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Recent Statuses

8 mos ago
Current The way some people spell makes me wonder about their pronunciation.
3 likes
6 yrs ago
They say it's about the journey, not the destination. This is true of many things. Pizza delivery is not one of them.
4 likes
7 yrs ago
TFW you know what you want to happen but the words aren't cooperating. Why is plot suddenly so much harder to write?
8 likes
7 yrs ago
You can't fix a blank page ~ Neil Gaiman
3 likes
7 yrs ago
Neil Gaiman on Friday. Neil Gaiman on Friday. NeilGaimanonFriday NEilGaimanonFridaYNEILGAIMANONFRIDAY NEILGAIMANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
2 likes

Bio

I am an adult, though I don't usually act like it. I'm a voracious reader, and not overly picky about books. I am artistic in a variety of areas, including music, drawing, writing, and sculpting. I have a minor obsession with dragons, and love the color violet. Fantasy is my preferred genre, be it past, future, urban...as long as it has a fantasy flavor to it. I also like scifi, mystery, and some horror. I am crazy, and I like tormenting my characters. But I don't bite...much. ^.~


Color Sergeant in Bot Killer Squad

Most Recent Posts

@Overlord Thraka@Lordofthenight Debating sticking a quick reply in there with Shiara's response.
Shiara Cazarin, bone mage


"Not a mystic," Shiara corrected, thinking irritably of the sham fortunetellers that mazsde coin off of simple folk by pretending to be things they were not. Mention of another nearby made her look over her shoulder, and she ignored entirely the incorrect mention of a town she'd never been to. The older man's next words caught her attention. A corpse become something else? She went over the rumors in her mind, dead that didn't stay dead, rising to wreak havoc.

"A corpse buried on consecrated ground should be beyond medling," she said, though she didn't mean his this time. "But this place's power has weakened -- and by disturbing the dead you weaken it further. I have a duty to the dead, and to the living." As the man listened to his shovel, a strange act indeed, Shiara made her way towards him. The moment he was done she laid her own hand upon the handle and pulled it free, calling silently for Kem to support her. As Shiara stepped back, shovel in hand, her stance was no longer that of a simple traveller but the alert and ready pose of a fighter.

"There are many ways to catch a fish," she said. "Rather than disturb a properly-buried corpse, why don't you let me help? Or else explain exactly what you gain by troubling one that should be left lie."
I might be interested. Although the character I have for this circumvents a few of the issues...she's not human and has low-level telepathy. Then again, since her circumstances initially were similar to the mentioned villain's, I can see her wanting to help. (She turned up in a city and attacked a taxi...with a sword. Ended up getting tased, and it took some time to sort things out.)
Shiara Cazarin, bone mage


Shiara pulled her cloak a little tighter against a cold gust of wind, and sought out the nearest inn. She was a stranger, a foreigner, and thus not quite trusted in these trying times, but her coin was as good as anyone's, and since she let it be known that she was a journeyman herbwoman she received a somewhat warmer welcome.

With a stableboy looking after her donkey and the largest of her bags up in her small room -- a matter of only a few minutes, since she truly needed little in the way of comforts -- Shiara asked directions to the nearest churchyard. It was easier than asking for the nearest graveyard, after all. There would be other places she needed to visit, places where many died, where they were murdered, where spirits lingered, but it would be hard to search them out with the rain causing disturbances on the spiritual plane. There was something deeply wrong with the city, something she could feel even through the cold mist, which made it powerful indeed.

The graveyard was large enough to accommodate the sizable town of Kenfort, the church probably one of the first buildings that indicated the village was becoming a town of some size and then added onto with additional wings in later years. It was beautiful, in its way, a sturdy hulk of a building that had weathered many years and was a testament to the story of the city. Shiara let herself in by way of the cemetary gate, wrought iron that should serve as a spiritual barrier as well as a physical one. But she felt barely anything as she walked through, proof that things were not as they should be.

Not many stray souls would be out in the rain, and sure enough the graveyard was quiet. But there was a sense of restlessness. The imprint of those buried there seemed to be waiting for something, though Shiara had no idea what. "I don't like this," she murmured softly, looking first at Kem, then Sorsha. She lifted her hands to feel the thin traces of energy in the air and frowned at them, only to abruptly realize she was no longer alone.

It was the two fighters from the gates, carrying -- shovels? The sight made her blood boil. Did they mean to desecrate the graves, on ground whose power was already weakened? "You mustn't!" she called, starting towards them. "Disturbing the rest of the dead is ill luck." For all her youth, Shiara spoke boldly, confident in her knowledge of the ways of the dead. Did the priest know, she wondered. Could she fetch him -- and if she did, would he have the nerve to stand up to the imposing pair? Kem's touch on her back was a reassuring tingle. If they challenged her, he would support her. The knowledge made her lift her chin and square her shoulders.
@LordOfTheNight Welp, tried to give you an opening but I guess it didn't take. Let's try that again. *scurries off to write*
Shiara Cazarin, bone mage


Shiara joined the group of refugees as they made their tired way into town. She was a stranger, and while brown skin like hers wasn't unknown in the towns it wasn't particularly common. Better not to have to explain herself, she figured, clicking to her donkey on his lead as they matched their pace to the last stragglers through the gate. Her hair was tied back, making a poofy ponytail nearly as big as her head. The girl had long ago foregone her usual adornments of braided beads and bones. She wasn't in the islands, and the clatter of them in her hair marked her as foreign far more than the color of her skin. Her necklaces and bracelets held her powers easily enough, and were acceptable in the eyes of the mainland folk -- odd, but not so odd as to be frightening.

Her face was unremarkable -- a wide nose above full lips and a strong chin. Her clothing was faded with wear and road dust, but the colors held well enough in the patterned hem of her long tunic and the wrap at her waist. She wore loose pants beneath, and a wide baldric with many pouches to match the belt of pouches and satchel half-concealed by her wrap. Over all of it she wore a cloak with the hood pulled up against the weather. The rest of her belongings were in her donkey's bags, and she seemed unarmed aside from the knife in her belt, though she had the appearance of one who had little to offer potential thieves. The simple worn tin of her few pieces of metal jewelry said as much.

She lifted dark eyes to the sky, watching the pair of ravens wheeling overhead, remembering the vision that had started her on her way. Shiara could feel Kem's presence like a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she lifted her free hand to touch the lump of her necklace beneath her tunic. The other attendant spirits whispered softly, but had nothing of substance to contribute.

Just ahead of her were two people that looked more like warriors than farmers or townsfolk. She wondered at them, and the faint smell of death they carried. Plague Knights, she thought to herself. Warriors, accompanied by ravens...could this be them? Even though she knew better than to stare, she let her pace slow just a bit as she passed the pair. She didn't look at them, but instead tuned her ears to pick out their voices. Something about a curse? She knew a little about curses, but mostly she worked with spirits.
*eager wiggling*
I'm intrigued, but I'll need to know a little more about the setting before I can say for sure that I'm in.
Lady Alyssana Grey


"Three high-profile and possibly relevant missing persons," Alyssana corrected softly in the wake of the Captain's briefing. "Naturally there are far more people that vanish with only their close companions to worry over their fate." The urchin gangs were losing members, and disappearances from similarly disadvantaged groups was not a new thing. "It is interesting that you're finding bodies with such obvious signs. Given the taboo status of such research, most people playing with myalo are more careful in their methods of disposal, to avoid attracting attention. Cremation is one method, or anything destroys the skeletal structure." Some of those missing turned up in an identifiable manner. Many never did. She'd yet to find a good basis for investigation, but Alyssana had long suspected that there were groups quietly operating in Hourglass City. "I know enough about automaton research to be useful in identifying required supplies, and some of the devices involved. Keep me posted on any old documents in need of translation, and the confiscated materials." She paused. "I would appreciate it if you'd ask about interviewing Mr. Elliot in prison. I personally have a number of questions for him." The glitter of eyes behind her mask was cold.
@Lovejoy works for me.
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