Fading Memory

A Stellar Tomb

Formal declaration of interest; cookin’

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

at a real life table, this is where I'd go 'and while you two argue...' and do a hard spotlight cut lmao

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

The grin grows wider. Perfect. An excellently crafted and delivered scheme to dissuade them. Now all he had to do was strike the final nail into the coffin of this abhorrent potential union of their groups. Before anything could ever hope to disrupt his ambitions.

"Ah, I would ask your forgiveness for making assumptions, but it is my understanding that the Bleak Cabal were the hopeless sort who needed others to guide their hands and point their blades. If it is your desire to risk yourself and your neck for your pride, then far be it from Zaraknvyr of Arabndar to stop you."

He raises his mug.

"To the continued indecision of the Bleak Cabal. To the strength of their arms. May they sleep deep and dream full, indeed. May they gaze into the order of things and see nothing."

He licks his teeth, staring at Fyodor, and drinks of his mug deeply until it was empty. Then he placed it harshly upon the bar. Paradoxically, his own pride and unyielding disgust produces a somewhat moderate sentence next;

"Your blood is safe from me." His nose wrinkles. "So long as you do not get in my way, you are not my foe nor my meal. I pray you do not regret the day you turned away Zaraknvyr. Our path is one you may yet wish you had someone who had some actual convictions at your side."

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

The conversations within the Blue Rat are warm today. Nearby Littles debate the finer points of this season's mouse breeding, whilst a particularly surly Salamander a few tables over declares, a little too loudly for politeness, that the journey down the great stair trolley was certainly superior to the destinations below. There's a brief moment of harrumphs and guffaws, before the slight is brushed away by Elizabeth's appearance in the room bearing another tray of drinks.

"That's some bold language before breakfast is even finished!" She calls out to the Salamander, who wilts beneath her strong glare. Old Abbot looks to his granddaughter with some concern, his ceaseless glass washing coming to a temporary doldrum. Elizabeth sweeps into the dining area and approaches our Little's table of Force deigned significance. She holds the myriad drinks up effortlessly, as she swiftly places them down before their respective clients.

"'ere we go, mug of water, hot tea, and for the miss we have a splash of cider." Elizabeth winks. "Grandfather won't mind an early opening of the keg, eh?"

She sweeps away at that, visiting a few other tables, before returning to the bar and making a few quiet words with Old Abbot, who has since returned to his never-ending task. At this time a level of excitement almost anyone of good sense would wish to avoid spontaneously sparks to life.

The door opens with immense verve.

In marches a squad of Fairies, each in the immaculate uniform of the Great Imperial Army; one of which, as is dramatically necessary, lacks a helmet. Perhaps this is because it would greatly disturb the hairstyle he bears of a rather dramatic 'swoosh' of swept aside hair atop shorter shaved sides. Perhaps infuriatingly for the ruckus he is starting, the Fairy in question is a rather handsome young man- if taciturn by appearance, with a stern upper lip and a critical eye. He makes a sweeping gesture with an arm, unfolding an official decree in his hand and sweeping it around the room as if its mere appearance would instill its significance to those present- though this was hardly a satisfactory showing for anyone to truly read the parchment at all. The only sensible content anyone would be able to make out is the elaborate and formal header and filigree of the document.

"Start on the right. Keep a man on the door." He declares to his soldiers. He hands the parchment to one of them, and smooths his jacket down his torso. "Please have your travel paperwork on hand, be orderly and quiet and we will be out of your hair in short order. I am lieutenant Francois Guillaume D'Arcy, here under orders from Gamekeeper General Jean Claude Van-Claude of Mount Guignol. Remain seated."

At the bar, Old Abbot visibly seems stunned. He places his glasses down, and coughs into a fist, clearing his throat. He seems to draw himself up-- But it is Elizabeth who shouts;

"Lieutenant D'Arcy!" She musters an immense chastisement from her personage. "This is insulting, your attitude is apalling, and you have no right to disrupt our morning like this!"

"And you, miss Elizabeth, should remain quiet to avoid making a scene. This is official business."...

And in blistering pace, D'Arcy crosses the room to the bar- where Elizabeth appears to be trying for the House's record in talking over an investigating officer in concurrent speech. Their words mingle and blend into an incoherent blur of discourse, one which Old Abbot himself seems bewildered at. Without a doubt there was some history to this reception between the two. The specifics, however, are difficult to discern.

Attempting to intervene or otherwise understand what exactly they are arguing about will require a Basic Success on whatever method is attempted; a two of a kind. Feel free to be as simple or as creative as you wish, if this be your intended direction of action.

Otherwise, our Littles witness as the soldiery begin to systematically maneuver about the tavern, checking people's paperwork and identification, as well as searching about the legs of the tables and beneath the chairs.

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

I shall get a post up within a reasonable timeframe from this point that the me of one week ago would say 'about two days' but I have come to learn means 'three or less' whenever I say.

Pariah Online

Xantha

X A N T H A
X A N T H A

^{“Maybe...Maybe this time, I can be there for someone who needs me.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R D A T A C H A R A C T E R D A T A _________________________________________________________ True Self Tilly Gallagher Persona Xantha Pathos Queon Role Controller // Zookeeper Weapon of Choice Magecraft Rifle Domains Primordial: Wind Arcane: Convokation Playstyle & Attitude Versatile Role Fill + Workahaulic. Encouraging Presence

T I L L Y G A L L A G H E R: S I N G L E M O M T I L L Y G A L L A G H E R: S I N G L E M O M ________________________________________________________________________________________ Tilly's life is defined by a constant swinging of the pendulum. Tragedy sparks growth, success leads to new mistakes. Growing up the youngest in a family of four, Tilly was always in the shadow of her older brother, Edmond Gallagher, and experienced many liberties as their parent's focus remained primarily upon him. Her parents were well-to-do folk; the father an active member in local politics in her region of the American Mid-West, and the mother an inheritor of a long-time family business that bankrolled the family's rising repute in the local environs. Edmond was their poster child, and Tilly's upbringing was swept under the rug by comparison. She was cared for and provided for, but the crushing expectations laid upon her brother were forgotten with her. His shining record only served to cover up her own struggling academics and social issues. His perfection blinded their parents to her shortcomings. He was her shield, and always had been. He was her shield when her early pregnancy came to light. He was the most doting and caring uncle any child could ever want. When Tilly's boyfriend proved deadbeat and disappeared without a word, Edmond rose to the occasion and removed Tilly from their parent's home to live with him. The family was split over the affair, but in the end Tilly chose to keep the child and that forever removed her parents from her life. Edmond was her rock in stormy seas. Five years later when Edmond died in a freak accident, she was his sole inheritor. She and her son, Tobias, were the sole beneficiaries of his stock firm holdings. Tobias even had a trust fund in place for when he came of age. Tilly did not handle the death of her brother well, and it is a regretful period of darkness in her life. As Tobias aged from five to ten, she was a wreck who could only partially be his caretaker. Considerable funds went into an au-pair program, and Tilly herself spent these turbulent years embroiled in therapy and alcoholism as she tried to find a light in the tunnel. It wasn't until she was shown Tobias' schoolwork, depicting his family as consisting of five separate nanny-mothers and zero mention of Tilly that she finally pulled herself together. Perhaps it was too late, but she began to make the effort at long last. Five years of 'making it up to him' later, Tilly decided to try out the game her son had been talking about nonstop for the last six months. She slips into Pariah Online on a fateful day, as once more the pendulum swings. X A N T H A: T I R E L E S S G R I N D X A N T H A: T I R E L E S S G R I N D ________________________________________________________________________________________ XANTHA JOINS PARIAH ONLINE.

---

Spells & Spell-like Abilities

Xantha has not had long within the game, and thus has few abilities considered 'signature' to her at this time. This list will grow.

Zephyrric Convokation - This is Xantha's initial skill, the defining concept behind her skillset selection in the game's character creation process. The primordial aspects of Wind channeled into the calculus of Convoking Arcane; there is much room to grow in this, but her sole defining ability of unique merit is this uncanny capability to blend the two aspects of magic into one elemental 'pet summoning' ability. Her Wind based convokations will be superior to her other attempts for the time being. In short, the go-to will be birds or other creatures modified with aspects of Wind, but her gaming history has shown the 'pet-controller' to be a playstyle defined by its utility and versatility tools in a party and this guides her mindset as she begins the game.

Character Feats

As with the spells and abilities, Xantha is new to the game and thus has not had the time to define herself within Pariah's meta-strata. However, playstyles and mentalities from old gaming habits do transfer quite well into the new environment.

Treadmiller
Xantha is tireless in the pursuit of more. When it comes to the mundane aspects of 'farming' or 'crafting', there will be few who can truly call themselves her peer; when this unwavering endurance for banality and repetition turns itself towards the study of more active skills and combat related talents, its dividends will show with time. Things may be slow to start for Xantha, but once the machine of Xantha's efforts begins to chug into motion the distances it will go with time will be incredible.

No Stone Unturned
The natural repercussion of her 'Treadmiller' title, Xantha will be an unceasingly curious player defined by her dedication in the search for secrets and the collection of crafting supplies. Knocking on walls, climbing trees, looking under carpet, and turning up loose floorboards are all things that simply must be done in the search for useful things.

Some Tunes

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

What if instead of issuing a fight declaration I merely insinuate he won’t be able to attend his own funeral.

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

Alrighty, this is good stuff. I get to take notes from you two rambling, and I get to force Fellsing to keep making up a mystery!

....Have no fear, Fellsing, I shall rescue you from this prompt at least temporarily

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

I have opted for Zaraknvyr to potentially be suffering from trying to weaponize his sheer unlikability to be the maybe hook of this party gathering.

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Sheer dread fills Zaraknvyr as Tabiah's gaze moves past him. He witnesses as her expression, infuriatingly, takes on the banality of her amusement. He envisions in his mind's eye the horrible visages of the Bleakers at his back. He seethes over the surmounting impossibility that avoiding them seems to be becoming before his very eyes. His uncomfortable gaze sweeps from Tabiah to Athar. He glowers, then meows once more;

"This female brings me agony, and yet her usefulness shall be my burden. I am thankful to have a reasonable companion in yourself."

He then abruptly rises, and turns to the company of Fyodor. As maddening as it may be, he declares thus;

"We go the same path. Let us avoid crossing blades when greater foes may be afoot. Your lot may join my party."

He smiles. A very discomforting, very toothy, smile. There. That ought to solve this issue before it could even begin.