Obscene Symphony

monster/fae school idea, needs some work

I'd be into some cheerful shit like this for sure!

What Are You Listening To?

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(link if it's region-locked for you)

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron resisted wincing when Varis yanked him down to his level (and not at all gently - Aaron was starting to suspect that the Count really didn’t know his own strength), triggering both another pang of deja vu and a considerably stronger wave of his former irritation. Yes, it was all coming back to him now, his former horror and sympathy taking a backseat to a good twinge of indignation. He might have been a tad more embarrassed and taken Varis’ reprimand a tad more seriously if not for the multiple tantrums the Count had undertaken over the course of one challenge, but truth be told, with his returning headache, new audience and storm of… whatever raging in his stomach, Aaron wasn’t all that affected.

Silently handing over his remaining glove, he had to bite back a scoff at Varis’ profession on breaking his family’s traditions. Ha! Aaron was sure that every other pair in the forest could have heard Varis tearing those trees apart back at their last challenge, but yes, he had to preserve the precious Sinnenodel tradition of nonviolence as he rent trees in two with hands scarred from illegal in-House torture.

That thought, though, brought Aaron back to earth. Okay, okay, he needed to relax, his irritation was getting a little out of hand. But surely even Varis could see the hypocrisy. Aaron wouldn’t argue the importance of composure, and he’d probably agree that his little sigh had been uncouth, but after all that happened tonight what gave Varis the authority to pontificate on the subject? Yes, okay, he was his master and yes, he supposed the Count’s own shortcomings didn’t change his obligation to live up to simple expectations, but the man set a very poor example for his underlings. Aaron had been raised with the ideal that it was as much a vampire’s responsibility to be worthy of service as it was a mage’s responsibility to serve, but he supposed that ideal must not have spread past the Noila Castle walls.

But he was getting off track.

As he tuned back into the conversation, he briefly wondered if he should suggest that their medallion might be interpreted as a coin of sorts. Of course, that was both unlikely and, with Varis in the mood he was in and his last reaction to the thing, liable to get him split in half just like that tree, Sinnenodel pacifism be damned. But there was no more time to ponder the puzzle as his decision was made for him, Varis generously volunteering him as living test dummy. While he was a bit apprehensive, Aaron had to admit to being equally curious. Once more he cursed Dawn’s absence—it was such a part of him even the illusion had it, and it certainly would have come in handy now—but painted on a neutral smile all the same, nodding to Varis as he stepped forward.

“Of course, Master,” he replied cordially, not a trace of his irritation showing through as he approached the pedestal. With no more than a glance at the others in the clearing, he laid his hand on the skull without hesitation, and vanished.

~ /// ~

Anger. It welled up like fire in his veins, took over every thought, stained every memory like a wildfire through dry brush, but in its wake was something else: hopelessness. Fear. An overwhelming hurt at the things around him, at the injustice of the world, at everyone who let this happen. That it happened to him and everyone else who didn’t have a choice or a voice or any power to stop it. Because everyone before him was a coward, everyone around him was a coward, and he was just weak.

Though it was gone as quickly as it had come. The clearing glowed bright in the noontime sun, the welcomed heat brightening the grass and trees that stood tall. The skull had vanished and instead a tree took its place. Deep puncture marks littered the tree and the bark hung off unevenly like it had been shredded in places. Dawn jutted proudly from the center. It almost glowed in the sun and music seemed to float from it.

“Sorry, I don’t need my boots licked today.” A familiar voice said flatly from behind him. Max watched Aaron, the bored look on his face contrasting the hard set of his shoulders, and seven different colored metal orbs floated around him. “Go on, run back to your master, Retriever.” Max’s armor shifted and shimmered over his skin like liquid but two things remained constant: the magical glyphs on the armor that seemed to flow around, and the gold chain around his neck that glinted in the sunlight.

Half a gold coin hung on it.

Shaking his head to dispel the last of that unprompted little rage, Aaron eyed Max incredulously for a moment before approaching the tree, the sight of his Dawn embedded in the wood even more welcome than the warmth of the sun.

“Suddenly I’m not too upset about being sent in first,” he commented airily, gripping Dawn’s handle. The blade barely clung to the wood; hell, it practically leapt into its master’s hand, a smile forming on Aaron’s face as he balanced the blade with a little twirl. Not only did he get a moment away from Varis, but he got Dawn back too! And he was tasked with fighting Max, if that coin around his neck meant anything. Coin. Perfect. It had been too long since he’d had the chance to get back to his roots.

Of course, by the looks of Max’s get-up and those metal balls hovering around him, he wasn’t about to face the same clumsy kid who could hardly hold a wooden sword back in the practice room. Good. That’d be too easy for a proper catharsis. Though with that in mind, he recalled Max's earlier antics and took a moment to remove his earring and his belt, tossing the latter aside and tucking the former safely in an inner coat pocket. Dawn would still be susceptible to Max's influence, sure, but... well, the reunion was worth the risk, and he'd be a fool to rush in unarmed even if his weapon was metal.

Thus prepared, Aaron slid easily into a ready stance, unable to contain his smile. “Alright, come chase me back to him then.”

_{@Scribe of Thoth @Hero @Achronum}

Of Blood and Magic

The icy look was expected, but Aaron shifted uneasily when Varis followed the length of his arm and dug his hand into his coat pocket, yanking the medallion out and running his thumb over the face of it. The Count looked absolutely livid; Aaron could feel a slight tremor in the hand on his arm, unpleasantly reminding him of the last time he’d seen Varis literally quaking with rage. Fortunately, Aaron could tell Varis’ ire wasn’t directed at him, though that cold, collected tone he spoke in next—easily worse than any scream of rage would ever be, in Aaron’s opinion—ran a familiar chill up his spine all the same.

When the Count called him by his name, Aaron froze, eyebrows shooting up. Was… was that the first time Varis had called him by his name? He admittedly hadn’t kept that close track of how he was addressed—really it was context cues he responded to more than any one belittling nickname, as much as Aaron loathed to admit it—but he was sure he would have noticed if it had ever happened before. His name sounded so odd coming out of Varis’ mouth that he didn’t really want to dwell on what that might mean, and thankfully he was given a task to distract himself from it.

He did as Varis instructed him, though he couldn’t help the strange look he gave his master (not that he’d see it) as he took the jacket. Don’t look no matter what he might hear? It was odd for sure, but he wouldn’t question it, doing as he was told and turning away, working on beating the dirt out of Varis’ jacket as best he could.

Until a deafening CRACK tore through the air, that is, and Aaron reflexively dropped, heart beating a mile a minute. He almost looked back, but managed to still his head; as a veritable cacophony of wood cracking, metal screeching, and of course, Varis screaming, filled the air behind him, Aaron wasn’t sure he even wanted to see whatever was going on back there. He felt something land on his hair (which upon investigation was a large splinter of wood) but kept his eyes down, flinching now and then at a particularly loud noise as he did his best to do as he’d been instructed, until finally the chaos ended. Varis sighed behind him, and eventually found his way back, though with some difficulty by the sound of it. Aaron had to bite back a painful hiss when the vampire clung back onto his arm.

“If you’re done boy, help me get this back on and we’ll be on our way. I’m quite ready to quit this place as quickly as possible.”

“Yes Master,” Aaron replied quietly, automatically, as he dutifully helped Varis back into his coat. He was only half-listening to the Count’s complaints, wondering what on earth he’d just borne witness to and ready to kneel and pick him back up when commanded, when his attention wandered to Varis fiddling with something. Or, rather, fiddling with nothing; he looked like he was trying to remove his gloves, but they were nothing but tattered scraps clinging to his wrists now. Aaron bit back a gasp, however, at what he saw in their place.

Varis turned soon after he realized his gloves were gone, but one look was all Aaron needed. His stomach turned at the sight of Varis’ hands, which had before been pale and pristine just like any vampire’s, now cross-hatched with a terribly organized grid of scars like Aaron had never seen. His nausea only worsened when he realized they morbidly reminded him of grill marks, and his breath caught in his throat.

That was Solaris Pius.

It seemed impossible, but there was no other explanation; scarring a vampire was no easy task, and Solaris Pius was the only way to do so so cleanly, and in such a neat pattern. Aaron was terribly reminded of the illustrations he’d seen when he’d done some research into the topic, sketches of vampires twisted in agony and burning alive in neat lines through the slats of some nightmarish torture box. That had never been taught to him—and for good reason, it was meant to disappear from history altogether—but despite his initial horror when Varis had revealed its existence to an entire lecture hall full of strangers, Aaron’s curiosity had overtaken him by the time he got home on break, and he’d gone to the library in search of information himself. He’d been shocked to find a chapter in a volume on historical punishments featuring the topic, totally uncensored and unguarded, where anyone with access to the palace library could view it. But seeing it here, in the flesh, still appalled him; it was Lady Sinnenodel herself who had single-handedly outlawed the practice for its barbarity, so why on Earth was her heir and favourite bearing its scars? Varis wasn’t nearly old enough to have suffered it in the days when it was legal, had committed no crime besides (at least, none that would be prosecuted) and if he’d been kidnapped and tortured, Aaron was sure the world would have known about it.

So… did she order it herself?

No, that was absurd; Aaron nearly slapped himself for such ridiculous speculation. But what other conclusion could he draw? The scars were new; Varis’ hands had been fine when he left for break, and he’d worn gloves at all times since his return. He knew Varis would be called to see her at some point in the break, and what else could have happened in that time? If anyone else had done it, they surely would have been executed with much bravado, but no such thing occurred. Varis hadn’t even uttered a word about it.

A biting chill gripped Aaron as he took Varis’ arm and led them left of the trees, as the medallion’s chest had instructed. He hardly even registered the destruction; he was too busy being mortified. He was sure he’d vomit if he opened his mouth, so he led his master silently, absently keeping an eye out for obstacles even as his vision swam. Was Lady Sinnenodel truly torturing her heir? Her reputation as a monster was plain, but the Sinnenodels abhorred violence, preferring mental and emotional avenues of torment instead—with the milder of which, he now realized, Aaron was quite familiar. Could her mandate of nonviolence be a cover-up? Was Varis too wily to be controlled by manipulation alone? How deep did his new Lady’s sadism run?

And if this was the sort of thing she was willing to do to her heir, what the hell happened to her mages?

Another wave of nausea washed over him as Vanessa came back to mind, with her back full of holes with a ribbon woven through them and her eyes all but melted out of her face. It was all too sickening to think about, though even as Aaron shoved the thought violently into the recesses of his mind, he knew it would gnaw at him until it was dealt with. But he couldn’t very well deal with it now, so he had to swallow his nausea and get on with things, even if he figured he’d probably be looking a bit shell-shocked for some time—he didn’t know it, but he’d already gone pale. In that way, the maze of the forest was a blessing; no one nearby to ask him why he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

As he scanned the forest for instructions, clues, or anything else that might mercifully distract him, he began to notice that the flora around the path was thinning; on closer examination, it looked like the plants were sick, dead and dying, or stunted at best. He followed one twisted and leaning tree with his eyes for a moment as they walked, and when he turned the other way, he almost physically jumped at the sight of… himself.

Walking next to him like everything was perfectly normal was what Aaron had to assume was an illusion of himself, eerily silent with eyes trained forward. The illusion wore a carefully constructed court expression that Aaron knew well, but his eyes were unsettling to say the least, entirely black like glassy marbles and trimmed with red and swollen flesh, as if he’d been crying. Aaron wondered absently if he looked that unsettling when he covered his emotions with a smile, noticing how tensely his clone held himself and his white-knuckled grip on Dawn.

The illusion didn’t seem to notice him, and peering suspiciously at it, Aaron reached out and waved a hand in front of its face, receiving no response; in fact, part of his hand brushed the clone’s shoulder by mistake, feeling nothing but air and confirming the thing’s status as mere illusion. Impressive illusion, though. Aaron briefly wondered if he’d someday be able to use his magic to craft one that looked so real.

Turning to report this… newcomer to Varis revealed yet another illusion, this one a copy of Varis walking alongside the Count. That one looked more like the original, characteristically impassive, though what caught Aaron’s eye even before the weapons was the dried blood veritably painted all over it. The weapons, though, were almost equally surprising; not only was it strange seeing Varis carrying a weapon of any kind, Aaron recognized the arrows (interestingly absent a bow) and daggers as tools dating back to the formation of the Treaty, weapons designed for the express purpose of killing werewolves. The illusion seemed to notice Aaron’s attention and caught his eye, misstepping a bit as if surprised and silently trying to speak, though Aaron couldn’t tell what it tried to say.

“Master, it would seem we have company,” he finally reported, his former horror replaced with an eerie curiosity as he eyed Varis’ clone. “Two illusory copies of ourselves are walking alongside us, though they aren’t identical to us. For one, their eyes are entirely black; mine looks tense, like it was recently upset, and it has a death grip on Dawn. Yours is covered in blood and carrying weapons for killing werewolves; if I didn’t know any better I’d say it recently bit something’s throat out.”

As he spoke, Aaron waved curiously in the direction of Varis’ clone, expecting it to be unresponsive and for its little miming trick to have been pre-programmed. To his surprise, however, its glassy black eyes (as far as Aaron could tell) seemed to follow his hand, and the clone silently laughed in response. “As far as I know, both are incorporeal, but while mine is unaware of us, yours seems to be able to see us. It tried to speak to me, and it’s surprisingly cheerful.”

As Aaron watched Varis’ clone, its attention snapped away from him and to something in front of them. Following its gaze, Aaron found that they’d entered a clearing, devoid of all plant life and home to nothing but a pedestal in the centre holding a skull. It looked to be made of ceramic, but Aaron couldn’t see its face; it was turned opposite them, looking in the direction of—Eris and Max?

His surprise at having crossed paths with another pair was shelved as his and Varis’ clones approached the centre. As he watched them walk ahead, Aaron was struck by the strangest sense of deja vu, though it was no mere nostalgia; rather, it settled in his gut a stone of potent dread, though Aaron couldn’t for the life of him understand why. His own clone freely touched the skull and vanished, but the feeling in his gut grew stronger as Varis’ clone resisted, silently cursing and swearing before training its gaze firmly on Eris and Max and disappearing altogether.

“A prize you wish and prize you’ll get when the demons of others you completely vanquish. Any trick and any way, to win the fight and save the day, you may employ but don’t forget, more often than not it’s simpler than this. A hand you lay upon my head and into others you’ll fall instead.”

Ominous words ringing in his head and unsure what to think of what he’d just seen, Aaron turned to Varis to explain the situation; though, upon seeing the vampire blinking and looking around, he inferred that he must have gotten his vision back for this challenge, and probably saw everything Aaron did. Grasping weakly at where Dawn’s handle should have been, the thoroughly unamused expression he’d been wearing when the night began came back in full force as he gradually realized what it was they were apparently meant to do.

A tired sigh escaped him, and his hand rose to his temple. “Great.”

_@Achronum

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron’s whole body tensed when the tile bucked, Varis’ screams filling the clearing and probably heard far beyond that. It was hard to tell if he was yelling in shock or pain (or both) but it wound Aaron up all the same, the mage shifting his weight in agitation and practically tearing himself in two knowing that even if he moved to help, there was nothing he could do. It was agony, and so distracting that he nearly missed his mark to call out the next tile movement.

Much to his chagrin, Aaron could only watch on in horror as the tile tossed his master around like one of those mechanical bulls he’d seen in movies. Maybe in retrospect it would be funny—after all, it wasn’t every night one saw a vaulted Count on his knees with a shovel—but Aaron wasn’t laughing. He had no desire to see Varis come to harm; Max and Salem would mock him for it, but he only wanted to help him. Instead, he was trapped on the sidelines, forced to do nothing but watch and be tormented by the display. There was nothing in the world he hated more than feeling useless, and in that moment that was precisely what he was.

After what felt like an eternity, Aaron heard a faint thunk somewhere between Varis’ curses and the world finally came back into being, his body along with it. He confirmed his newfound tangibility by tapping the tree and heaved a sigh of relief before taking Varis’ outstretched hand, placing it on his forearm as before.

“Are you alright, Master?” he asked as he led them both to the hole, kneeling at its edge. He raised his eyebrows at the shovel’s blade (bearing the imprint of a hand) before reaching into the hole and pulling out a small chest, only a bit larger than his palm. He brushed it off and stood to open it.

Inside was a small, stone medallion, neatly situated on a cushion. The face bore an unmistakable relief carving of the Eve crest, complete with a ruby in place of the dead apple on the healthy side.

“It’s a stone medallion bearing the Eve crest, Master. The dead apple’s been replaced with a ruby,” Aaron reported, tucking the medallion securely in an inner pocket of his coat. A cursory glance at the inside of the tree told him that at some point during the chaos, his concentration must have slipped, and his Dark Eyes spell along with it. A quick “Tiltoure” fixed that, and he gave the inside of the chest a quick once-over, lifting the cushion and checking the underside of the lid. Sure enough, a message had been carved there, though interestingly, not written in whatever bacterial concoction it was that they used for the other instructions.

“The inside of the chest reads… Turn left at the trees.” he reported. “There are no other instructions.”

_@Achronum

Of Blood and Magic

Had Aaron been corporeal, Varis’ little twirl would have smashed the blade of the shovel squarely into his face; luckily his predicament sent it sailing harmlessly (if disturbingly) through his head, though an unusually slow attempt at dodging did also send the mage himself backward through the trunk of the tree. Momentarily confused, he briefly glared at the bark before circling around to guide Varis out, sorely unamused at how much passing through things messed with his head. He reached instinctively for Varis’ jacket when it was held out, but his hand (of course) passed through that, too. The bizarre image of Varis with his jacket tied around his waist like a school child did help to dull the sting, but Aaron couldn’t shake a certain irritation at being unable to do even the simplest thing to help his master. He only hoped they could get this trial over with quickly so he could get back to normal and move on.

He could still speak, at least, and leading Varis back to the correct spot in front of the halted tile was (thankfully) no harder than leading him to the tree. “The tile will stop right in front of your feet, Master,” he updated before turning his attention to the shifting tiles. “I’ll watch for the one I dug up earlier, and on my mark, dig. There will only be a few seconds before it starts moving again, but I’ll keep you informed.”

As he watched the tiles shift, verbally updating every time they moved, a familiar dread crept back into his stomach. Varis’ reminder of the sign’s ominous warning was no comfort. Even if he did recognize the possibility of injury as a hazard of the puzzle, Aaron knew very well that the fault for any painful mistake would be pinned squarely and painfully on his shoulders, not Varis’ or the test’s. He felt the pressure mounting with each dark tile that settled before the Count, almost relieved every time the wrong tile came to rest there. He didn’t want to tell Varis to dig - he didn’t want to tell Varis to do anything, let alone something that might end in bodily harm! Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Varis knew how to operate a shovel; what if he took too long, or missed, or otherwise made the tiles ‘kick’ back at him? Aaron would never hear the end of it, and he didn’t have any more doors to be taken away!

But fate was unkind once more, and the time to act was upon him as the lighter tile finally made its way to the spot before Varis. Aaron’s heart jumped into his throat as he watched it make its journey - he had to call it exactly when it stopped, no sooner, dear lord be careful - but there was no time left to panic when it came to a halt.

“Now!”

_@Achronum

Obscene's Scratchpad

Emi Ueno

「EMI UENO」

「NAME」Emiha Ueno _{(Japanese: Ueno Emiha, 上野 咲羽)}

「STAND NAME」「Glitter and Gold」

「AGE」22

「GENDER」Female

「OCCUPATION」Student (accounting), with a tutoring gig on the side

「PLACE OF RESIDENCE」Morioh Suites, third floor. Hers is the one with the bells on the door.

「APPEARANCE」

Emi is a decent height for a woman at 5'7", and reasonably fit and toned, weighing about 130lbs. Her eyes are very light blue, almost translucent-looking, though people rarely see her eyes uncovered. She prefers blouses and skirts or loose dresses when weather permits, usually in whites or light colours. Her hair reaches about the middle of her back, and she usually wears it down or loosely braided. Generally, her style is airy and feminine. The most notable part of her wardrobe is her broad collection of sunglasses, covering many colours and frame shapes. She wears them everywhere she goes, including indoors, and makes a point not to wear the same pair twice in a row.

「PERSONALITY」

You know the drill; no need to get crazy detailed though, stick with the highlights and let the rest speak for itself IC

「HISTORY」

- Emi's parents lived in Morioh, were young but ecstatic to have their first child
- Emi got a virus in utero which she fortunately survived, but which rendered her blind from birth
- they spent her toddling years in their Morioh home (this included the pursuit of Yoshikage Kira) but moved to S City when it was time for Emi to start school, as there was a school for the blind in the city but no such amenity in Morioh
- parents held multiple jobs to pay for school tuition and extra medical care, though doctors were convinced Emi would never be able to see
- happy childhood; frequent doctor's visits were normal for her, parents worked hard but still loved her with every fibre of their being
- when she's ~7 she develops her stand, is initially frightened and confused by the sudden *entire new sense* and it doesn't manifest again for a while
- manifests more and more frequently, apprehension turns to curiosity as Emi explores her new ability and her sudden ability to... something related to 'see'
- has to learn to see, basically
- quickly learns to keep this new sense to herself; it freaked the doctors out when she told them she could see and there was still no medical way it should be possible, they eventually decided it was a child's imagination running rampant (even tho she was eerily good at guessing games, ex. how many fingers) and she went with it when she realized no one else could see the butterflies
- as a result of her power, she was able to transfer back to a regular school in her high school years, allowing her family to move back to Morioh and relieving them of the extra financial burden of tuition for school for the blind
- everyone is thrilled to be back in Morioh
- finds out about that rash of missing persons when she was a kid, is glad that that seemed to have sorted itself out but is diligent nonetheless cause the idea of some predator prowling around her town when she was a child disturbed her
- finds out about stands, somehow???? maybe learns it from someone in high school who saw her butterflies and thought it was weird this blind girl could see so well
- is happy to finally know what's going on with her, gradually learns about more and more Morioh locals who have stands, passes on her knowledge when she can
- eventually decides to start a support group for stand users, they meet in the back room of Hinata's (which is run by a stand user)
- well known and well liked in the stand user community

「LIKES/DISLIKES/QUIRKS」

These are purely optional but considering it's a JoJo rp I imagine y'all are gonna have some quirks, so go nuts, tho keep in mind this is supposed to be lighthearted so try not to make a habit out of cutting your own fingers off or anything

「OTHER」

Anything else you want to add before we get to your stand

Glitter and Gold

「GLITTER AND GOLD」

「STAND NAME」Glitter and Gold

「STAND MASTER」Emiha Ueno

「STAND APPEARANCE」

Glitter and Gold takes the form of hundreds of medium-sized butterflies, shimmering gold in colour with black markings. In pattern and wing shape, they don't precisely resemble any known species of butterfly, but are similar enough that any non-expert couldn't tell the difference. When using its active ability, Glitter and Gold can transform one of its butterflies into something else; see Abilities section for details.

「STAND DESCRIPTION」

Glitter and Gold is an extremely long-range colony stand, made up of hundreds of semi-independent individuals capable of spreading out over the entire area of Morioh without running out of range. Contrary to most stands, its user does not need to be able to see in order to guide it. Rather, it operates completely opposite, allowing its user to see through the eyes of the many individuals that make it up.

「STAND STATS」

Stat Chart

_{Power: E Speed: D Range: A Durability: A Precision: C Potential: D}

Glitter and gold is extremely long-range, and as a colony stand, extremely durable, given that damage done to any individual is divided by hundreds and only one individual need survive for Emiha to remain safe. It is also difficult to hit because each individual butterfly is so light that the air movement around a blunt strike (ex. a punch) will likely push it out of the way before the hit lands. However, being comparable to butterflies on an individual scale, Glitter and Gold has no physical power to speak of, and can only move about as quickly as a human walks. Its special ability is reasonably precise, though it is possible for targets to be mistaken.

「STAND ABILITIES」

• Castaway - Glitter and Gold can choose a target (any sentient creature) and combine several units into some creature or object that is visible to non-stand users. This entity, once seen by the target, will overwhelm the target with curiosity, essentially hypnotizing them into following it. Once hypnotized, Glitter and Gold can lead its target anywhere, and the target will follow unconcerned about personal safety; Emi usually uses this to lead people or animals away, but its power is pervasive enough that it could easily lead its target willingly into traffic or off a cliff to their doom. This ability requires unbroken focus on Emi's part, and considerably more energy output than passive manifestation.
• Vision - a passive ability which allows Emi to see through the eyes of Glitter and Gold's butterflies simultaneously. This can present Emi with hundreds of different points of view (they could be compared to video feeds, though it's impossible to know how Emi perceives them) which she can comprehend simultaneously - even she can't explain how. To monitor every view at once is possible, but quite overwhelming, and as such Emi usually doesn't do so for every single individual at once, keeping only a few dozen active at any given time. This sort of vision is quite preoccupying, and as such Emi tends to spend her days in her favourite seat at Hinata's so she doesn't have to worry about moving around or paying much attention to her immediate surroundings. Doing anything more complex than passive observation forces Emi to focus more intently on the individuals involved, and she will become unaware of her physical surroundings during this time.

「STAND BEHAVIOUR」

Glitter and Gold is non-sapient, but semi-sentient and semi-independent, able to stay on course and avoid obstacles/threats without micromanagement. However, more complex tasks or changes in directive must be made consciously by the user. Individual butterflies will usually either flutter around a determined point or follow a person autonomously; aside from its odd colouring, most people would dismiss it as a real creature rather than a stand without further investigation. Being butterflies, Glitter and Gold is unable to speak, though Emi can have it communicate visual cues via focused instruction.

「OTHER」

• Though most of Glitter and Gold is usually spread out keeping an eye on Morioh, Emi makes sure to keep one or two individuals near her at all times so she can see what's going on around her.
• Given that Emi uses Glitter and Gold as a veritable network of security cameras stationed all over Morioh, she has become a frequent visitor to the anonymous police tip line, reporting small crimes or accidents when she sees them.
• Glitter and Gold cannot submerge itself in water or any other liquid; if submerged, the affected individual will de-manifest.

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron all but flinched at the outburst. Call it a Pavlovian response, but he couldn’t help it; Varis’ protests were entirely expected, but his anger rang an alarm bell in the back of Aaron’s head nonetheless. His apprehension turned to muted surprise, however, when Varis cut himself off, silent and still for a moment before launching into some kind of un-aimed tirade. Aaron’s eyebrows crept further and further upward as he watched it unfold, the Count hissing at the air and hurling what must have been curses in languages Aaron didn’t even know into the emptiness around them. Aaron had seen his share of tantrums coming from his master, but despite the shouting, slamming of doors, and miraculous way they always managed to swing back around and bite him in the ass, they were never so… entertaining.

It was a horribly inappropriate thought, wholly unfit for the situation or the task at hand, and not to mention generally uncouth, but Aaron had to be thankful for Varis’ blindness because despite all that, he couldn’t quite stop a grin from climbing up his cheeks. Maybe it was the shock of the whole situation that made him struggle to contain a chuckle, but he had just never seen the cool and confident Varis so damn conflicted. And over something as otherwise innocuous as digging, no less. Sure, it was a pretty grave insult to force a Count of his stature into labour like this, but these were special circumstances and for crying out loud, he was practically in a physical altercation with himself. By the end of it, shameful as it was, Aaron had to clamp one hand firmly over his mouth to keep from laughing - after all, Varis would probably kill him the second he became tangible if he heard.

“Where’s the shovel?”

The shock and hilarity that accompanied the question were almost too much to bear, and the laugh that snuck up on him took Aaron by surprise - he had to clamp both hands over his mouth and squeeze his eyes shut to keep it contained until it passed. He had to focus on breathing again - this was neither the time nor the place to be struck with a laughing fit, come on, the stakes were high and time was limited - and eventually pulled himself together enough to let his hands fall and speak without giggling again.

“It’s this way Master, about four steps from where you’re standing. Follow my voice,” he instructed, ignoring how weird it was to be the one telling Varis what to do. He was careful that Varis didn’t step on the tiles, and took a moment to manoeuvre him around the open door and into the hollow of the tree.

“It’s right in front of you, Master,” he finally reported once Varis was in position. “Just reach forward, about shoulder height, and you should feel the handle. Once you get it, I’ll guide you back out.”

_@Achronum

The Morrison Trail - (A Western Oregon Trail-based RP with Dinosaurs)

Reminds me of HTTYD except old west and dinosaurs instead of dragons. I'll keep my eye on this.