, that dood, Citrus Arms. I'm 33, I sometimes work on a book a little bit, and I play a lot of games. I like me some MechWarrior or the X-Frontier series, but I also adore some good magic-fantasy. I grew up with Final Fantasy VI's magitech world, and worlds like Chrono Trigger, Zelda, and Star Fox. Lots of Nintendo, but some other stuff, too.
I like sci-fi and fantasy and space and combinations thereof, mostly.
Discord: CitrusArms
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">It's me, that dood, Citrus Arms. I'm 33, I sometimes work on a book a little bit, and I play a lot of games. I like me some MechWarrior or the X-Frontier series, but I also adore some good magic-fantasy. I grew up with Final Fantasy VI's magitech world, and worlds like Chrono Trigger, Zelda, and Star Fox. Lots of Nintendo, but some other stuff, too.<br><br>I like sci-fi and fantasy and space and combinations thereof, mostly.<br><br>Discord: CitrusArms</div>