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Recent Statuses

6 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

Casara Talbot


Cas heard the news on one of her delivery runs. Two Guild members were talking, not caring that she passed by. "Do you think he's really dead?" one asked. "Will that Dark Shadows group fall apart now, do you think?" It was just a few words, but that was enough. Cas went cold, then fearful, and it took a moment for her to regain her composure. Luckily she had her back to the two talking.

Finishing the rest of the day's work was a test of endurance and control. Cas couldn't risk taking time to find out more, for fear it would be true. She wouldn't be able to handle that. When her thoughts strayed, she reminded herself that Aloysius was a clever man, if perhaps lacking in judgement at times. Still, by the time she finished she was shaky, and for a long moment she just stared at her phone, wondering what she'd do if it was true. A vague idea had built up in her head over the last couple hours, a suicidal effort at vengeance. She wasn't much of a fighter, and Shakti wasn't powerful enough to handle everything that would come at her if she started a fight in the Guild.

Aloysius's phone went straight to voicemail, but that could mean any of several things. But the police report was more encouraging than the sensationalist media. "Body not found", "missing": those were words of hope to Cas. And how like Aloysius, not to tell anyone -- damn him. Oh, she wouldn't know for sure until the meeting -- "8Pm. HQ. Don't be late." -- but it made more sense than a random train accident.

To cool her head she went for a flight around town, weaving between skyscrapers with practiced ease. She didn't have to worry about being spotted. Air distortion turned into an art form saw to that. The voice of her demon, whispering in her mind for lack of a convenient shadow, didn't help any, but they had a short and rather one-sided conversation on a hotel roof, explaining that the hurt Aloysuis had caused was inadvertent and not by any means justification to harm him.

At six thirty, Cas checked inside the Dark Shadows' headquarters, then took up an overwatch position on the entry. She didn't like being inside the building. Underground and with only one way in or out, it felt like a cage. There was no reason to subject herself to that until necessary -- and she wanted to catch Aloysius when he arrived. It was just a few minutes to eight when he came into view, and Cas stepped off her perch and descended in a rush of wind. She nailed her landing, touching down just far enough ahead that he had to use his own magic to keep her winds from mussing hair and clothes. He looked none the worse for wear, thank goodness, but with the profound sense of relief she felt there came another emotion, a sharp stab in the gut. She drew herself up and looked him dead in the eye. "Bastard," she hissed, before turning on her heel and heading inside before him.
@Hellion I've been told August for time of year.
Seeing Finnegan in such a state hurt more than Alyssana expected. She hated seeing anyone when their mind betrayed them. He did this to others, she reminded herself sternly. He reaps only what he himself has sown. And yet he looked so pitful, fumbling for words, that it was hard to keep from feeling for him.

Walter mentioned a murder, and Alyssana's focus snapped to him, but at his plea for help her gaze softened. She sighed. "Let's find a place to sit down, shall we?" she suggested, turning to lead the way. Once the three of them were settled, she considered the men before her. Walter was fluttering even now that he'd sat down, worried about the state of his brother. Finnegan was acting half-drunk, but at least seated he wasn't likely to fall over. She'd removed her wings and set them aside so that she might sit comfortably, and now Alyssana sighed. "There's not much I can do, Walter." Perhaps if she'd been a little faster, but no -- she was selfish enough to wish to avoid being affected herself instead of trying to spare Finnegan. "My guess is it will wear off eventually, but until then I suppose we'd best keep an eye on him." She paused. "Now...you mentioned something about a murder?"


---

Alyssana waited. Walter was like Chris when her brother tried to avoid things, but she knew patience would bring her an answer. Hopefully it would be a good one, but she could confront Finnegan if that was the option left her. Fortunately Walter capitulated, going to open the lock. She wasn't sure if his surprise was genuine, and decided she suspected not. He wanted out, but sometimes a firm stance was needed.

And then the potion was safely in her hands, or so she thought. Finnegan burst into the room, trying to take the vial from her. He stumbled, fumbled, knocked her hand. She lost her grip on the vial, and while she was fast enough to get herself out of the way of the spill, Finnegan was not.

Alys's eyes were wide, her mouth an O of surprise and just a bit of horror. She never would have deliberately chosen this path, and yet...in a way, it served Finnegan right. "Well then," she managed. "Finnegan, are you quite alright?" Perhaps, immersed in the perfume business as he was, he'd built up a tolerance to his own products. And she had to admit that she was worried -- if a few sprays could so affect Miss Ashton, what would a dose like this wreak?




@HaleyTheRandom@Hedgehawk@SouffleGirl123
(ignore this)
I AM TAKING THE PLUNGE. *flails her way in*
Shiara Cazarin, bone mage


Shiara went to clean up first, though she'd avoided the worst of the muck. Still, the scent clung to her until she'd had a proper scrub. Then it was back to the church, to warn them of the hole in their crypts, and about the lapse in sanctified ground. They laughed at her for the second part -- not aloud, but she could see it in their eyes. It still stung her, not being taken seriously, but such was life.

Nor could she do much for reconsecration, alone, unsupported, and now under suspicion. She and Kem set up weak protections, more like wards than the safety of cleansed land, but between the Cursed and the sewers she could do little more.

The remainder of her afternoon was spent with a meal and the fingerbones she'd taken. There was still power to them, even completely separated from the rest. They resisted every cleansing ritual and ward she knew. Even her shield barrier hadn't worked fully against the Cursed -- a troubling matter, but she'd need more than just a couple fingerbones to fix that. Nor could she divine the source of their unholy energy. Until she had more Shiara would be little better than the dogs Sir Lucian had proposed, able to tell the presence of Cursed but little more.

She sighed and looked out her window. Speaking of, if she meaned to be any use at all she'd best be making her way to the bridges. Night was coming, and with it, danger.

---

She found Lucian calling to raise the bridges, and anger burned in her gut. There were still so many people on the far side -- and nothing she could do for them. Perhaps if she'd determined a method to pinpoint Cursed in a crowd....

No, she'd get there. Not that it would help those they condemned that night, but it would help others in the future...or so she hoped.

A book landed with a flop and a skid before them, and then the apprentice knight pulled herself over the top of the raised bridge. Shiara looked from her to Lucian and back, watching their silent exchange before speaking up herself.

"So what's the plan from here?"
@LordOfTheNight I don't see a need for another character unless you want to bring one in.

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