NoriWasHere

Nori And Her Stuff

.

Nori And Her Stuff

“Ignis,” Eros shouted as he reached across the Obsidian hall with a hand stretched out trying to grab his friend. Yet, it was too little too late as Ignis was pulled across the hall and towards Malakith, and his symphony filled with heralds. Eros took a step back as the anger that filled his eyes slowly gave way to confusion before that too gave way to sadness.

“Alaria what do we do?” Eros asked as he looked back. She was in the middle of her protection song, her fingers becoming raw from the sheer amount of music she’s had to play. Alaria did not respond as she continued playing. Eros looked back towards the front and his eyes settled on Ignis. He was on the ground now, his back pressed downward by the darkness of the maestro's hand. The Maestro opened its mouth and began to sing its incomprehensible song, causing the entire area to shake violently. The song continued for several seconds before the maestro rose back up. The chains that binded him had begun to fail, and it was only a matter of time very he ripped himself free of them. A second later, Ignis began to clap his hands and applaud. “ALARIA,” Eros shouted as he took a step back. Ignis began to stand up, turning around as he did, and faced the group. His red face bore the tell tale signs of corruption as black tendrils began to snake under his skin.

“WHAT DO WE DO-,” Eros started but stopped as he turned and saw the Fates behind his friend. They were whispering in her ear, guiding her hand with a new song, and each had their eyes locked on Malakith. “Alaria..” Eros started as he lowered his guard.

“It’s okay, my friend,” Alaria said as tears began to stream down her face, “we can still seal him. We can buy the fates more time” Alaria finished as she began to pluck the strings.

“How much-“ Eros paused as he looked back at Ignis. Ignis had retrieved his weapon and had begun to walk towards the remaining two fated. “I can hold him off for a bit, how long do the fates need?”

“Years,” Veidia whispered to Eros, her voice in guts head alone.

“Centuries,” Chrona responded with a sad tone.

“More.” Eclipses finished as she pulled at invisible fate strings around them.

“We’re going to lock him in here Eros,” Alaria spoke in a singsong tone, “we’re going to finish the mission.”

Eros felt his mind grow cloudy, his strength begin to falter, and a deep desire to lay down and embrace the eternal sleep began to fill his waking thoughts. “I guess that means that I won’t be able to do my hero’s whoring then,” Eros joked as he turned to face Malakith. He knew what was happening. He never considered the possibility of it, nor did he know exactly what the fates were doing. But something in his mind told him that he and Alaria were about to die. And that this moment was Fated. “Oi, you’re a proper cunt for taking my friends.. You’ve lost to the fated five once,” Eros paused as he felt the strength fall away from his legs, “and you’ve lost to them again.”

Eros fell to the ground and as he hit the ground he was gone. Alaria too began to slump over but she continued the song. Alaria rested her eyes on Eros before she shifted them to get corrupted friends and gave them one final smile. Eventually her music slowed as did her breathing before she too found herself on the ground next to Eros.

Malakith chuckled in response. He looked out and saw only victory here today. Three of the fated five had joined his symphony, and the remaining two were about to be dead. What ploy were they working on, what did the fates whisper to them? A second later the chains that bound him pulled taught. He watched as stands of fate itself made its way into the metal itself, blessing them and making them fated. What’s more, these fated strands were powerful. The maestro began to feel weakened, tired, and ready to sleep as well. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“A year, a century, or eons more time will free me forevermore,” he laughed as he commanded his heralds to sleep. The chains that bound him pulled themselves tighter, and tighter, and tighter until each of his limbs were locked into place. The dull red glow of the maestro went dark, bringing himself, the heralds, and the fated five into darkness.

Deep within the heart of the desolate mountain, The Maestro lay bound in chains. Its ancient and powerful form is bound by enchanted restraints. The cavernous chamber echoed with a low hum, the very essence of the mountain pulsating with latent magic. The air was thick with the weight of centuries, and the only light emanated from the glow of mystical runes etched into the walls. Various golden strands of fate wove their way up and across the metal of the chains that bound The Maestro, and these golden strands had begun to dull in intensity.

As another tremor shook the cavern, The Maestro stirred from his seemingly eternal slumber. His eyes flickered with renewed vitality. The chains that bound him rattled with an echoing resonance as the mountain itself seemed to respond to his awakening. The Maestro shifted his vision to one chain in particular, and a rumbling laugh shook the area as a rock had fallen and broken a link. Without the enchantments of the fates, The Maestro was able to free the hand from its containment and he stretched it out in front of his face. A smile equal parts wicked and alluring spread across his face. He began to slowly raise the hand, palm open to the roof, and as he did The Maestros' music began to play once again. It was a silent symphony, with the music beyond the ability of our collective understanding but the power behind the composition was felt as the mountain rocked with another quake. It was a fraction of his power, but it was enough for him to begin his plot for freedom.

The Maestro raised his hand further, causing a red glow to fill the area around him revealing seven statues kneeling in front of his form. As he raised his hand even further, several tendrils formed in his palm and they shot out across the cavern and impacted the stone figures, burrowing deep as they hit. The red glow that emanated from The Maestro raced down the tendrils and began to fill the stone figures from the inside out. In a moment, the figures began to move. The stone cracked, letting arms and legs move freely of their prison, and within a minute the seven figures stood up, each with a wicked smile on their face.

“My most vocal heralds,” The Maestro spoke. His voice was somewhere between a thousand individual whispers and a full choir singing. “It is time to spread my music once more, you must return,” he paused as he raised his hand even higher, bringing the unheard music to a level that vibrated the entire area, shaking even more rocks free from above. As it reached its crescendo, two portals opened up behind the heralds. “Igai, Agor, venture forth. The realm yearns for our music, play it for them once more. Spread my influence, my whispers on the wind," The Maestro commanded, his voice a sinister lullaby. "Let the Fates know that I have awoken."

With that, the two heralds got up and vanished through the portal, leaving The Maestro and the remaining five heralds in his dark chamber. The echoes of their departure lingered, and as the last portal closed, The Maestro began to hum an eerie tune – a haunting melody that resonated within the very essence of the shadows. The cavern responded to his song, the stones humming in harmony with The Maestro's malevolent melody as he began to envision a world under his rule, a world where everyone listened to his symphony and a world where the fates were forced to. The remaining five heralds began to swing their weapons at the thousands of chains that bound him. Their magic was weakened by the broken link, and they weakened further with each subsequent blow.

“Mom, I saw something I swear,” a young girl pleaded as she cuddled up next to her mother.

“Honey, you can stay in bed with us tonight,” the mother smiled. This was a nightly occurrence for the small five year old child. The parents would put her to bed, they would turn out the lights, they would lay down, and then fifteen minutes later the child would come in because they saw a monster in the dark. “Eventually you will never see these monsters again, they are remnants of an old terror called Malakith,” the mother paused as she looked over to the husband and winked. The husband smiled, shook his head, and rolled over in the bed.

“Malakith?”

“The Maestro,” The mother responded.

“What’s a maestro?” The child asked.

The mother frowned as she thought for a second. Maybe she chose the wrong story to tell this night. “It’s a guy who composes music,” the mother guessed, “anyway, the maestro was an evil force that came to our world many years ago. His music was evil, and it filled the children with a fear of the darkness, made them see monsters in it that weren’t there. The monster was defeated, by a group of hero’s known as the five fated, and his monsters were banished from our world forever.”

“In the shadows deep, where darkness creeps,
Lurks Malakith, where the blackness seeps.
But fear not, dear child, for he's not all bad,
In the darkest corners, there's light to be had.
He may wear a cloak of night so cold,
But even evil has stories untold.
For in the end, even darkness can spark,
A glimmer of hope in the deepest dark.”

The mother looked over to the father, who had decided to chime in with a rhyme. Everyone in this village knew the story of the maestro, though what they did not know was just how off they were. To the children, this story was meant to show them that the dark held no monsters while they were safe behind their walls, inside their homes, even though the story and rhyme were originally meant to tell the heroic tale of the fated five. Time has a funny way of changing things.

“So, there’s no monsters in the dark?”

“None,” the parents responded in unison.

*knock*

The sound of a fist delivering a singular knock at the door. The parents looked at each other, and the father reached down and grabbed his sword.

*knock*

The sound of an individual waiting for them outside. The father stood up and walked to the main room of the house. The mother looked at the daughter and smiled, though her eyes betrayed her worry.

*creak*

The sound of the front door opening, with the father asking who’s there. A quiet followed, but a low hum soon filled it. It was jovial, it was happy, but for some reason it was a sound that defied definition. Then the sound of footsteps approaching from the door. A second later the father returned, black tendrils of corruption snaking across his face. His smile was wide, pained but excited, and he motioned for an unseen guest to join them.

“You have to hear this music, dears,” he said, before the screams of his wife and child filled the air for a moment before it was replaced by all three humming together, and the sound of footsteps back towards the door.

The fates huddled together in their realms. Around them was a frozen forest, with broken trees and snow-covered fields surrounding them. In the distance, a wolf howls at the moon. Throughout the area golden strands of fated thread run over and across the landscape. These fated threads represented much to the fates. Where they converged represented the centers of life, cities and forests and places of the sort, and where they did not cover was the deserts, the tundras, and the volcanic fields where life did not thrive.

The three fates jerked their heads at once to the side. Two convergence points, one in the Empire of Man and a second in the Silvermoor realm, began to shift in color. The golden stands began to adopt a red hue. The fates scurried together and ran from one point to the next. The heralds had started their conquests, and the fates needed their champions to counter. Veidia reached out and began snatching the threads off to their sides before she channeled her magic into the threads. All across Eldoria people, creatures, and events began to make subtle changes.

“The fated are ready,” Veidia spoke as she grabbed several fated stands and held them up to view.

“They will face much trouble,” Chrona responded as she grabbed the fated stands, examining them closely.

“The Maestro has been busy,” Eclipsis responded as she grabbed hold of the fated stands.

“Several heralds have been sent,” Veidia spoke as she began to look over the stands of fate that dotted the path ahead of the new fated warriors.

“Corruption spreads in their wake,” Chrona said as she examined them closely. The fate strands that she looked at were different than the ones away from the heralds. Instead of a pristine, golden glow, they had a more reddish hue. The Maestero's corruption ran deep, not only corrupting the victims' minds and bodies it also corrupting their fate.

“His music,” Veidia said with a hiss.

“His melodies,” Chrona said with a growl

“His corruption,” Eclipsis spoke softly. Eclipsis used her fated magic to lift the fated strands into the air, and then used the magic as she started twisting the various strands together into a single rope. The end of the rope remained imperfect, with each fated strand still sticking out in its own, however from this point on the fated fellowship would be drawn to each other. Whether through luck, outside interference, or the actions of the fated they would be together before long.

“They will fight,” Veidia said as she examined the corruption in the fate strands.

“They will save,” Chrona responded as she examined them closer.

“And they will purge this corruption,” Eclipsis said as she tried to cut the blighted strand, yet her blade could not cut through.

“We need them together,” Veidia spoke with excitement.

“After some time apart,” Chrona said with a neutral tone.

“And after they meet,” Eclipsis responded with sadness.

“They must finish what they started,” Veidia spoke with sadness

“Our Fated Five,” Chrona continued with her neutral tone

“Our departed friends,” Eclipsis finished sharply.

Veidia resumed the process of pulling together various other threads of fate and began to use her magic to influence the world outside. Winds would blow, factions would fight, and despair would befall the lands. This plight will be like beacons in the dark for the new fated champions. They will be drawn to these areas of fated energy, and they will have many decisions to make as they traverse them. Will they save those in trouble, and begin the process of etching their names onto the legend of this reality? Or will they ignore it and simply try and face the heralds of Malakith on their terms? Regardless of how they go about these next few weeks, they will be drawn to two towns, Dalvinwood in the west, and Nightingale Thicket in the east. As each day passes, the Fates know that more monstrous creatures will await them as the Maestro's music spreads unchecked.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

From @fernstone and I! The demon that Britney, Lila, and Lynn summoned

The Stealer Of Joy

Razgoy.Stealer of joy

????? | Razgoy “Skelly” | They/Them

---

" I’m not here to kill you, I’m just going to take all that brings you joy."

Description:

Skelly is a horror that was brought to our universe when Britney, Lila, and Lynn accidentally performed a summoning one drunken night. They are old, and it is unknown just how old they truly are. They take the form of a skeleton though it is unlike any that is known in our universe. They have four arms with none attached to their body, instead it appears as though they are levitating. Their body is mostly bones however visible muscle sinew is present across it. Their head is the most visibly distinct, with white tendrils flanking what appears to be a visible brain that gives off light. Their most demonic features are their eyes which look like two lanterns ablaze in a dark, soulless expanse.

Razgoy was formed from the emotions of one of their universe's very first serial killers. They took a particular joy in making a game or of their killings, and when they died the joy in this suffering created Razgoy. Ever since then they have been hunting targets, individuals or pairs, and bringing a specific brand of misery. They will fight their targets, steal their most prized possessions, ruin their special moments, remove their ability to seek help, and slowly corrupt their target, stealing every emotion but rage. Once they’re at this final stage, they will force a final confrontation to seal the kill. Their current targets are Jasper Wilde and Luca Oliviera.

Abstraction:

Apparition - Razgoy The Stealer Of Joy
Razgoy is an apparition with a love of dramatic flair, and comedic timing. Razgoys powers are focused on isolation, stealth, and creating opportunities that it can later exploit. At the end of the day they are a hunter, a stalker, and a fearsome foe to be chased by.

Mark: Razgoy marks up to two targets at a time. They will search an area for individuals who are, by and large, filled with joy. Happy people, joyful people, and people filled with emotions that are in a sense happy. They will mark them, putting them under their spell. Once marked, Razgoy will begin to hunt their marks periodically. They won’t show up every day, but they could show up every hour of a single day. They’ll show up at times of happiness, drawing their marks into a rage through a fight or by stealing an item or both. Then, they’ll slip away before the fight can turn against him.

Silent hunt: There is nothing Razgoy hates more than a ruined hunt. As such, they will prevent their marks from seeking outside help through this spell. If a mark tries to speak, write, or communicate in any form that they are being attacked the mark will be forced to lie in increasingly bizarre ways.

Stealthy hunter: Razgoy knows where you’re at, and they know when you’re happy. It has the ability to know where the mark is at all times, and it can tell when they’re happy. It will wait for the right time in these moments of bliss before they make their move and teleport in. Often it will wait, unseen and unheard, in the same area of the marks. They might let them have a moment of happiness before it strikes, or it might ruin it then and there.

Stealer of joy: As the hunt progresses, Razgoy will begin to steal more and more of their targets positive emotions. Soon, these once joyful individuals will be filled with nothing but rage and a seething anger towards a monster they can never describe. Once they reach this stage Razgoy will finish the hunt, kill the marks, and begin anew.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

Luca’s Place

---

---

Jasper wished them a good night before he and Luca drove back to Jasper’s place. He spent a total of fifteen minutes inside, emerging with various painting supplies, canvas, fresh herbs and other food items, and a backpack filled with his clothes and other hygiene supplies.

After another drive, and three trips through the elevator, Jasper finally fell down onto a chair and exhaled. ”Bro,” he paused as he slicked back his hair with the sweat that covered his forehead, ”I need to pack lighter for the boys slumber party.,”. Jasper looked over to Luca and smiled. ”So, I brought stuff to make us something for food, what’s your protein of choice? I got beef and chicken,”

”It’s all the art supplies, you gotta be less creative,” Luca laughed. Thankfully the livingroom was large enough that Jasper would be able to set up in there, while Luca would still have his little corner to work in while avoiding damaging anything. ”Hmm… Beef! Olivia once made this chicken thing thay looked amazing but gave us both food poisoning. I’ve never been able to look at chicken the same way since.”

”Beef it is,” Jasper paused as he grabbed the raw meat placed it on the counter. He went over to the sink, rolled up his sleeve, and washed his hands. “We’re going to work with what I had, and you have, and from what I’m seeing I can whip up some mean enchiladas. Not spicy, but tasty,” he paused as he looked back over towards Luca. He flashed him a quick smile. Jasper wanted to avoid anything that could be too rough on the stomach, and he did not know if excess spice would hurt him. “Unless spicy is okay, and I can up the heat

”No spice is better,” Luca nodded. As much as he loved spicy food… His stomach couldn’t handle it anymore. He had to be careful with it, otherwise he’d spend the whole night throwing up or in intense pain. It sucked a lot, but at least he could still eat. ”I can’t wait! I haven’t had enchiladas in a long time. Uh, if there’s anything you need help with, just let me know?”

”Oh of course,” Jasper started as the memory of the day rentered his mind. ”I’ll tell you what, we both need showers after all that tear gas. You want to catch the first, I’ll prepare the food and get it in the oven and then we’ll switch, you’ll watch over the food in the oven and I’ll get clean? You’ll just need to take it out when it’s ready.”

”Oh yeah…” Luca had honestly forgotten he was still coated in tear gas, because the light burning sensation wasn’t much different from normal. But it’d be good to get it off. ”Sounds like a plan, I’ll jump in then!”

With a grin, Luca went into his room. He came back out with a plastic bag, which he’d stuffed his towel and change of clothes in. With a, ”I won’t be long,” he went into the bathroom - situated between his bedroom and Olivia’s. The sound of the shower turning on spilled through the door, followed by some very off pitch singing. Luca took a bit longer than he’d expected, having to carefully scrub the tear gas off his skin without tearing it along with washing it all out of his hair. He’d taken almost half an hour by the time he came out, changed into a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants riddled with holes.

”Shower’s all yours! Just be careful, there’s a few loose tiles in the wall. Wouldn’t want them falling on you or anything.”

“Perfect,” Jasper said as he closed the door to the oven, “I have the timer on there microwave set for thirty minutes, and that clock starts ticking now.” he paused as he returned to the sink to wash his hands. “I’ll be out in a second,” Jasper finished as he grabbed his backpack and headed for the shower. The shower was already hot and he could have stayed under the torrent of warmth forever, but the sound of the timer going off back in the kitchen drew him back to the time constraints. He finished his shower, dressed himself in a baggy Nike sweatpants and a v-neck t-shirt before he exited the room and rejoined Luca.

“How’s are we looking?”

”Good!” Luca was crouching a little bit away from the oven, squinting to look through the glass on the door. He very carefully opened the door, immediately bombarded by the hot steam. He grabbed a nearby kitchen towel and, concentrating hard on keeping as much of his decaying under control as he could, he pulled the dish out. He very quickly put it up on the counter and backed away, before he started decaying any vegetables in it. ”It smells amazing, wow, I should’ve invited you to stay over way earlier.”

Jasper laughed as he sat down on a stool and spun himself the rest of the way to face Luca. “You’re too kind. So! While that settles, what should the itinerary for the boys slumber party be? I know! After we eat I’ll paint your portrait. Nothing too fancy but I noticed you don’t have a lot of photos around. A nice painting or two would liven this place up. Then, we can just see where the vibes take us.“ Jasper paused as he smelled the aroma coming off the food. It did turn out well from what he could tell by the smell alone. He wasn’t the best cook in the world but he’s learned to be at least a decent one, and he knew that fresh ingredients made the difference.

”If I'd known you were gonna paint me I would've worn my Sunday best,” Luca laughed. He got out a couple of plates, a spoon for server and cutlery - normal metal stuff (kept in a plastic bag) for Jasper, and plastic for himself. The good smelled amazing, and he couldn't wait to dig in to a proper meal. ”I never bothered to decorate the place because paper doesnt tend to last long around me… but if you put the painting up high enough I probably wont affect it!”

“No this is perfect, it’s a character study into the man that they called..” Jasper paused as the evilest grin he could summon spread across his face, the moment finally arrived where he could use the best thing he had ever heard, “baby.”

Luca froze, forkful of enchilada near his mouth. Thank god he hadn’t started eating, because he would have choked. His cheeks turned red and he dropped his fork, a little bit of him dying inside. Since nobody had commented about it before he’d hoped they hadn’t seen, or had somehow forgotten it! ”Pleassseee, no, that was so embarrassing! I have never, in my life, been called baby until today and… ewgh… it was so fucking weird! What kind government agents are they hiring nowadays?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, but all that I know baby is that it made the situation feel so weird, like she was baby bottle feeding you,” Jasper paused as he began to eat some of the food, “don’t worry baby I’ll keep my use of that nickname limited.”

”You’ve already called me it twice,” Luca shook his head, putting on an exaggerated upset expression. He wasn’t actually upset, of course. Embarrassed, sure, but it wasn’t like he’d been the one to initiate the whole thing. He shovelled some food into his mouth… and it was fucking amazing. Freshest thing he’d tasted in months. ”It felt like she was bottle feeding me, honestly- but fuck, this is amazing.”

“Anything for you, baby, anything for you. Jasper chuckled as he took another bite and he realized that it truly was amazing. “Oh fuck it came out perfect.”

Luca fake gagged at that, before eating like he’d never seen food in his life. He had to eat quickly, before the food started getting affected by his aura - though what happened to it inside of him he didn’t want to know. ”Mm’sho good…” He stuffed another piece in his mouth. ”You willing to cook dinner every night?”

“Always willing to, I’m not the best but there’s only one way to get better,” he joked as he scarfed down the last of his food. Each bite appeared better than the next. “Maybe the secret ingredient is tear gas…

”Better than anything I can make,” Luca sighed contentedly, leaning back and holding his stomach. He’d eaten a shit ton - way more than someone his size normally could, but he needed to eat double just to process the normal amount. ”Shit, maybe we should get tear gassed more often if it makes stuff taste this good. How do I call in a tear gas raid on my house?”

“That’s easy,” Jasper chuckled as stood up, walked over to food, before he grabbed seconds. The first round of food was barely enough to calm his hunger. “the PRA is in our phones, yeah? Anytime we want to get gassed again you can simply send me a text that says something about Father Wolf. They’ll come and tear gas us for free,” he paused as he frowned, “This is America, it can’t be that hard for us to find either..

Jasper turned his focus down on the food and devoured it faster than he should have. As he finished his last bite, he realized that he too was full. And he still had to do all the dishes, put away leftovers, and clean the cooking areas. He wasn’t a quitter, though, but first he had to ask a question. “You want any more food? I can grab it for you!”

”Oh yeahhh, I bet they’ll be knocking on my door if I use the wrong buzzword in a text now. Like this shit was the bomb or something,” Luca laughed. ”Hey I’ve never tried buying teargas… You really think it’d be that easy?”

He shook his head with another laugh. ”I’m good for now! Will probably need to eat again with some medication later, but that filled me up. Think I’m going to need a moment before I can move!”

Jasper stood up and grabbed all the dirty dishes that needed washed. He first washed the dishes, then he put the leftover food and their container in the fridge after wrapping it closed. The, he washed all the utensils, and ensured there was nothing that was dirty left in the kitchen. As he finished, a slight groan escaped his lips. He was full. There would come a time he would need to sit down and take a rest. That time would come. Instead, right now, he knew he had an important goal.

“Alright,” Jasper spoke as he moved back over to his stuff and grabbed a blank canvas square and his trusty paintbrush. He got his oils ready. He quickly painted the canvas black, and used his power to dry it instantly. Once it was finished, he looked back to to Luca and smiled“Pose,” he whispered as he readied himself. “do note you’ll have to hold it for like ten minutes…”

”Alright,” Luca nodded, taking a moment to think of a pose. What could he hold for ten minutes? That took out anything holding his arms up, because he’d end up in pain after five. So he just turned around to face Jasper and leaned against the breakfast bar with a wide smile. ”Alright, I’m ready!”

Jasper went to work. As soon as a layer was done he flipped his paintbrush to use his abstraction to dry it completely. He did not channel any intent into the magic, but it did allow him to advance at a raid pace. Several minutes would go by very Jasper smiled and used his spell one final time, before he put the paintbrush down completely. “That should be enough for now, I got enough of it down and now I can add some more detail as the night goes on!”. Jasper flipped the canvas and it looked a lot like Luca. In fact, it appears that it was the second time tonight that he was able to make a miracle happen in thirty minutes or less.

”No way,” Luca's eyes widened as he looked over the painting. It really looked like him. He'd never been painted before, and rarely took photos now that Olivia was gone but… it looked nice. Wow. ”Its amazing… thank you, Jasper. I don't know what to say! I mean whoa, it really looks like me.”

He laughed, still looking at it in disbelief. He knew Jasper was a talented artist, he had been ten years ago but wow…

”Uh, since the art's done for now, what should we do? Oh, why don't we watch a movie? I have a ton on my computer we could watch!”

“Yes, yes a movie! Tis the season for something horror themed, what do you have? Jasper finished with a smile.

”Heh, I have a whole selection,” Luca grinned. He got off the stool he'd been sitting on and stretched out, before going over to the far side of the room. He pulled a wooden stick out from beside the work couch, with one end visibly rotting, and used it to hit the power button on his desktop computer. It flickered to life, large screen booting up. He plopped down on the couch itself and pulled a small coffee table towards him. On it was a keyboard and mouse with a very long cable, plugged into the computer. It was the way he worked around the problem of a constantly decaying aura - keeping the more difficult to replace things far enough away from him. Once his computer turned on he clicked through some folders, before finding his movie collection.

”Hmm, let's see… I've got the Blair Witch Project, Hereditary, the Exorcist, the Conjuring… I can easily download another too if you have suggestions!”

“What about Talk To Me? I heard that one is pretty spooky, and my friends were telling me about another one called The Ritual,” he paused as he thought, “let’s do Hereditary first and we can see where the vibes take us,” he paused as he sat down, “baby.”

Luca shot Jasper a mock glare, quickly setting it up to download the other two before opening up Hereditary. ”Should we grab some snacks before we start? Dunno if we'll be able to get out of our seats during it…”

“What’s a movie without movie snacks,” Jasper got up and grabbed the snacks he got for himself, and the ones he got for Luca. He brought them over, sat down nearby, and braced himself for the night to come.

---

About half way into the movie and Luca was at the edge of his seat, mouth ajar and fingers digging into the couch beside him. It rotted away underneath his hand and he jumped when objects began to fly around the screen.

”Shit this is scarier than I thought it would be,” Luca whispered, glancing over at Jasper, and then back to the screen.

Light tapping echoed through the room as the mother got possessed on screen. It grew louder, followed by sharp nails scratching against wood.

”The sound effects are really good too,” Luca said, shivering. It really sounded like something was trying to get into the house to possess them.

“Really, really good,” Jasper said as he shoveled another round of popcorn into his mouth. He listened for a second and the hairs rose on the back of his neck. He figured the movie would be scary, but not this immersing. He looked over to Luca and back to the screen. “I feel like it’s in the room with us right now.

”Yeah, like we could be possessed too,” Luca shuddered. A door creaked open, syncing up with a door opening in the movie, and the sounds of scratching against the walls grew louder. At the same time the temperature began to gradually drop… Fuck, the heating must have turned off. He grabbed some chocolate and shoved it in his mouth. A low, echoing snarl rang around the room and set his heart racing. An acrid odour filled the air… Shit was there something nasty rotting that he hadn’t noticed?

”This is the most realistic horror movie I’ve ever seen,” Luca pulled his legs up to his chest, trying to calm his ragged breathing. It was just a movie. ”Heh, you don’t think there’s actually an apparition in here with us… Just kidding.” He laughed.

Jasper tilted his head as he side eyed Luca. The movie was scary but Jasper didn’t realise that it affected him this much. Jasper made a mental note to check in on him after the movie and see if more horror movies were okay or if they would need to switch to something else. “I bet you there is an apparition in the room with us right now,” Jasper let out a laugh, joining Luca.

And then something behind them joined the laughter.

Luca froze, laughter dying on his lips. The creepy, not quite human laughter from behind them continued. That wasn’t coming from the movie. He could hear more laughter echoing in his mind as the Rot joined in taunting him, his whole body tensing. Slowly, surely, Luca twisted his head to look behind them. His stomach dropped and he nearly stopped breathing.

A towering, skeletal creature stood behind the couch, its glowing eyes focused on Luca and Jasper and its barely existent mouth open in laughter. A disembodied arm reached towards them, sharp claws bared.

“HOLY SHIT!” Luca screamed, automatically jumping towards Jasper and wrapping his arms and legs around him.

Jasper caught Luca instinctively, and the sheer shock of what was coming towards him was almost enough to completely mask the sense of rot, he wrapped his arms around Luca and joined in the screaming, his shirt and exposed skin rotting away as he did. “FUUUCK”

Luca continued screaming, tears spilling from his eyes out of fear. He realised he still had the chocolate in his hand and lobbed it at the creature. It smacked it right in the face and fell to the floor with a thud. It stopped laughing, eyes somehow seeming even more terrifying. Luca hugged Jasper even harder, yelling, ”I DON'T WANT TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

“SAME,” Jasper shouted back as he put Luca down on the couch and grabbed the small coffee table and swung it at the apparition.

The Symphony - A Fated Quest

First IC post incoming either today or tomorrow!

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

@Punished GN done! Let me know if any more needs trimmed

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

@Punished GN

On it boss

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

The 317

THE.317 "This place is off limits, take your petty bullshit somewhere else."

. . . . 317 Rich Street The 317 is a loosely organized faction in St. Portwell based out of an old industrial complex just off the main street. The group started on Main Street in a small storefront but quickly expanded due to popular demand and a sudden influx of artists from around the area, and from around the country as a whole. They have gotten their name from their street address, 317 Rich Street. Faith and Octavia, the two founders, bought the property together after a sudden influx of money that has been rumored to be due to Faith’s abstraction. Ever since they bought it seven years ago it has been brought up to modern code, however, the heart of the complex has remained without change as it was vital to Faith to keep it’s unique industrial aesthetic and atmospheric feel. There are two wings to the building and they are connected in the middle by a large-open air community space. Food trucks dot the ends of it, allowing all who come to experience the delicious food of the local community. Underneath the building is a large basement where the 317 operates in full. They offer various services to the paranormal, and their most profitable is the cursed object business run by Faith. They are a group that has a strong backing of paranormal artists and is one of the larger such groups in America. While not every artist has an art-based abstraction, every artist at least has an abstraction. They keep their paranormal dealings separate and out of the public eye during their open hours. The group does have a strict no-conflict policy on their premises and in the surrounding areas. They do not want to be drawn into any war with the various factions that call St. Portwell home. Any members caught supporting any other faction will be expelled with prejudice. Keeping the artist here safe, and employed, is more important to the leaders of the Cooperative than any amount of power that could be garnered from outside groups. As they have grown, so too has their control over the area around the 317. While they are not a fighting force, they are led by three women with powerful abstractions that can often turn the tide if a rival group tries to poach their talent or push them from their space. Faith Ringgold, Sypha Fuchs, and Octavia Wilde are the primary powers in the Cooperative, and they ensure that the artists here always have a peaceful place to create and sell their art. As things have started to get explosive in town once more, the 317 has begun to close ranks and keep a careful eye on every situation as it develops. The benefit of being a community hub is they often get information about the whereabouts and dealings of the various other groups, which will allow them to be ready if any group comes knocking. They are currently in possession of a few works of art that have apparitions sealed within. Their power, and their names, remain a mystery to all but Faith and Octavia.

317 Members

Octavia.Wilde

28 | Octavia Wilde | She/Her[hr//]"Awwww looks like you walked right into that, sorry!"

Description:

Octavia is a short, petite woman who stands at a height of five feet and two inches tall. She has a lithe frame that is covered from the top of her shoulders to the tops of her feet in tattoos. There is no rhythm to the tattoos and most appear to have been done by very talented artists, and the line work, color work, and overall the quality is very high. She has got all of her tattoos from some of the very talented artists over at the 317.

She is the older sister of Jasper and she was present in St. Portwell during the attack on the Stygian Snake though she did not join the coven. Instead, she used her abstraction to help out where she could. She focused her abilities on fighting the Stygian Snakes monsters, and had a small army of them at her side by the time the fighting was over

Abstraction:

Spray Paint Spell Slinging

Octavia has a Red/Yellow Lux and her channeler is her ring which allows her to empower her spray paint cans and activate the sigils they create.

Spray Paint Spell Slinging: Octavia can enhance her spray paint cans with her lux, allowing them to paint sigils in the world that, when activated, can do a variety of different things. In a simple term, Spray Paint Spell Slinging focuses on hitting hard and hitting fast from range. She can create ice spears that fire on a target, enhance friends and structures to withstand punishment, and even summon defeated monsters to fight at her side. When Octavia activates her lux by pressing her ring to her spray paint can it will glow a dull white color. The paint from these cans will spray out and she can then form them into sigils, which she can then activate remotely with her ring.

Ice Shot: If Octavia wishes to use her Ice Shot, she must first create its sigil. The sigil is relatively simple to create, a circle with solid dots inside. There is no specific quality or number of dots, and as long as she is able to create the sigil it will work. However, the size of the sigil will effect what the spell is capable of doing. A small circle with three small dots will mean that three darts of ice get shot out. Whereas a large circle with ten bigger dots will ensure that Ice Shot shoots ten razor-sharp spears of ice. The fresher the paint, the stronger the sigil, and the more potent the spell becomes. She can create these sigils ahead of time, however, this would lose effectiveness before long.

She can further enhance this by making a sigil within a sigil. By spraying a second, larger ring around the sigil she can change Ice Shot into a more consistently firing spell. She can paint these sigils on walls, on canvas, on people, and any other surface that can hold the paint.

Creeping spears: Octavia can also send a wall of jagged ice forward. This wall of ice advances fast, and will move thirty feet in two seconds after activation. This will impale, push, and can even crush those unlucky enough to crush them under its weight. The sigil is three jagged v’s, with the top and bottom one hitting the circle they connect to. Octavia must ensure that there is a clean line where the sigils intersect.

The Wall: If defense is needed, Octavia can use a sigil that is a rectangle that sits inside a circle. The bigger the sigil, the bigger the wall however the height of the wall will always be the size of the rectangle. Therefore, if she would want to close off a passage the sigil would need to be the size of the passage itself.

Solid Support: If Octavia instead wishes to protect someone, she can paint the sigil of Solid Support on their back. The sigil is a more complicated one, and it is another circle with a person holding up the top of the circle. Once again, like Ice Shot, the bigger the sigil the stronger the effect however detail starts to become important. If the person is not making contact with the circle the power of the spell will not transfer properly. When activated, the sigil will freeze to the surface of whatever it is placed on.

She can also use this spell on solid surfaces to reinforce them. A door with the sigil on it might take three to five times as much force to breech, and the same goes for walls.

Sypha.Fuchs

28| Sypha Fuchs | They/Them [hr//]"I hope you aren’t squeamish"

Description:

Sypha is neither short nor are they tall, and they stand at a comfortable five foot six inches in height. They are often found wearing nice dresses, and a big coat during this season. Both her ears are pierced but they’re typically hidden under a mid length bob. They are always found wearing expensive rings and jewelry.

Sypha is a non-binary individual who hails from Boston. They spent most of their younger years on the East coast. They worked in an art gallery for a few years before they underwent her kindling event when a rogue agent attempted to bring a great evil into the world, and was only saved my the timely intervention by PRA agents. With their new abstraction, Sypha was quickly brought into a coven in Boston before they discovered the 317. They quickly joined their crew and came on board, bringing their abstraction and art selling knowledge to the team.

Abstraction:

Sypha is a green lux adept who can use their own blood to either heal, or destroy, a target.

Exsanguinate: Sypha channeler is a Swiss Army knife. Their abstraction is called Exsanguinate and it allows them to use their blood in many ways, but always with a cost. In order to use their power they must first open their body up and allow the blood to flow, most commonly through the palm of their hand. When engaged, or when needed, they can shoot off up to ten tendrils made from their blood and can hit many targets at once. Once they hit, these tendrils burrow into their target where they await the next phase of the spell.

Crimson healer: Sypha has an innate healing ability that allows them to recover from most non-fatal injuries in rapid succession. They can extend this healing magic to various targets through their blood tendrils. The more targets they use it on the slower the heal works. This can mend broken bones, heal most lacerations, and can even fix complex internal injuries. This healing comes at the cost of blood loss. The connection consumes blood through the tendrils in both directions, meaning the longer Sypha heals the more blood both they and their target lose. There is a real risk that both could pass out.

Scarlet fever: Sypha can infect enemies through their tendrils with a fast-acting blood disease that causes a high fever, nausea, and dizziness. Rarely is this disease fatal, and a person can recover within an hour after the last dosage of this fever. This will once again inflict blood loss on Sypha through the use of their tendrils.

Sanguine Slash: They can also use their tendrils to slash, and manipulate objects. To slash at a target, Sypha must first gather and shape their tendrils into a blade shape, push more of their own blood into it, and then it is usable to slash. To manipulate an object or a person, they can impale a target with as many tendrils as needed, and then use the tendrils to pick up and throw the target.

Nori And Her Stuff

The 317

THE.317 "This place is off limits, take your petty bullshit somewhere else."

. . . . 317 Rich Street The 317 is a loosely organized faction in St. Portwell based out of an old industrial complex just off the main street. The group started on Main Street in a small storefront but quickly expanded due to popular demand and a sudden influx of artists from around the area, and from around the country as a whole. They have gotten their name from their street address, 317 Rich Street, which was an old industrial complex. Faith and Octavia, the two founders, bought the property together after a sudden influx of money that has been rumored to be due to Faith’s abstraction. Ever since they bought it seven years ago it has been brought up to modern code, however, the heart of the complex has remained without change as it was vital to Faith to keep it’s unique industrial aesthetic and atmospheric feel. Faith argued that the complex was as apart of the community's history as any other building, and she has worked hard to ensure that it remains as such. There are two wings to the building and they are connected in the middle by a large-open air community space. Food trucks dot the ends of it, allowing all who come to experience the delicious food of the local community. Underneath the building is a large basement where the 317 operates in full, and they have their paranormal services located here, including a divination table and medic station. They offer various services to the paranormal, and their most profitable is the cursed object business run by Faith. They are a group that has a strong backing of paranormal artists and is one of the larger such groups in America. While not every artist has an art-based abstraction, every artist at least has an abstraction. They keep their paranormal dealings separate and out of the public eye during their open hours. The group does have a strict no-conflict policy on their premises and in the surrounding areas. They do not want to be drawn into any war with the various factions that call St. Portwell home, and with the recent gang war near the strip club, they have begun to enforce this even more. Any members caught supporting any other faction will be expelled with prejudice, as well any member caught cooperating with the PRA will be on their way out. Keeping the artist here safe, and employed, is more important to the leaders of the Cooperative than any amount of power that could be garnered from outside groups. As they have grown, so too has their control over the area around the 317. While they are not a fighting force, they are led by three women with powerful abstractions that can often turn the tide if a rival group tries to poach their talent or push them from their space. Faith Ringgold, Sypha Fuchs, and Octavia Wilde are the primary powers in the Cooperative, and they ensure that the artists here always have a peaceful place to create and sell their art. Faith was the founder of the group after the Stygian Snakes rampage through the town. While she was never affiliated with any coven, she does know various members to some degree. Octavia joined a few years after its start and is the sister of current Sycamore Tree Coven member Jasper Wilde. She was never involved with the Coven either, however, Jasper’s recent return has put pressure on her shoulders. That is because she allowed Jasper to develop his talent within the confines of the Cooperative, and this exposure has allowed him to garner much more fame than anyone anticipated. His fame has brought attention on the 317, and attention has brought interest from outside groups. The Sycamore Tree’s recent fight with the biker gang, and with the PRA has made this even worse. As things have started to get explosive in town once more, the 317 has begun to close ranks and keep a careful eye on every situation as it develops. The benefit of being a community hub is they often get information about the whereabouts and dealings of the various other groups, which will allow them to be ready if any group comes knocking. They are currently in possession of a few works of art that have apparitions sealed within. Their power, and their names, remain a mystery to all but Faith and Octavia. Rumor has it they are a pair of apparitions that have fought against each other for Eons, and if released they could spell trouble for any who is caught in their sick games.

317 Members

Octavia.Wilde

28 | Octavia Wilde | She/Her[hr//]"Awwww looks like you walked right into that, sorry!"

Description:

Octavia is a short, petite woman who stands at a height of five feet and two inches tall. She has a lithe frame that is covered from the top of her shoulders to the tops of her feet in tattoos. There is no rhythm to the tattoos and most appear to have been done by very talented artists, and the line work, color work, and overall the quality is very high. She has got all of her tattoos from some of the very talented artists over at the 317.

She is the older sister of Jasper and she was present in St. Portwell during the attack on the Stygian Snake though she did not join the coven. Instead, she used her abstraction to help out where she could. She focused her abilities on fighting the Stygian Snakes monsters, and had a small army of them at her side by the time the fighting was over

Abstraction:

Spray Paint Spell Slinging

Octavia has a Red/Yellow Lux and her channeler is her ring which allows her to empower her spray paint cans and activate the sigils they create.

Spray Paint Spell Slinging: Octavia can enhance her spray paint cans with her lux, allowing them to paint sigils in the world that, when activated, can do a variety of different things. In a simple term, Spray Paint Spell Slinging focuses on hitting hard and hitting fast from range. She can create ice spears that fire on a target, enhance friends and structures to withstand punishment, and even summon defeated monsters to fight at her side. When Octavia activates her lux by pressing her ring to her spray paint can it will glow a dull white color. The paint from these cans will spray out and she can then form them into sigils, which she can then activate remotely with her ring.

Ice Shot: If Octavia wishes to use her Ice Shot, she must first create its sigil. The sigil is relatively simple to create, a circle with solid dots inside. There is no specific quality or number of dots, and as long as she is able to create the sigil it will work. However, the size of the sigil will effect what the spell is capable of doing. A small circle with three small dots will mean that three darts of ice get shot out. Whereas a large circle with ten bigger dots will ensure that Ice Shot shoots ten razor-sharp spears of ice. The fresher the paint, the stronger the sigil, and the more potent the spell becomes. She can create these sigils ahead of time, however, this would lose effectiveness before long.

She can further enhance this by making a sigil within a sigil. By spraying a second, larger ring around the sigil she can change Ice Shot into a more consistently firing spell. She can paint these sigils on walls, on canvas, on people, and any other surface that can hold the paint.

Creeping spears: Octavia can also send a wall of jagged ice forward. This wall of ice advances fast, and will move thirty feet in two seconds after activation. This will impale, push, and can even crush those unlucky enough to crush them under its weight. The sigil is three jagged v’s, with the top and bottom one hitting the circle they connect to. Octavia must ensure that there is a clean line where the sigils intersect.

The Wall: If defense is needed, Octavia can use a sigil that is a rectangle that sits inside a circle. The bigger the sigil, the bigger the wall however the height of the wall will always be the size of the rectangle. Therefore, if she would want to close off a passage the sigil would need to be the size of the passage itself.

Solid Support: If Octavia instead wishes to protect someone, she can paint the sigil of Solid Support on their back. The sigil is a more complicated one, and it is another circle with a person holding up the top of the circle. Once again, like Ice Shot, the bigger the sigil the stronger the effect however detail starts to become important. If the person is not making contact with the circle the power of the spell will not transfer properly. When activated, the sigil will freeze to the surface of whatever it is placed on.

She can also use this spell on solid surfaces to reinforce them. A door with the sigil on it might take three to five times as much force to breech, and the same goes for walls.

Sypha.Fuchs

28| Sypha Fuchs | They/Them [hr//]"I hope you aren’t squeamish"

Description:

Sypha is neither short nor are they tall, and they stand at a comfortable five foot six inches in height. They are often found wearing nice dresses, and a big coat during this season. Both her ears are pierced but they’re typically hidden under a mid length bob. They are always found wearing expensive rings and jewelry.

Sypha is a non-binary individual who hails from Boston. They spent most of their younger years on the East coast. They worked in an art gallery for a few years before they underwent her kindling event when a rogue agent attempted to bring a great evil into the world, and was only saved my the timely intervention by PRA agents. With their new abstraction, Sypha was quickly brought into a coven in Boston before they discovered the 317. They quickly joined their crew and came on board, bringing their abstraction and art selling knowledge to the team.

Abstraction:

Sypha is a green lux adept who can use their own blood to either heal, or destroy, a target.

Exsanguinate: Sypha channeler is a Swiss Army knife. Their abstraction is called Exsanguinate and it allows them to use their blood in many ways, but always with a cost. In order to use their power they must first open their body up and allow the blood to flow, most commonly through the palm of their hand. When engaged, or when needed, they can shoot off up to ten tendrils made from their blood and can hit many targets at once. Once they hit, these tendrils burrow into their target where they await the next phase of the spell.

Crimson healer: Sypha has an innate healing ability that allows them to recover from most non-fatal injuries in rapid succession. They can extend this healing magic to various targets through their blood tendrils. The more targets they use it on the slower the heal works. This can mend broken bones, heal most lacerations, and can even fix complex internal injuries. This healing comes at the cost of blood loss. The connection consumes blood through the tendrils in both directions, meaning the longer Sypha heals the more blood both they and their target lose. There is a real risk that both could pass out.

Scarlet fever: Sypha can infect enemies through their tendrils with a fast-acting blood disease that causes a high fever, nausea, and dizziness. Rarely is this disease fatal, and a person can recover within an hour after the last dosage of this fever. This will once again inflict blood loss on Sypha through the use of their tendrils.

Sanguine Slash: They can also use their tendrils to slash, and manipulate objects. To slash at a target, Sypha must first gather and shape their tendrils into a blade shape, push more of their own blood into it, and then it is usable to slash. To manipulate an object or a person, they can impale a target with as many tendrils as needed, and then use the tendrils to pick up and throw the target.

Recollections: Under The Sycamore Tree Part. 1

NPC's

Jackson.Smith

27 | Jackson “The Punisher” Smith | He/Him [hr//]" What’s the difference between a hippo and a zippo..."

Description:

Jackson is a tall, thin, man with nary a muscle to his name. He typically keeps his hair short, and his beard long and mostly unkempt. He prefers a simple attire, with sneakers, plain jeans, and old band t-shirts. Besides the obvious acne scars that dot his face, evidence of a battle long since won, there is nothing that decorates his face. He has never had a tattoo or a piercing.

Jackson grew up in Seattle and was often bullied throughout his youth. He likes to think these traumatic memories gave him his sense of humor, however, that would require him to have a sense of humor in the first place. He had a chance run-in with a paranormal being late one night, which forced him through his kindling event. Ever since then Jackson has had delusions of grandeur and has tried to use his powers to finally break into the comedy scene. A scene that he does not belong in.

Ever since he was practically run out of Seattle, he has called St. Portwell his home. He is often spotted at one of the few bars that host an open mic night, or browsing the art selection at the 317.

Abstraction:

The Punisher: Jackson is a Pink Lux adept who is able to make friends and foes alike do simple commands through his jokes. These jokes do not have to be good, and often the worse the joke the stronger the effect of his abstraction. His channeler is a necklace that has a microphone. When he goes to use his abstraction, he has to have one hand on his channeler. He can compel people to do three things with his abstraction. Give up, give in, and give it all.

Give up: Jackson can influence his jokes to carry a knockout punch. He focuses all the memories of his pathetic younger years before he gained his power. The feeling of helplessness, the feeling of being powerless, and the feeling of not being enough. This is an area-of-effect spell and can be used to sway the feelings of everyone in a nearby area. This is a form of Mind Control. If the spell lands, it will force those afflicted to throw their hands into the arm, swear at the joke, and leave the area before they can be subjected to another one

Give In: As well, Jackson can influence his jokes to give them the delivery of a lifetime. He focuses all his aspirations for the future, his goals to a comedian with a special, and his desire to be loved into his jokes. This is another area-of-effect spell that forces those who fall under its mind-controlling powers. With this spell, he can compel people to give in to his suggestions. Whether that is to clap at his joke, demand an ecour, or give him what he wants. He has used this power to skate by in Seattle, and it was what got him run out of the city by the local paranormal powers.

Give it all: His final spell is one that only works on a single target. He can use his joke to compel someone to give it their all, whether in life or a fight. This spell provides clarity, focus, and strength of mind to its target and can help bolster emotional fields as well.