ERode

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

What was the situation here?

Verity was up perhaps a good seven or so meters on a coconut tree. Her feet ached from the vine-woven straps she had looped them around, from the surface of the palm tree she dug into the soles. The squatting position pulled at her inner thigh muscles, and she could feel the sweat building in her hands.

What was her situation here?

She was fine. The mechanics were simple. She could still hear the words of the people beneath her. She had strength to spare, at least enough to make it halfway. Better to descend completely though; she was just wearing a bikini, after all. And if she fell here, no one had the phone to call a hospital to send her to so she could spend a worthless amount of money to get all her bones and organs back into place and maybe buy them off of people who don't need them if she really had to.

Which was to say, Verity wasn't going to fall. Indeed, she was so confident in all this, that she extended her legs once more. Hopped up once more. And climbed up to the very top of the palm tree, her hands grasping onto the limbs as she lifted herself up into the dense growth. From below, Victor and Orlando would see her form disappear within the fronds, until only her face peeked out. Only her mouth.

Only the same unreasonably confident smile that she perpetually had.

And then, Verity descended. Swung from a branch to catch the trunk between her feet, then stabilized her positioning with her hands. Dropped her feet in and out, breaking down her fall into several short ones as the vines scraped and teared against the rough bark. The burn was in her own palms now, calluses reddened by her haphazard method. It definitely wasn't as stable, as secure, as her way up, but wasn't that the way for all climbs? It took ten seconds for her feet to touch the dirt once more, and the pale-skinned girl was happy to peel her wraps off her feet. She lifted them up one by one into a shaft of sunlight, admiring the dark red marks that the vines had left behind. Circulation felt amazing now, as did the freedom of being able to rotating her feet, flex each digit individually. Her palms came next, and she pulled the splinters out, flicking them into the brush like unwanted pests.

There'll be bruising for sure, and she could go for a footbath, but for now...

"Well, there's that." Two claps. The others were flocking over now. Flies to food, but her expression expressed none of the disgust that such expression would have impressed. It settled instead upon Orlando, then bounced towards Victor. "Gonna go exploring?"

A final, offhand glance towards the most nervous of them all. The flirt.

Figures.

Time to do the last thing from that video then. Picking up a coconut, Verity weighed it in her hand, admired its green-ish sheen, and then smashed its husk against the side of the tree that birthed it. Spiderweb fractures burst out its surface, droplets of sweetened water dribbling out to snake down her fingers.

But she didn't partake, and instead tossed it over to speedo-boy.

"Drink. It's hot."

Sleepless Nights\\ Iron Cages - A gothic cyberpunk RP about hunting the supernatural

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Brother.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

There was a strange moment that passed as Victor’s words lingered in the air, the last of the trio to refuse Verity. That open hand of hers closed into a fist, and that fist of hers…

…laid at rest by her side.

“Mhmmm.” Her eyebrows lifted up along with her chin, the smile that stretched to the corners of her face cat-like in nature. “How unreasonable.”

But by the way she about-faced immediately, feeling for a length of vine that was still flexible enough to be tied with, still sturdy enough to hold her weight, still weak enough that she could tear apart to an appropriate size, it looked as if it had been Verity’s first choice as well. The choice she would have taken from the get-go, if the second choice hadn’t been the funnier one. Couldn’t lose one’s sense of self just because they were stranded on an island, after all. The situation wasn’t nearly so desperate yet.
Though perhaps they would become desperate, depending on what happened in the next ten minutes.

Verity squatted down, measuring out a loop of vine roughly her width, and tied it together. Braided that loop with another length of vine. Then a third. A fourth. Her fingers moved slowly but assuredly, building up a loop that grew stiffer with each iteration. The fourth was done, and then the loop itself was twisted into a double helix, which she set her bare feet against.

A strange feeling, to have a half-dozen bumps dig against the arches of her feet. But it was flexible enough, and the lack of stretch would be accommodated by the increased friction. Now, it was just a matter of her body.

Waddling over bowleggedly, the pale-skinned girl set her hands around the trunk of the tree, one on the far end, one on the near end. Main purpose was to keep her body perpendicular to the ground. Her feet rested at the base of the trunk, soles pressed against the surface alongside the twisted cordage. Her eyes, set on the prize. Her mind, having forgotten the others around her. What was it like again…

“Frogs.”

Verity stood up.

Leapt up.

Landed into a crouch.

Stood up.

Leapt up.

Landed into a crouch.

Stood up. Leapt up. Landed into a crouch. Stood up. Leapt up. Landed into a crouch. Stood up. Leapt up. Landed into a crouch. Stood up. Leapt up. Landed into a crouch. Stood up. Leapt up. Landed into a crouch.

A splinter in her palm. She’d have to pick it out later. Better than the pinching of her skin, caught by the twisted vines. Her soles were tough enough though. Tough but malleable, able to get a feel for the bark that shoes wouldn’t have. Shoulders were shaking more though, and in some lizard part of her brain, she could feel how insane it was, to stand like a mountain goat on the sheer side of a cliff. Except she had no hooves, and it was a tree instead.

Huh. That explained the goat story.

Two stories ended too short, and it was almost a relief for Verity to reach the top, to be able to grab a branch with her hand. She stood up, looked back down, and once again smiled at those beneath her. A two-story drop would be uncomfortable on all of them, alas. They were saved by their bony, fleshless frames.

The video she watched had the beefcake twist a coconut off, smash it open against the trunk, and then guzzle it right then and there, atop the tree, but Verity’s own sense of stability was perhaps not quite there yet. So she settled for only doing the first bit, reaching for the green fruits, twisting them methodically, and then tossing them down at the trio below.

“Catch.”

A fun experience, to be sure. A real tropical experience, even! But not something she’d want to do more than she had to, so Verity just…kept at it. Twisting them off and dropping them down. Emptying the tree of all but the smallest of the batch, whistling a tune all the while, until it was all done and there was enough to possibly feed people with if the coconuts actually had anything inside. Now, there was the other conundrum.

Getting down, from a logical and mechanical perspective, was easy.

But mentally? Gravity was a bitch: fun to fight, hell to work with.

...

Of course, Verity wasn't stuck.

This all just required some mind-gaming.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Well, someone was certainly going to die soon, and that person sure looked like either Maive or Imogen. As Verity left the others behind, the wind nevertheless carried their arguments and anger towards her, unfamiliar voices mixing together into a cacophony of shouts and pleas, of reasonable people being swept away by emotions and bullshit. That Victor kiddo looked to be trying his best, and Sofia was getting it together after waking up a second time, but so long as they were stuck there, Verity herself was free!

Indeed, it was wonderful to be off on her own once more, and a skip joined her steps as she strode into the tropical unknown. Greenery this lush meant that there was water, and if one were to think about deserted islands, one would imagine palm trees and coconuts too! And where there’s vegetation, there’ll be wildlife! Had to be careful where she got her hands and feet in, of course, considering all the dangerous creepy-crawlies that gotta be around, but those were things to be considered at a later time too. Ah, but it would’ve been so much easier if she had at least jumped in with a t-shirt on.

After all, if she died, she died. Couldn’t really do anything about it. But dying in only a bikini? That’d be embarrassing. She’d be a lobster by the time someone found her.

The dry heat abated as Verity ducked her head into the brush, replaced by a moist heat instead. Slick leaves crunched underfoot, and the buzzing of invisible life seemed to vibrate against her bare skin. Streams of light pierced through the canopy, feeding the bottomfeeders of the ecosystem, while the wind that once felt so wonderful was stifled now in her surroundings, its only hint being the rustling of the massive palms up above. She craned her neck upwards, felt a crick-crack of her spine, and let out a laugh. It was different looking at it up close, but the surface of the trunk was as smooth as she had expected. Made it clear, the difference between coconut trees and just palms. The shortest one was still a good story or two tall, but their fruits dangled still like a bundle of grapes.

Out of reach, unless one climbed.

Thankfully, materials were nearby.

Verity wasn’t deaf to the world, after all. She had heard Sofia sicc some boys onto her, and when she turned, well, they were clearly in view. Them, and their pants. Daniel’s speedos were the most ideal material, but she’d be fine with swim trunks too. So, as naturally as breathing, the pale-skinned girl extended a hand, palm up.

“Give me your pants. One pair’ll do.”

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

_{@VitaVitaAR@Rune_Alchemist}

And lo behold, the Mausoleum of House Cazt, bedecked with the Eight-Pointed Star, the Eight Legacies of the besmirched family. Sealed by stone, the stench of undeath that dwelled within did not pervade outwards, but the interlacing of fortunes and circumstance, of knowledge and anticipation, nevertheless rendered the tomb a den of dishonor and disease, one wholly separate from the noble bones that had once been laid to rest within.

Serenity herself, rendered anonymous in borrowed arms and armor, stood before the tomb, beside her Knight-Captain. There had been no need to plunder her own family’s graves for such an incident, nor need to rely on the relics entombed by another family for the sake of the purging of undeath. Indeed, it had always been an era of sorcery and steel. Steel, heated and hammered. Steel, formed and quenched. Steel, the truest distillation of civilization. Against a cabal of grave-crawling pests, that was all that was needed. That was all that they deserved.

And regardless, even if those villains did think to coop themselves up under a rock, it was foolish, after the battle against the Bandit King, to allow the Knight-Captain to be by her lonesome once more. Even if the amount of incompetence thusly displayed by their faceless foes made them out as even greater fools than Jeremiah, the Knights themselves would simply be ever-greater foes if Fanilly were attacked while some were absent.

So Serenity remained. Listened to her Captain repeat banal statements. Measured her breath, felt the weight of her weapons. How the straps and handles dug into her flesh. How weight shifted as she twisted. The condition of her body, the juxtaposition of sensations of fine silk underclothes against the roughness of padded cloth and leather. She felt too, the weight of the stone doors, giving way to her might as she pulled them open and allowed the magenta light of sacrilege to spill out upon moon-stained graves.

Nameless soldiers, wrestled from their deserved slumber, shambled to meet them, and the young Knight-Captain’s sword gave them the example as to how such corpses ought to be treated. Fleuri’s charge was Fanilly’s refrain, a second sword swinging wide, but as for the third to act...there now needed to be order and cooperation.

The bascinet was indeed a good decision. Serenity’s gaze was uninterrupted, and the illumination of the undeads’ own ghastly countenance illuminated their immediate destination. What was appropriate then, except for a charge? And if there were to be a charge, then it came to measure.

“Dame Cecilia, a bolt of wind to scatter them!”

Archers to lock down their movements.

“Sir Steffen, Sir Gerard, we’ll trample them underfoot!”

Cavalry to break their formation.

“And Sir Vier, Lein, reap what remains!”

Infantry to clear out what remained in their wake.

And always, always, moving forwards.

Shield raised up front, mace resting upon her shoulder, the lion felt the ground beneath her boots, dug her toes into her soles, and waited for the storm that would herald the lightning.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Who are you?

I’m you.

But warm-blooded.

…

She tasted the world first, the grit of sun-baked sand digging into her gums and sucking the moisture out of her mouth. Then came the warmth upon her back, a heady, exhausting heat that burned right through her skin and fat to dig at her bones.

It was summer. Sensationally, if not temporally.

“Mm.” Someone, Sofia, screamed. Fainted. Another asked a question, and when she opened an eye, that person was busy spreading the unconscious girl’s legs. Who was it again? Ah, the flirt. Took all of three seconds. Her gaze set upon him, a whole opaque, neutral gaze. She saw him.
But there were better things to look at here. It was the tropics, after all! A small, deserted island with balmy breezes, a perfectly blue sky, and glorious palm trees. How isolated! How tropical! Compared to the dreary environment of coastal Britain, where rain and fog came in the same intervals as sea-foam on whispering waves, it could not be any more different! And there was the sea as well. Waters that promised the unknown, promised a terrifying unknown that spoke one thing.

Complete annihilation, rather than spatial translocation.

She laid a hand on her stomach. She had belly-flopped into the waters, but her skin was as pale as ever. Perfectly dry, but without salt residue from her dive. That wasn’t accounting, even, for what she had felt. It was all very strange, indeed, and any of her thoughts honestly just veered off into the realm of fantasy. Better off focusing on the other bits then.

“It was funny.”

She patted the bowing Maive on the back as she passed, then pulled the bottle of water out from the motherly student’s hands without a word. Twisting the cap off, she finished off the bottle in one swift chug, then strode off to the tides, refilling it with warm seawater. It was clear. Smelled of salt. Unsuitable for human consumption. She sealed it once more, then tossed the now-full bottle back to Maive, before marching off into the shade of the treeline.

It'd be nice if there were coconuts.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

_@VitaVitaAR

Nothing stood out to her, but that could just as easily mean that the handler themselves would be biding their time. Or that the handler didn’t exist.

Ah, that was the problem with stupid idiots. One was liable to overthink basically any answer or possibility now, because the statement ‘surely they wouldn’t be so idiotic as to…’ could always turn out to, in fact, manifest such imbecilic things into reality. But a mausoleum was perhaps the smartest choice that they could’ve made, under such circumstances. Indeed, if Serenity was such a Goddess-spiting bastard, she would’ve used the mausoleum as a deadfall trap. Manipulated this Tyli into feeding old information to whomever she sought out help from. Lead any good-hearted knights into this crypt, baiting them with the sister’s cries. And, with befouled sorcery, collapsed the mausoleum upon them, adding more corpses to the graves.

It was a ploy that could work even if the assassination had been successful. And it was a ploy too, that still seemed to have too many unanswered questions. How much of everything was connected? How much planned? It was convenient enough for the Bandit King to have made a loud enough ruckus to draw out the Iron Rose from Aimlenn, but even in their absence, the Crown Knights should have remained vigilant, and that wasn’t even accounting for the Mages’ College. And a group of five, to be present in a graveyard that housed the bodies of nobles and royals, undetected? How much of this was due to cooperation, how much to incompetency?

Murmurs grew louder. Serenity’s ears caught the whispers that rippled outwards. Lady Veilena was quick to jump to her own defense, but her own proclamation was loud enough to be heard by the others.

Criminals hiding within the traitors’ graves.

Many of those present may be insipid, but none of them were uneducated. They could infer well enough, though they were blind to how prejudices colored such inferences. It lined together easily, conveniently. Who else could sneak a necromancer into the crypt of the Cazsts, if not their heir? And even if true answers could be divined from those tomb-dwellers, being exonerated by the law was not equal to being exonerated by society.

The assassin would hang, lest a precedence be set.

The sister was hopeless, her fate sealed either as hostage or corpse.

And as Knight, as Arcedeen, her path too was set. It mattered not, what ploys were in place, what traps were set, what evils lurked beneath. If it existed, she would challenge it. Dress or not. And so, she too stalked behind the staff leading to the armory, heels clacking against stone.

The gloom of the armory was inviting, the torchlight casting an amber hue over the armaments. It was standard-issue equipment, a full set worth less than her sword, but she took to it quickly anyways, waving off the staff that moved to offer her assistance. Gambeson and chainmail, tightened around her hips with a belt. A dagger was drawn against the side of her dress, slicing open the confining fabric to allow for wider movement of her legs. Heels swapped out for boots, gauntlets for her hands. A bascinet without a visor; wherever they were going would be dark, and a visor would render her wholly blind. As for armaments…

A round shield strapped to the left, and a flanged mace in the right. A shortsword for nimbler foes, and a set of daggers to accompany them. A hatchet, always.

“Pants too.” Serenity spoke, though she wasn’t expecting the armory to have a wardrobe too. “That would be good.”

Anime & Manga! Oh my! (Anime/Manga Thread)

Dropping here to proselytize for Hikari no Ou. One ep out, but I'd say there's been nothing quite like it for at least the last year or so. Done by Studio MD too, who did Mars Red, which was a hella sublime adaptation of a stage play about vampires in the Showa era.

Anyways, Hikari no Ou is like, so fucking obscure that it's been a day since its out and no one's even uploaded its baller af OP onto Youtube and it also came up too late into the season to get previewed by ANN, so what can ya do. Take half an hour out of your life to check it out.



Also Vinland Saga S2 looks about as great as one would expect.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

_@VitaVitaAR

Fragments.

Misshapen pieces that only fit together clumsily. An adventurer from Velt. A mute bearing an old scar. A sister threatened, and a mastermind so idiotic as to leave a note at that. Not a note that exposed their location, but a note that, for whatever reason, served to exonerate this assassin, if only partially. This was a nem who could not even notice the proximity of the Paladin and the Gentle Blade. Understandable, for a foreigner. But to not know too, that this was Aimlenn, where the Iron Rose was headquartered? To not know this, but to think it reasonable to make a plea after they had offered their head to the axman?

Serenity let out a sigh. One that was almost seething.

Who the fuck was stupid enough to think this up and decide THAT was the way one could rid themselves of a Princess? Fragments indeed. Fragments so warped that they lead to an idiot, a buffoon, a clown with too much power and not enough sense, who thought that a disloyal assassin was their best piece to play.

There was a wetness in her palm. A warm wetness.

Serenity looked down. Her fist was clenched, her knuckles white, fingers digging deeply enough into creases that even blunted nails broke skin. Another sigh. Sir Gerard and Vier had asked what was needed. She, then, needed to simply take a step back.

So she did, and instead, turned her eyes towards those outside the circle that had clustered around this assassin. Nobles and retainers, Crown and Rose, servants and performers. And windows, lined with knights but still exposed to peering eyes.

Searching, always, for surreptitious movement, for the spark of magic. There had not been a second assassin to take advantage of the chaos of the first. But even in the absence of that, there needed the presence of a handler. Someone to hold the assassin's leash, to ensure that they didn't choose to seek help before this. Someone to ascertain their success or failure, to reprimand hints of betrayal. To silence them if necessary. And if they didn't even have something like that...

Goddesses above, if only every villain were so incompetent!

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Yeah, I think we should re-instate rock as the GM.