Riven Wight

Paranormal

Here are some odd ones for you. Not really scary, but it's unexplained:

At the time, I was living out in middle-of-nowhere farmland, on a small plot of acreage. My dad had decided to come for a visit. He had stepped outside for a bit after dark, when I heard him calling for me. I came out with him, and the first thing he told me, was to not turn on the porch light, and watch the shadows.
Now, so you understand the layout, a couple yards from the back door, to the left of the sidewalk, was the garage. Beyond the garage, the sidewalk met with a driveway that led further to the left where there was a barn. There were only two places with light outside around the property: the porch lights (which were off at the time), and a solar light attached to the barn. There weren't even streetlights on the main road. Because of the placement of the barn's light, the garage always cast a shadow over the lawn.
So, as my dad bade, I watched. At first, I had no clue what was going on. I thought he was trying to mess with me, or show me something I wasn't comprehending. Then I saw the shadow from the garage slowly creeping further over the sidewalk. It would inch steadily forward, away from where my dad and I stood, then snap back into place. Then, further out on the opposite of the driveway that intersected with the sidewalk, we noticed a couple of the shadows were doing the same, only creeping toward us. It wasn't a huge movement, but it was an oddly slow one, and just enough to notice if you looked.
My dad confirmed that that was what he'd been seeing, too, and was what made him call me outside.
It was a windless night. No significant moonlight visible in the sky. If the light on the barn was swaying, it would've been a quicker movement, and I believe the shadows would have been shifting in roughly the same direction, not the opposite. If it was bugs, it would've been flittering movements. Could there be something logical I'm missing? Sure, but I still have no clue what caused that, and I only saw it happen that once.
Moving inside the same house, I'd often hear the reverberating thwang of a coil doorstop being flicked, but none of the doors had those kinds of doorstops. I checked. At least twice. I could never pinpoint exactly where it came from, though I had it down to a guess of two particular rooms.
In one of those said rooms, I once had a single waterdrop splash onto my arm while sitting near the center of the room at the dining table. Based on where it landed, I'd say it came from the ceiling. But there weren't any pipes above there that I knew of, and the ceiling showed no sign of water damage. The only thing I was sitting under was drywall and wood. It was the bottom floor of a two-story house, so it couldn't have been a roof leak, though there'd still be the curiosity of there being no visible signs of water above me. All the windows were closed. I hadn't been drinking anything, nor had my hair or hands been wet. The spot was far enough out from my body, and I'd been looking down at my phone, so I didn't drool on myself (hey, gotta consider everything). So that's another unexplained mystery to think about.
Maybe it was all just a trick of the senses. Maybe I missed something in my debunking. Or maybe it was something paranormal. I'll probably never know now.

President Lincoln

Well, I mean, if you can be a vampire slayer, a roleplayer isn't much of a leap.

Many welcomes from my silent corner of shadows! ^.^

Changing Your Username?

I vaguely remember this was a thing at some point, but I can't remember where or how to request it. I've been away for quite a while, but in thinking about trying to be more active on here again (I MISS ROLEPLAYING HERE, SO MUCH!), I also started to think it would be nice to change my username to a different online alias, since I want to stop using this particular one (it's based off of a self-insert character of mine, whose name wound up semi-recently getting changed).

That said, is the ability to change a username still a thing? And does anyone know how I go about doing it? If there isn't any way to do that, thanks for taking the time to read this, anyway!

Have a good one!

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Gardale

Around 7:45 p.m.

No matter how many Curse-run cities she visited, she would never get used to the stench. Even on the outskirts, the rotten twang of old meat soured the sweetness of baked goods. Perfumes and flowers mingled with decay, sweat, and sewage.
Elayra crouched behind a low, crumbling stone wall. It had once marked the boundaries of the magic field of the town’s defenses. Now, it was just another withering reminder of what once had been.
With no need to hide, Drust stood beside her, scanning the decrepit one- and two-story homes at the edges of town. Other, taller buildings towered behind them in the town's depths.
Bits of the color and architecture hinted that they were once proud things. Now, time had eaten at them, and the denizens had taken to using whatever was laying around to make repairs.
Across the weed-choked lawn, half of a wall of the house in front of Elayra had fallen victim to a said repair. Cracked mirrors and piano keys were mounted into oddly pinkish mortar. Some of the sharp edges of the glass stuck out dangerously like quills. In spots, hardened feathers dripped from its roof in place of shingles.
If not for the whisper of manic laughter carried on the wind, it could almost be mistaken as intentionally artistic, rather than the mindless work of the insane.
A thin alley gaped between the repaired home and its neighbor, waiting to serve as the trio’s entrance. Above, the sun had turned the sky into a battle of fiery colors, staining the town.
She grimaced. They were cutting it close.
The Forsaken were one thing—rabid as they were, they were typically fairly predictable. Dare she even think, easily avoidable. But the Forgen…
“We have maybe twenty minutes before the Forgen get extra rabid,” she whispered, glancing to Ghent. “Once the workday’s over, the Forsaken usually just go home. But the older Forgen are left to their own devices. Remember. If it looks even remotely under fourteen, avoid it. Once we’re inside—”
“Keep quiet,” Drust snapped without looking to his charges.
Elayra’s mouth shut and she reached for her sword. She scanned their surroundings, trying to find the reason behind his command.
“And keep your eyes hidden,” he finished.
She scowled, realizing he’d only been finishing her instructions. Biting back her frustration, she nodded. “If you make eye contact and they don’t see the Curse in you, they’ll attack. And if one of them senses something's off…”
“Hive mind. Any nearby will know.” Drust’s head twitched down, then to the side. His shoulders spasmed as if his ticks were communicating with each other. A growl rumbled in his throat. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Limiting her breaths, she drew her hair around her face like a vail.
“We need the center of town.” Drust’s hands clenched and unclenched. “It’s not far. But far enough.”
Drust gave the overgrown lawn a last quick sweep, then stepped easily over the half-wall.
Elayra hesitated the length of a heartbeat. She looked to Ghent, her jaw and shoulders stiff, and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring nod. She vaulted over the stone wall, then paused to check that he followed.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Unthinkingly, Elayra glanced toward Ghent when he addressed her discovery. She cringed, ready to look away, but thankfully, he’d dressed. Alas, she didn’t have time to answer before Drust neared.
She watched, begrudgingly impressed, at how quickly Ghent dumped the contents of his old pack into the stolen one. She turned her attention to Drust. He stopped about two sword-lengths from the teens. The Knight gave Ghent a quick once-over as the boy stammered over his words.
Drust nodded jerkily—or perhaps it was just a twitch. Elayra wasn’t certain. The dark lines snaking from the corners of his eyes spread outward like roots, reaching and pulling back as Drust fought to keep the Curse manageable.
He grunted his approval. He jerked his chin toward the thicker line of trees. “In town, stay close,” he began, his voice clipped and strained. “If we’re lucky—” He cut himself off with a sneering humorless chuckle at the concept of them being ‘lucky.’ Gritting his teeth, he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other at his temple, and took a deep breath.
Elayra rested her hand on her saber's hilt, making the action look as unthreatening as she could. “We don’t need luck. We have our skills,” she offered.
Drust snorted. “No matter what,”—his neck twitched violently—“Get. To. The. Rabbit Hole. Understood?” He raised his head, his eerie eyes shifting from Ghent to Elayra.
Elayra met his gaze. The black-webbed red of his irises had turned his pupils nearly to pinpricks, the colors at war.
“Understood,” she echoed. She nodded slowly, trying to convey that that applied to more than just his order.
He snorted, his lips curling into a sneer. Not waiting for any other answer from either of them, he strode toward the trees.
Not wanting to keep Drust waiting, Elayra deftly attached her quiver to her belt. Abandoning the idea of taking the necessary time to pull out her bow, she closed her pack and shouldered it.
She hurried to Ghent, grabbing his wrist to get his attention. “He’s giving the Curse more control,” she whispered, at last answering his earlier question. “If it’s stronger in him, it’s more likely we’ll have extra time before the Curse-ridden realize we’re Omitten.” She glanced uneasily after Drust, then looked back to Ghent. “You need to be careful.” She looked away with a quiet huff. “We both do,” she admitted.
She released him, and quickened her pace after the White Knight.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

“Those didn’t come from a dead person, right?”
Elayra only shrugged. It wouldn’t surprise her if they had, but it made no difference. Goods were goods. Though, goods from a dead man cultivated less thief’s guilt.
She scowled when Ghent actually sniffed at the inside of the backpack. She opened her mouth to snap at him for caring about something so insignificant, but closed it again with a glance toward Drust. His hearing was uncanny, and right now, she needed to be careful, with how hard the Crimson Curse was fighting against him.
Still, she couldn’t help but hope there’d be something foul-smelling inside the pack. The universe could at least give her that satisfaction. But, alas, he approved of the smell.
Then, the universe made up for it; pink rushed to Ghent’s cheeks at her observation about his boxers. A corner of her mouth quirked contentedly.
Elayra snorted at his comment about privacy, her gaze firmly fixed on his face. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. ‘Privacy’ seems to end in fire, explosions, or blood with you. If not all three.”
Despite her words, she reluctantly turned so he wasn’t in her direct line of sight. She crouched in front of her backpack, debating on if she should keep her bow at the ready. Weapons were common enough; neither the Forgen nor Forsaken would take special note of those.
She glanced to Ghent’s backpack. While the Curse-ridden might appreciate its skull pattern, it was misplaced in their world. Too clean despite its travels. Too un-Wonderland.
“Put what’s left in your Earth bag into that one when you’re done.” She reached into her bag, rummaging around for her arrows. "Then get rid of the old one.”
She extracted her hip quiver from the pack, filled with blue-fetched arrows, and sat it beside her. “The Curse in Drust will help keep the full Curse-ridden from noticing us right away, but they tend to latch on to… anything… unusual…” Her voice faded. She looked suddenly toward the victimized tree, two-and-two clicking.
The Curse was acting stronger in Drust, but now it wasn’t only because it was fighting harder for control.
“Snark dung!” she cursed quietly. She got to her feet as Drust slowly stepped out from behind the tree, his Katana sheathed at his back. His neck and fingers twitched as he slowly neared. He curled his fingers jerkily into a fist. “He’s giving it more control!”

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

You know, it feels so weird having an OOC chat here, now. xD But seriously, no worries! I've neglected being on here for way too long... And, er, owe a few people apologies for ghosting... I appreciate you letting me know you still had interest in this! I need to get back to roleplaying this way again. I feel like it'd be really good for me--I just have to get myself to do it, and you've given me a good incentive. :-)

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra stumbled back. She kept her balance until the heel of her boot hit a clod of earth, and she fell. She pulled her legs toward her to push herself up, but hands gipped her upper arms, helping in tugging her to standing.
Surprise flashed through her at the assist, but irritation quickly replaced it as Ghent adjusted his grip and pulled her toward their packs. She stumbled a couple steps from the sudden change in direction, but swiftly righted herself.
“Shut up before you get yourself killed, okay?”
“I’m not the one who nearly set the forest on fire!” she growled back, her volume matching his, hoping to avoid Drust’s notice.
She wrenched her arm from him and quickened her pace. She cast a quick glance back toward the tree, Drust’s kneeling form barely visible behind it.
At their packs, she snatched up the one the White Knight had tossed aside. Different colored stains dappled the rugged fabric, some more faded than others. It had an odd, musty smell, but otherwise seemed to be in decent condition.
Opening it, she rummaged through its contents. Though not enchanted, Drust had managed to shove a good amount into it, including a few pilfered changes of clothes, while leaving room to spare.
“I think this is yours.” She spun toward Ghent and tossed the pack toward him, not caring if he saw it coming at him, let alone if he caught it or not. “See if anything in there fits. Unless you like parading around in your boxers.”

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Sorry, been fighting an excessive bout of insomnia this week. Which always throws off, well, everything. Will try to get to a reply this weekend, but if I don't, that's probably why.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Arla’s brows rose at Rayth’s explanation of the hoard. “Someone must have put in a good word for them with Lady Luck!” she interjected as he shook his head.
“Vegas,” she reminded him. “Casinos might be off-limits, but I’ve picked up a trick or two for poker. Used to play rounds every now and again with my best friend and her ex.”
It had always been for candy or whatever other type of snack they had on hand, but it had always been in good fun. She’d never been particularly talented at it, but she hadn’t been bad, either. At least, her wins-to-losses about evened out. Most of the time.
“Uh huh,” she drawled to Rayth’s reassurance he wasn’t the slob. “Sure you aren’t.”
Though a part of her wanted to recoil when he reached for her, she held firm when he tapped her this time, then followed after him. She kept closer to him than necessary, hoping to give the impression of still needing to be near to make him out well enough amidst the dark.
She suppressed a shudder at the thought of him being capable of hearing her heartbeat. Seemed to be a trend among the supernatural; the spindly monster that had chased her had demonstrated its use quite effectively. As quietly as she could, she took a deep breath, shoving the thought aside. It and Rayth weren't the same. It didn't take a genius to figure that much out by now.
The prospect of anyone being capable of enhancing their hearing caught her attention, giving her a concept to help toss aside the memory of her recent misadventure.
“Sign me up for that class, professor!” Arla grinned. “Could come in handy. As long as I don’t start smelling mice.” She scrunched her nose at the thought as they neared the end of the car. “That’s got to be annoying. Do you have any kind of control over it, besides selective… well, smell, I guess, in that case. Or do you have to use nose- and earplugs?”