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8 mos ago
Current If I read what?
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What a terrible day to have eyes
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Yes
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2 yrs ago
Imagine being a fan of Newark, NJ
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2 yrs ago
Eventually he'll land on the wrong horse name and get yakuza'd
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there needs to be more cuteness in the world

cute girls doing badass things

rp with me if you agree

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Meisa Amorette




Oratario was just about everything that she expected. It passed for a civilization, perhaps even a successful, thriving one, at least in relative standards. Compared to the memories of her youth, though, Meisa did not doubt that even the monuments of the city’s so-called Royal Road would not compare to the civilizations and works of art of cities long gone, before the fall.

In those times, there might not have been magic to make things easier, but no amount of magic was a replacement for a healthy nation where unity reigned and the people worked together, not against each other, like this wretched shade of a city was quite an example of. Meisa had experienced the highs and lows of life. She had lived in a palace as the member of a royal family, sheltered in huts, and eventually, a more pedestrian experience living in a cottage for the better part of a hundred years. Humble she was experienced with.

The Outer Layers of this city were something else entirely, where filth, desolation, and desperation reigned. No doubt, they would be chronicled as the worst slums in history.

Perhaps it was a bit strange that the deeply segregated populations of Oratario mixed at all, even if only on the passageways. That little bit had proved a bit of a dilemma for Meisa and Firenze. Personal hygiene and good clothes were a matter of life and death for the elven people, and just as with humans, the higher up in the social strata you went, the more important it became. They had brought good clothing with them, although they had worn simple but quality garments when traveling to the city as to not soil the good stuff. When they couldn’t bathe, they would wipe down when they could. Firenze had some useful magic for personal hygiene.

That work had probably paid off, given what was happening.

After spending only a couple days in the Outer Layer, Meisa had already decided to make a play for the Royal Road and the Adventurer’s District. Donning their clean clothes, the pair of elves had made their way up to the main street to the passageway, where they’d witnessed a rather amusing exchange between the guards and surprisingly, a pair of kitsune. The guards shooing them off was… somewhat expected given their race in this era, even if they wore nicer clothes… if dirtied.

There was something interesting about the older of the pair, though. Something familiar, yet not, given Meisa had never felt such a sensation before a person before. Given her more recent inclination towards divinity, though, the golden-haired girl had her suspicions.

What was unexpected, though, was the sudden appearance of a nobleman from within the Royal Road. A dandy that looked to all involved was going to accost the taller of the kitsune with a flamboyant expression of love… until he walked right past the foxgirls and then towards Meisa. The two elves perked up accordingly. Meisa gave him her brightest, most flowery smile… and then she too was ignored, in favor of Firenze!

Meisa saw the way her paladin’s lips curved upwards until it was nothing other than a shit-eating grin in the brief moment that the purple-haired woman glanced at her. She gave her a blank eyed smile back, but rolled with it.

‘Don’t fuck this up, slut,’ she mouthed, before her own features morphed back to the perfect, prim image of a young noble elf that by all means was to be let in.

Firenze, for her part, preened, beaming at the slender dandy. She had been curious about the way that her charge had been glancing at the rejected kitsune, but they were dirty losers, and the thought of adding them to her party to get inside didn’t even cross her mind.

“My, you flatter me,” she smiled, aiming to please, although she was far too much of a personality herself to do anything demurely. “A pleasure, ser Moissan. I am Firenze of Despina. As it happens, I do not… and how could I say no to such a talented, handsome man as yourself? Me and my—” she turned to Meisa for a moment to throw her a smirk, “—Companion would love to sit for a painting.”

Firenze ignored the way Meisa briefly gawped at her.

Paladins:


@ERode Yup.

Got it, edited. Workplace productivity is more on-theme for Civilization, so I'll stick with that aspect.
@ShovelToss it into the Character tab and go fill out the spread sheet.

@Click ThisFor the Paladin, unless you mean 'dungeons' as in literal prisons and hijinks, just remove that reference. She ain't tested in the Abyss yet.

For her Divine Protection, remove "discerning the intentions of". It's enough just to have them be more efficient working with other Followers. Mind-reading's something else. Other than that, she's good to go.


Nah, I don't mean the Abyss.

On the Divine Protection stuff, it's more like being good at reading people, not mind reading. Or is that still too much?

Domain of Simps.


Domain of Wealth with extra steps.
Hello, hello.

I am, predictably, here for the Domain of Wealth. Then again, there are other potentials. Domain of Servants. Domain of Ichor-- well, the other kind.




The conversation with Arton the previous evening had been interesting.

Despite the fact, as they moved onwards into hostile territory, Éliane put the details to the back of her mind. Each step they took now was unfamiliar land to her. Despite her experience, she had never been this far away from Skael, and the fact that Osprey was swarming with Valheimian occupiers meant that she had to be on her guard. After somewhat extended detour through the mountains to avoid the black-clad enemy soldiers, Éliane arrived with the others at the outskirts of what Izayoi said had been her former home.

Éliane had little experience with war. She dealt with her fare share of violence, and even won a full battle in the capital, but that had simply been a skirmish compared to the dual invasions that had happened in Izayoi’s home country. The sight of the ruined village and its houses was a sobering sight. The Skaelan woman remained silent as they approached, but she remained cautious, keeping a hand on the sword that rested at her hip.

It was a precaution that paid off, as Izayoi wasn’t the only one to quickly notice the Valheimian presence. The swordsman charging off solo in response was unexpected… but it wasn’t like Éliane wouldn’t have done something similar in normal circumstances. She approved! Grinning at the anticipation of imminent action and the satisfaction of seeing what had happened to this place further avenged, she took her hand off her sword and drew her gunblade. Éliane joined in Izayoi in charging the enemy. Taking aim, she shot at the nearest soldier, keeping close to the swordswoman as she kept pace with her. Although Éliane was all for charging into the fray, she preferred at least a little bit of pre-planning, but this was fine—she just hoped that the others got the memo to watch their backs as the two of them led the vanguard in this ambush.

“To us. Before they regroup!” she yelled, before firing again at a soldier that was getting close to Izayoi. Covering the last few meters, Éliane finally entered melee combat as she parried the first swordsman that approached her with a loud clang as their blades met.




In the end, nobody passed her the gravy, so when they made to leave, Éliane went ahead and took it for herself. It was in a polished, attractively decorated silver pitcher. She took a spoon, also silver, for good measure, because she wasn’t an uncivilized brute that consumed gravy straight from the pitcher. Being in tune with these sorts of things, she knew that the silverware costed a pretty penny, especially with the custom monograms and house heraldry, but she considered it the Asshole Tax.

This was why she preferred dealing with her own countrymen. Far more civilized, even among the commoners.

By the time they made it to the aforementioned lodge, the pitcher of gravy was finished and after cleaning it, set it amongst the trophies that adorned the interior of the building. When she went to her things, though, she found her belongings slightly disturbed. Frowning, she carefully inspected them, and found an unexpected note in her satchel. After reading it with a frown, she discretely approached the fireplace and disposed of it amongst the flames.

It was vaguely amusing that SEED wanted her back, even if temporarily after they’d been so angry with her about the way she conducted her missions… loud. Granted, there wasn’t much discretion needed for what they were asking for, and they were stating the obvious that all of her companions here would be of interest to Skael… but the command to investigate Arton was somewhat surprising.

There was also no mention of the members of her delegation that had fallen in combat. How cold of them.

Éliane sighed. Things in life were far easier when you could bash them in with a sword or shoot them with said sword.

Unexpectedly, the Skaelan man that had interested SEED so had actually approached her the next morning. A little bit suspicious, perhaps, but he also made her coffee, which made up for all of the world’s ills, so she gladly accepted it and returned the greeting. “Good morning. That’s the stuff, thank you…” Taking the cup, she consumed nearly a third of the cup before sighing with satisfaction. “Gods, the coffee here is fantastic.” After taking a few more sips, smaller this time, she glanced over at her countryman. Well, she supposed this an opportunity if anything.

“Yesterday was a mess, and I wasn’t drunk enough to deal with it,” she admitted. “This is why I don’t like leaving our country. Far more civilized…” She paused, and glanced back at Arton. “I was a bit surprised to meet a fellow countryman here, aside from my late companions…”
Polina Laye
Farisian Maid




With Livia’s assistance, the battle was over. It reminded Polina of the vast gulf in power between them, which frustrated her, but what could she do? Thankfully, as much as she disliked the church, she did appreciate some of the charity they did. In this instance, it was healing—and within moments, she could feel the cracked ribs and broken bone inside of her mend and quickly fall back into place where it properly belonged. She would probably need to cook up and eat a lot of red meat later to make up for the blood loss, but that was only a minor worry.

“Much appreciated,” she nodded, acknowledging Cassandre’s help.

Standing tall again, she brushed herself off, frowning at the state of her formerly nice dress. Torn as it was, it would take a miracle to salvage it, but that was something to worry about later. There was still a second battle to be fought, and without further hesitation, she shot off to where the rest of her team were –although not before briefly testing her range of motion.

The Farisian maid arrived onto a scene of chaos as her fellow maids battled the demonically possessed wife. She didn’t immediately join the battle, quickly observing the fighting to get the demon’s measure. She eyed it warily as it seemed to decay what touched her, and she decided to remain at range for now, sticking with her original plan even if she was healed.

Seeing that it was evidently powering up for some nasty attack as someone shouted, she finally engaged as she summoned up a quartet of knives from under her dress. With a snap, they shot off towards the woman, intending to ‘get rough with her’ from the start.
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