Momolinia32

Lantern

@Mokley Got it. I'll keep that in mind when I write my post. Just need to find some time to sit down and write it, I've had a busy schedule the past few days.

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Wait, so basically the purple lantern's power is limited by the imagination? Considering my character is a writer, a fictional writer at that (if I ever mentioned that), who has quite a bit of imagination, that's actually a pretty good power for her. This will be interesting to see how it plays out.

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"Eh? You're at Gryphon's Roost, little lady! At least, I hope you are. If we're someplace else I think I might be in trouble with my mem'ry again. An old coot like me don't keep up like he used to, hah?" He wheezed a laugh and slapped his knee.

Naia smiled, partly to be polite, as the man was laughing, and partly because it was a joke. Gryphon’s Roost, huh? That sounded like a good name. The man continued, and Naia looked at him as she listened, until he mentioned the glasses adorning her face.

“Oh, they’re just my glasses. They help me see,” she said. His next words after glancing at the lantern intrigued her. Sun-child? What did that mean? However, before she could ask, another girl interrupted. So he was a captain? Naia listened to their conversation, not wanting to interrupt. She didn’t understand some of the information, but that didn’t stop her from storing the information away for later.

Then the old man addressed her. She listened intently to his instruction, picking up the lantern when she was told, holding it close. He had been nice to her so far, and he was a captain/leader, meaning he clearly knew what he was doing. She watched as the man hurried past the other girl, whom she now gathered was Palla, lightly tugging on one of the fingerless gloves she always wore, as they made it more comfortable to hold a quill with and kept her hands warm during the cold nights when the only heat came from a single candle.

When Palla motioned for her to exit the tent, she began to stand. Upon the mention of covering the lantern, Naia quickly grabbed the sheet that had been wound around the man’s legs, wrapping it around the lantern as she began to walk out of the tent.

“Oh, um, my name is Naia, and, er, I’ve been told I can run pretty fast. But if we’re running, maybe you should save the explanations for later?”

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There, a post! Heh, sorry if it's too short.

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As the man awoke, Naia scrunched her nose up slightly at the smell, though only for a second. She looked at the man as he spoke, listening intently to every word he said, already formulating a response.

“Oh, sorry, I was just looking at the lantern, I guess I forgot I was holding it,” she said as she put the lantern on the ground next to her, “Actually, sir, I’m not, um, ‘Palla’. I actually have no idea how I got in your tent, I just woke up here. I was hoping you could help me and, um, maybe tell me where I am?” All the talking she was having to do was making her nervous. She knew there was no way around it if she wanted to know what was going on, but that didn’t make her any less uncomfortable, the nervousness evident on her face. The man seemed friendly enough, but that was most likely because he had thought she was somebody else.

Briefly wondering if perhaps the cause of his mix-up was poor eyesight, though not coming to a conclusion on that thought, she subconsciously adjusted the glasses adorning her face. Another thought flitted across her mind, that she should clean the lenses of her glasses when she had a free moment, and she hoped she would be able to find a cloth, but she quickly tucked that thought away for later. She needed to focus on the matter at hand.

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@Mokley Sorry, didn't realize there had been a new GM post. I'll get to working on a new post as soon as I can.

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Naia Klettin

Name: Naia Klettin

Age: 16

Appearance: light freckles on her face, arms, and legs; honey-brown hair that reaches to her shoulders and is slightly wavy; light grey eyes; glasses; wears male clothes

Occupation: writer

Personality: Naia doesn’t talk much. People who don’t know her are likely to think she is rude because of this, but the truth is she is just socially awkward when talking to people. However, she does sometimes like to talk to animals, believing that they are smarter and more aware than most people think, even if some people think she’s crazy for it. Other than that, Naia is usually pretty calm and polite in most situations. She prefers to think things through and observe the situation around her before making a decision, rather than rush into something. She is quite observant, sometimes noticing the small things that most people don’t. Also, she is kind and hates to brag. Also, she needs glasses as she is nearsighted and can’t see much without them save for a few inches in front of her.

History: She was born in a wealthy family, but was raised to be humble and caring to all, no matter who they were. Naia sometimes liked to help the cook prepare dinner, learning the basics of how to cook. As she got older, she preferred to focus on her studies rather than attend a fancy dinner or a ball. She also preferred to not wear dresses, claiming it was hard to sit at her desk and write or read while wearing a skirt. She didn’t make many friends, the ones she had not being very close either. She usually stayed up late into the night studying, and her parents say she’s nocturnal, writing by the light of a single candle.

She had just closed her eyes for a second, resting her head on her desk, frustration, or at least she thought it was the frustration, giving her a headache, the blank paper before her taunting her with the fact that she couldn’t think of a good story. However, when she opened her eyes, she was not in her room.

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Naia stared upwards when she awoke, wondering where she was. She sat up slowly, thinking through possible scenarios. Her first thought was that maybe this was a dream, but a quick, stinging pinch of her forearm quickly disproved that theory. Then she thought that perhaps she had been kidnapped, to be ransomed for a large sum of money, but then she realized that they would have contained her somewhere far better than in a tent. If she was to find out what had happened to her, she would have to uncover more information.

The brunette observed her surroundings, taking in the sights and sounds, making a mental checklist of what to investigate. She stood slowly and carefully so as to avoid making a sound. First, she observed the contents of the tables, quickly looking over the titles of the books. After a quick observation of the old man, she moved to the flap of the tent. She picked up the lantern, looking at it closely. The color of the light was very pretty, and the markings, though strange, intrigued her as well. What stood out the most was the source of the light. Naia knew that there were no eggs that should be able to glow like that.

Then, holding the lantern in one hand, she peeked outside the tent, pulling the flap back just enough that she could peek outside, but not enough that anyone would notice. She took in the sight of the creatures, which looked like beasts of myth. Naia, always a lover of stories, listened for a while. In doing so, she realized that they spoke of the sunlight in their stories as if there hadn’t been any for a while. She stored that theory and the stories away in her mind, and retreated back into the tent.

Processing the information she had unearthed, she came up with a conclusion. She was nowhere near home, in a foreign land with many strange things. That realization, that she was seemingly far away from home, far away from her mother and father, far away from the desk and chair she loved to sit at and write stories on late into the night, it both saddened and frightened her, and yet, at the same time, this new place intrigued her, and ignited in her a curiosity that burned like a wildfire. Then the frightened feeling won out as she realized that, in order to discover what happened to her, and where she actually was, she would have to talk to people. Her grip subconsciously tightened around the handle of the lantern, which she still had not realized was still in her hand.Pulling herself together, she walked over to the mattress, where the old man slept, and kneeled down.

“Um, excuse me, sir? Uh, hello?” she said, trying to wake him up, hoping he could help her. Her voice, though normal volume, seemed quiet and nervous, but clear.

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Um, I'm interested!

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Illusion sounds cool!