Mimic

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

@timelord1101@Overlord24

Zyrid over heard the brief conversation between this young one at the door and the white haired female, an essence of tension between the two certainly. It was often that his mimic transport led to a confrontation, all things considered. Though, he rarely let it go as far as real violence, he held that privilege for the truly deserving. This young boy didn't seem the type, truly evil mockery of morality type that is, not at this age Zyrid would hope.

A flare of magic roared in Zyrid's mind as he sensed the female perform some kind of thaumaturgy technique, interest was growing with her. Softly, Zyrid pulled himself from the bed, his knee's holding their bend for a while longer than most would need, still adjusting to the height. He straightened his back from the slumped position he was so used to and placed a hand on the females shoulder as he stumbled forward - half for support and half to intervene.

"There will be no need for that," He pressed, continuing to both the female and young male "I am no mimic, but I do take residence within one when I choose,".

He stood straight now, a few inches over six feet, and his form was settling. The thread of every muscle and each layer of skin has found its place, and a confidence began to drip from his personality. He often found these conversations hard to end, as people usually had a lot of questions, though he didn't feel like answering any just yet.

"Just know I mean no harm. And that if that dusting female is still ill, I will tend to her myself." With this he took his hand from the females shoulder and sat back down on the bed, his head a bit light. Perhaps things weren't quiet in place just yet. Clasping his head Zyrid rested his elbows on his bent knees and breathed slowly.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

@timelord1101

Zyrid was once again in a lucid dream, for that was the curse of his existence, a constant awareness of things. In this dream there was a constant darkness and eerie silence. From the darkness - which you must understand was not black nor was it a deep grey, simple colorless - came tendrils that wrapped around Zyrid's hands tightly, round orifices clasping at his skin with a grasp of suction. They raked at his flesh and tore away his muscle until only his bones were left and his arm felt cold after the wrist.

A bright light, appearing in the distance or perhaps straight before him, broke this torture and begin to pull him in towards it, his hands now before him untouched and full functional. Each ray wrapping itself around his body one by one until he felt his chest being lurched forward. A rush of mild air and the faint aroma of old wood filled his sense, a clank of metal on glass and the faintest of crackles from a distant fire. A softness lay beneath him, warped around his shape as if built to hold him, a welcome contrast to the emptiness of the darkness.

Something plump held Zyrid's head a loft as his eyes opened, a warmth waving over his entire body as he felt the nerves and transmitters reboot in sequence. The female still sat in the chair beside him, a contemplative look upon her face, confusion also. Were Zyrid a mere mortal he would have felt like both fearing and admiring her, though he now looked upon her gently with a hint of gratitude. He brought his hands to his side and pushed on his lean arm, edging himself upright in the bed.

He instinctively fired his eyes toward his upper thigh, only to see the females hand upon it, he had thought it something more threatening. He realized then that he had knocked it aside as he had swiftly reached back to support himself, carelessly pushing the hand aside. With a quick movement of his arm he brought a thick skinned and yet soft hand on top of the females.

"Sorry, and thank you," Zyrid's voice was thick with inflection and deep tone, a life of experimenting and he had still not settled for a particular accent. If anything he had made his own - vowels slightly elongate in the center of words and in those sentences with consecutive sharp endings, an almost music melody runs between the syllables. He had not needed to speak nor interact with anyone on the material plane for some time now, he would need to rid himself of the so called 'rust'.

Zyrid rested back on the head board of the bed and smiled gratefully with his charming lips, forcing his free hand into his thick black mane to rearrange his wild hair into the pushed back way he liked it. He realized that he had been holding the females eye and hand for a while too long, so looked down to the covers of the bed half mindlessly, shifting his hand to his lap too. His body settled there for a brief moment and his muscles ceased to tense for the first time since he woke up. He retracted the hand from his hair and took a deep breath in, there would hopefully be no more of this passing out business for a while yet.

Zyrid then heard a voice at the door, and saw the glint of metal at someones hips.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

@timelord1101

Oh, stop it you!

I adjusted my post, as I took too long to write it. It has now considered that Zyrid is on a bed.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

@Continuum@timelord1101

Zyrid dreamed a vivid dream.

Long droves of white capped mountains with thick leafy forests around their fat necks, expansive lakes of blue and white, occasionally the waters appeared patched almost, with blocks of different colors. Zyrid could have swore he saw some kind of beast, an elongated and slippy torso accompanied by small beady eyes, push its head up out of the water and smile at him. The birds sang melodies from the branches up high, and Zyrid experienced this all out of body, as if aware of it all at the same time. It was picturesque, snow falling in the distance and the slow tempo the wind made as it forced the water aside, a pleasant cacophony of unlikely instruments.

Abruptly the winds changed and the snow melted away into the white clouds above. Strange insect like noises buzzed in Zyrid's ear, deep and guttural, sometimes shuddering or creaking at intervals. Zyrid found himself sat on a bench by a strange beach, it's sand finer than air itself, his apparent omnipresent-ness stolen away from him just as the serene landscape was. On this beach were a group of men, dressed in a very peculiar manner.

They were all beefy and muscular and their great calf muscles were bare. In fact, it appeared their entire bottom half was completely uncovered, as the wind violently blew around this strange checkered skirt they all had on. Some of them were drinking, others were talking among themselves, laughing and exchanging thoughts.

Then the insect buzzing ceased and a horrible raucous erupted from the beach, from where the men were crowded. They all began to clap and cheer jovially, the opposite of Zyrid's initial reaction in honesty, as he felt himself curl up and scrunch his face in disgust. The noise was dreadful, somewhere between a dying cat and a long, ugly release of excess gas. At the center of the men, now visible as they parted to let him through, stood a man with some kind of outer body breathing device, his cheeks purples and lips pursed to a hollow stick.

The dream had become too weird for Zyrid, so his unconscious rolled him back towards the outside world.

Slowly and as if for the first time, Zyrid opened his delicate eyes, finding himself in a smaller room than before. Above him, sat on a chair he saw soft white hair, breasts and fine clothing - the faint contour of a nose and eyes too perhaps. It was the female from before, with the interesting thick accent. Though unaware of the purpose, Zyrid would not deny a comfortable bed as he needed a rest after his journey through the eternal dark.

Quickly, Zyrid realized that he was stood before the white haired female not long ago, shock to the new body most likely. It had been a while since he had been in this plane, he was rather out of touch with various cultures and their tendencies - be it mating, communication or sacrifice.

Wait! By the all the Gods, was this some kind of sacrifice ceremony, some humiliating way to take Zyrids trust? He thought this was a Tavern, an honest and humble establishment. Is sacrifice allowed in Taverns here? Is this a special room, where the sacrifice must take place? Is that why she looked at him so closely?

But, surely not!

This could not be a mating ritual, oh by all that is and should be, let it not be a damned mating ritual. It was hard enough trying to explain himself to Eros after the incident in that port city, he couldn't bare to stand in front of her again. She was dangerously charming and softly seductive, it pained him even to be in her presence, her curves and various subtleties. Oh, he could not go through that again, for they went at it for far too long, and though it was divinely glorious, he was back logged on reading for a year!

With all these thoughts and more passing through his material brain at the rate at which he would normally think in the expanse, Zyrid felt obscenely fuzzy and warm. In that first 0.3 seconds of opening his eyes from the position on the bed his mind had went through these paces. Zyrid felt his eyes rolling back once again, so in a final attempt to kick his material body into commission he pushed an ounce of air out from the lungs, past his voice box and over his tongue.

From an on lookers point of view, Zyrid's eyes fluttered and his body shifted by the smallest of margins. A spark of deep purple magical energy licked across his finger tips like candle fire and he coughed very quietly in his slumber, a minuscule whisper of smoke rising from his lips.

Zyrid had awoken for 0.32 of a second, then passed out once more.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

@timelord1101

I thank you most sincerely, that means a lot to a creative mind such as my own.

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

@timelord1101

Zyrid passed over the brief five hundred page chapter on heat and its effects on light, zipping to the end of the book just as the white haired women spoke. It was a rare and strange occurrence for him to leave the security of the ring of Lokei - not to mention extremely painful and inconvenient. Though, this wouldn't be the first time he had left the comfort of his library to explore the material plane, nor the first time he had done so for a woman.

Reluctantly, but with a sly smile, Zyrid began to stand from his chair and walk towards the bookcase in front of him. The leathery pigments and occasional golden trim dimmed in color, a shallow shadow of a door appearing among the books. A few steps from this looming archway, Zyrid's form began to shift and distort. His long streaked grey hair began to snake down his torso and beneath his linen shirt, his features momentarily covered by long fluid grey lines that flowed across his now paling skin.

The wrinkles of his body began to stretch and release an elastic power, his skin thickening and his complexion reducing significantly in age. From his now bald face sprouted thick dark hairs, short and standing to attention. His white eyes darkened as everything else did, stopping in between a pale blue and light grey, like a clear water lake over a vast stony plateau. His arched nose straightened into a chiseled feature of impressive sharpness, as did his jaw and previously sagging chin. The plain garments stretched and tore around his new form, dropping to the floor as he walked.

Stood now, a foot away from the dark looming outline of a grand doorway, is young man of impressive stature and muscularity. His perfect appearance disputed only by a deep scar running along the left eye and down to the jaw. His starkly naked body smooth and bronzed in the most natural sense, like expertly tanned leather. Zyrid was now his young self, a previous invention of humanity he had experimented with a decade or two before the present. He had always enjoyed this body as he strolled through the material plane, it gave him a viable edge in comparison to his newly imagined old fart facade.

With a brief glimpse down at his defined pectorals and evident but not overly obscene abdominal muscles - as well as that which lies further down, which was of course humbly impressive - Zyrid let out a contently calm sigh. An athletic build, as Zyrid remembers noting it down during his invention stage, the air of confidence with the slightest drop of vulnerability. Mysterious to the point of excitement, but not too alien that onlookers feel disconnected.

Zyrid could visualize his notes as he took the last step through into the material plane. For a moment the dark archway led into nothingness, no sound and yet not silent, an immovable lack of anything - and then everything at once. Every vibrant color, vivid emotion, sensory stimulus, unavoidable sound and an equilibrium of every temperature all in one moment. Then, as his body was squeezed through a pin sized hole in this plane, his foot met the floor after an eternity of stillness and Zyrid appeared before the white haired female.

Dressed in complimentary tight leathers and silk undergarments against his skin, Zyrid smiled genuinely and gave a small combination of a nod and bow towards the beauty before him. Raising his head back, he slicked a strong hand between the jet black strands atop his head and pushed back his shoulder length hair behind his ears. Hefting his wide shoulders back he cracked his neck. Then, awkwardly, and most suddenly, Zyrid screamed - excessively loud and at a heart wrenching pitch - the journey through the eternal dark hitting him begrudgingly and without warning with an immense and endless onslaught of everything imaginable.

Zyrid's handsome material form passed out cold.

Is world building a thing here?

A PM group has been made, please express further interest by PMing me directly :)

Is world building a thing here?

@Buddha

Are you in or out?

*Aladdin music*

Is world building a thing here?

@ClocktowerEchos

I may be inclined to try.

My setting will be somewhat similar to Warhammer (not 4OK) and just a small island continent perhaps? I had the idea of three maybe four races, possibly including Orc, human, undead and Elven or dwarven (yes elves are more D&D, but that's what I like!

Obviously none of this is set in stone, as is love to collaborate.

Is world building a thing here?

@ClocktowerEchos

Would you be up for it, because frankly, and in the worst way possible, you've been very nice to me so far :) that wasn't a compliment, don't get all smiley!