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It was a good thing she was small and light. Mountain-climbing wasn’t a hobby that Esfir had participated in back during her old life, and the shoes she wore, while protective enough, were also clunky when it came to slipping into cracks and fractures. Good thing she had buried the ores back in her shelter at camp; the weight would have made it extra miserable, especially when water was scarce and there was no prey in sight. Perhaps she could score another Harpy, or a proper, feathered bird with her bolas? Her thoughts wandered as she continued the drudgery of the hike, occasionally dwelling upon a landmark she spied in the distance or the goat trails that were devoid of goats.

But then, another runt called out to her, and Esfir stopped.

Spear and sling, with an outfit that almost completely covered their body from head to toe. They choose boots the same she did; a practical sort, considering how many runts were still running around without shoes. Ajar wasn’t a name she recognized, but she was never the worldly sort. And anyways, when it came down to it…

“I’m Esfir. The others say something’s blocking the river up in the mountain.” She gestured towards the pathetic trickle of water that she had been tracking thus far. “I’m going up to fix that. If you want to join, then do so.”

She continued to walk onwards, her brow creasing. Water from a mountain had to come from snowmelt, but that wasn’t something that could be blocked, could it? Yet she couldn’t see any snow either, so where did the water originate from to begin with?

“Let me know if you see food. May be a long day.”



@Zeroth@ReusableSword

“Some find enjoyment in replicating marvels with what they have on hand,” Otis replied, eyes narrowing towards the wedding gown as he visualized how he would replicate or dismantle it. Imitation was, within particular contexts, a form of flattery. In other circumstances, it was an insult worthy of the death sentence.

“I doubt anyone expected to be set ablaze by their instructor on the first day of classes,” he mused as he glanced over the fabrics that Scuzzy brought up. There was no guarantee that Chloe was someone who wore only a singular outfit to every function she went to, unlike Otis himself, but if one considered the price involved, it made sense to at least use durable materials for the parts of the dress that would keep one modest. He lifted his hand up, manifesting his Adapa once more and sending the tome in a circular flight pattern around the wedding gown in order to record the details. His other hand reached to glide across the final strip of fabric that Scuzzy brought.

Otis’s expression was more contemplative than anything else as he considered the experimental fabric. Textures in clothing, like in food, enhanced the experience. The cool, permeable touch of silk, the fuzzy flex of wool. Linen, cotton, leather, denim. All of them were clearly different. And while something could be said about using the lack of texture and color to highlight the presence of others...

“I’ll take a strip of Z5 for research and development, but adaptation to prolonged exposure confers no protection against the immediate impact of a fireball. For now, Scuzzy, I’ll use wolfwool for the bodice and the waistline, then gradually transition to silk as I work down to the skirt and flounce. Do you have gold thread as well? I’ll likely do a simplified version of the design on the wedding gown, though less floral and celebratory in nature and more suitable for day-to-day use.”
Collabs allow for shorter responses, so you can get more conversation completed in less words/sentences.


Estelle caught the Knight of Tomorrow’s gaze as she let Amanda shuffle off, and decided that now may as well be a good chance to clarify intent.

“I’m not starting this.”

So indeed, it did depend on Ashley, the most senior member of GEMINI currently present, the one who had survived so many operations and killed so many monsters. What, did she expect the Witch Hunter to be a brainwashed GEMINI cadet here, eager to jump into the fray and engage in murder? A sword was a tool for killing; her sword was always sheathed. Maybe that was how GEMINI operations occurred before. Finn the powder keg, Ashley the one to pick up the pieces.

Good pay, good benefits, good work.

Her paycheck hadn’t gone in yet, she didn’t actually use her benefits yet, and it felt 50/50 on the value of the work done thus far.
But whatever the case was, the Witch Hunter could not overlook the presence of anomaly. Deep shadows surged from behind her, but the encroachment upon her Divine Domain was enough to alert her of the presence of Esper magic. She turned, Dai-katana poised, immediately interposing herself between the shadowy humanoids and the Knight of Tomorrow. One swing sought to redirect the more aggressive one into the bar counter, a Dispel note’s purifying light working to erase the gravity of its shadowy visage, while the second deflection was aimed at flinging the lesser shadow off into the mess of melted chairs.

“Knight! Enemy Esper’s here! Go!”

She had no intention of starting anything, but Estelle certainly had no problems ending things. That came more naturally to her as a former magical girl.
The safety measure of getting jumped by all nine Magic Knight Captains in attendance, no doubt.
Certainly, this is an opportunity to harass pompadour lad again. Which reminds me: how did the NPC trials go, Zeroth?
In a universe where you could grab balls with body parts other than hands, she'd be offering to pair up with Ludo for a 'lightning stun into one hundred hungry snakes' combo in order to insta-end this trial.

But with the revelation that only grabbing with your own bare hands counts for trial-ending, she's more likely to just get her ball secured quickly and then watch the chaos of 400+ flying things in a small space from a distance.
Aaand posted. It's a bit late at night so I probably won't finish the NPC in time, but the basic ploy is...

Rhinecliff laced the tea with a mild sedative, the sort that would feel more a consequence of a food coma than anything else, but would induce a deep, undisturbed sleep. The teapot he used was designed for that sort of purpose, and he did not lace Duchess Agustria's tea.

He plans on making either or both of the twins into sleeper agents, in the most literal sense, where upon a particular code word spoken, they will basically pass out. This will be accomplished by one of his mages, who'll be doing the work on them after they fall asleep in the carriage. In future hijinks, this will serve as a way for his favorite overworked changeling to have a new convenient individual to shapeshift into for the purposes of sneaking her way into the Wizard-Queen's circle.

Of course, if his words alone would be enough to caused the Skybound twins to focus more on looking after themselves and distancing themselves from the mess that the royal court will soon be, great!

For now though, kids gotta eat.

Also, definitely gonna have Rhinecliff chat with Willowsteel some time.

//Rhinecliff Estate
@Estylwen@Click This

Slice by slice.

It was with a firm hand and long strokes that Duke Rhinecliff portioned the venison, the bloody juices mixing with the dark sauce. It had been a young buck that he had spied upon his lands, its horns scrapping against the bark of trees as it ducked its head down to eat. He had remembered holding an arrowhead in his hand, whispering the sorcerous words, and letting it fly. Human hands erred, but magic, once one understood the principles of ‘will’, was entirely reliable.

Mene didn’t answer his question.

Laurent looked at the young Viscount. Understood that he was dodging the meat of the matter, that his sense of self-preservation was still overruled by his sense of slavish loyalty to the Wizard-Queen. The Wizard-Queen who had, in two years, demanded more taxes from neighbouring cities than the late King had in twenty. Perhaps Evelyn had some humanity yet within her soul, in showing some kindness towards those that she had orphaned, but from Laurent’s own perspective?

He sighed.

“Mene,” he spoke, finishing the final cut and allowing the juices to dribble down the blade of the knife, “Though it is perhaps comical for a Duke to speak of this to a Viscount, I ask that you consider carefully who you ought to be loyal to. If I were as hotheaded or callous as some of my peers, you would be leaving your sister alone in the world, if at that, and all for the chance at a mere display of loyalty.”

The duke drew his portion of the venison upon his plate.

“Viscounts are assistants to courts, to counts, but offering assistance is not the same as treating yourself as disposable. You’re nobility; the consequences of your death affects all those around and beneath you.”

A chuckle broke out of him then, as he proceeded to eat.

“And honestly, the food’s going to get cold at any rate. Fill up your stomach and take a nap on your way back home. I promise you you’ll have another perspective afterwards.”
Mm, excellent…

Anyhow, Est, how many more rounds would you say that we have until the gala ends?
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