1. Home
  2. Ti

Ti Member

Kitti

Avatar of Ti

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

In The Hourglass Order → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Event: Act Six: Missions | Location: Ersand'Enise
♫

Ayla had advanced to the next round of the Tan-Zeno process, but the victory felt somewhat hollow. Tannifer had hit a few nerves, and she was eager to prove her worth. The task related to the sinking of a Revidian ship seemed to be just the right fit. Cross-factional troubles requiring a touch of diplomacy? Check. A rampaging animal requiring a gentle touch to subdue? Check. This had all the hallmarks of another Ayla success she loves to do, or more accurately our success. With the others who had signed up, there was Leon, the great performer; Ciro, the friendly merchant; Trypano, the brain in a jar; and Roslyn, who when it comes to anything bad, she wouldn’t do that. This could be a potential recipe for something beautiful.



Taleja walked, the heels of her boots clicking on the floor as she dressed down into a far more functional outfit for the trip and grabbed a travel bag filled with prepared supplies. As she took note of the task at hand, learning what she needed. It seemed to be simple enough to formulate a solution if you removed any unnecessary variables. However, from one glance of her green eyes at her travel companions, it was clear that unnecessary variables would occupy most of this trip.

Though positively with the beast master, Zarina, on their side, dealing with the creature would essentially resolve itself in her care. An obvious delegation. As for Rikard, she knew he was a simple boy when it came to these things, an effective hammer for any nails as long as he kept his eyes on the task. The group's biggest problem was the Perrench, who would undoubtedly use every opportunity to make the situation political and all about themselves. They were unreliable and foolhardy, each of those present already having a reputation for it. It was awkward enough that she had already felt their eyes on her and heard the mutterings under their breath at her presence. Two out of five; she had worked with better odds than these before.



Ashon looked toward the flyer as he scratched his head. It seemed there were those from his homeland with more bennies than sense. Apparently, this situation would be of great import to the academy, and Penny took an interest. It made sense for him to watch out for his fellow Yasoi, as this is an opportunity to create new beginnings and take root in Ersand'Enise. It also brightened his mood to see Seviin here, wanting to help out. Despite her background and odd character, but he couldn't exactly dislike her attempts. Besides, he couldn't leave her unescorted, as he doubted her goodwill would be appropriately returned with ruffians around. He would have thought Esmii would have attended as well, but she seemed to be nowhere to be found.

What surprised him more were the other characters involved. Why were they so interested in the affairs of the Yasoi? Or were trinkets and baubles dangled in front of them motivating them so much? Even more surprising was the likes of Dorothea and her known dislike of his people. At least Xiuyang made sense; she had always been a Suunei, though her temperament had changed a little since their visit to Yarsoc, and her fascination with her 'saviour' was a cause for concern. Another surprise was Oksana, who seemed to be hanging around the academy more, even when her people had returned home from the trials.

Regardless of their intentions, he will aim to preserve his people.



Oksana watched as the man disappeared. It didn’t make sense for her to try to lean in, as she was still working on her letters. The others provided useful information for the task at hand. It seemed a refugee, someone like her but a Yasoi, was engaged in charity work, but some troublemakers had kidnapped the do-gooder. The fact that she was here without any real source of income and being rewarded for her good deeds made it simple enough for Oksana to sign-up. Knock a few heads together, perhaps make these bandits lose a few teeth, and they would certainly think twice about attacking any innocents in the future. She smiled warmly towards the rest, as she cracked her knuckles, not that she heard it of course, “Save do-gooder.”



Maura hummed as she was asked to intervene in settling the dispute in Kiluaho. Her background would lend her some authority in that area, as a judge of all things mercantile. Most importantly, she would be going on the mission with Kaureerah again! She would have loved Penny to join as well, but she was absent in the morning. There was also Tku, who kindly lent her his tusker kites; they would likely prove invaluable for this mission. Marz would certainly have the know-how to work with the various materials they come across and could jerry-rig solutions to problems.

Then there were those she didn’t know much about. Mahal, from Palapar, could be useful in negotiations or as an interpreter. And there was knock-off Ayla, Raffie; Maura didn’t know much about her other than the fact that she loved her cats.

As for the others, she was less sure about them and their motives. Zast was certainly an unsavoury character, a charlatan. Fiske, once an innocent boy, was becoming more wayward every time she saw him. Ren looked like a Virangish Evander, with the snotty personality to match.

In preparation, she enlisted helpers and puppets, probably, to begin dismantling the Schwarze Alice into transportable pieces for the portal trip. After all, for the pirates and salvagers of Kiluaho, nobody expects the Torragonese Submersible! Our chief weapons are surprise, fear, ruthless efficiency, and an almost fanatical dedication to the pentad.

In Tales From the Realm of Laelilon → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
ꁲ ꂵ ꁲ ꋊ ꂠ ꂑ ꋊ ꈼ
ꋖ ꂑ ꂵ ꈼ
Day 1 [Night]
꒒ ꂦ ꀯ ꁲ ꋖ ꂑ ꂦ ꋊ
Lock and Key [Somerset]
ꌚ ꂦ ꐇ ꋊ ꂠ ꋖ ꌅ ꁲ ꀯ ꀗ
♫

Amandine found herself amidst a scene that felt oddly familiar, surrounded by a motley crew that could easily pass for a circus troupe. The presence of the massive, armoured beast-like figure next to her only added to the surreal atmosphere. In her mind's eye, she couldn't help but envision Maltar donning a top hat and large hoop, commanding the beast to perform tricks, with Gus playing the role of the bumbling clown, Budi as an exhibit, and Torsten as the imposing bouncer. Dorian seemed like the perfect ringmaster, and Faline, with her air of elegance, fit the role of the glamorous assistant seamlessly. As for herself, she resignedly joked that she could serve snacks, envisioning herself selling popcorn to the audience.

However, Amandine's amusement quickly faded when she realized that the plan involved raiding the ruins of her ancestors. It struck her as a simplistic solution to a complex problem, one that seemed to prioritize disturbing the dead over finding more practical solutions. "Isn't it ironic," she remarked dryly, "that our kingdom's go-to solution for every problem seems to involve disturbing the spirits of the past and antagonizing the living?" With a touch of sarcasm, she suggested, "If we're in dire need of Dragonian artefacts, why not pay a visit to the Emperor's treasure vault instead of rummaging through ancient ruins? We might have better luck finding what we need there." Her suggestion hung in the air, "The Dorado tribe supposedly possessed a stone that could turn lead into gold. It's likely sitting right there in the vault." she shrugged, expecting to be met with mostly indifferent expressions from her companions.

Setting aside her reservations, Amandine approached the book laid out on the table, flipping through its pages to gain a clearer understanding of the task they were signing up for.

In The Hourglass Order → 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Event: Tan-Zeno Interview | Location: Ersand'Enise
♫



Event: Tan-Zeno Interview | Location: Enise'Ersand
♫





In The Hourglass Order → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Event: Part Two: Kryzhana Fortetsya | Location: Vossoriyan Tundra, 8-6 years ago
♫

Oksana and Metel continued their arduous journey south through the expansive taiga, navigating the rugged terrain and surviving off the bounties of the land. The keen sense of the elk, drawn to the sweet allure of snowberries, became their guiding compass in this vast wilderness. As the time blurred into days, perhaps weeks, the duo unexpectedly encountered a seasoned hunter accompanied by his son and daughter.

At the first sign of humans, Oksana and the elk mirrored each other's skittishness, both reacting with instinctive fear that drove them to bolt at the mere hint of contact. Shouts and pleas from the bewildered family fell upon deaf ears. However, a turning point emerged when the family cleverly baited the duo with food. The irresistibly tempting rations proved too much for the hungry Oksana to resist.

Amidst this interaction, Alina, the daughter of the hunter, exhibited a warm and welcoming demeanour. Her earthy green eyes held a gentle invitation as she introduced herself to Oksana. Through a series of gentle gestures, Alina coaxed Oksana to join them. Further introductions revealed the hunter's name as Andrei, and his son as Kirill, an unpleasant boy.

Oksana, with Metel, found herself accompanying the family to the great Sich of the south—the formidable Kryzhana fortetsya.



There have been many nights since Oksana first joined them in the Sich, and adapting to a new life proved challenging for the girl. Nighttime, in particular, posed difficulties when her mind settled, and demons crept into her thoughts and dreams. To ease her anxieties, she often shared the bed with Svetlana, her newly adopted mother, and Alina. In moments of fear, loneliness, or night terrors, they consistently provided comfort, embracing her in a warm manner that restored her sense of security.

Her favourite part of the evening was a tradition involving oral histories and lullabies, frequently repeated and sung at night, passed down through generations. While some stories were pleasant, many served as advisories, cautioning about dangers lurking in the wild. One such tale, "Bayu Bayushki Bayu," warned of the perils of wolves, urging children to tuck in tightly, lest a wolf would bite them. As Svetlana sang the lullaby, Alina, gripped by fear, tucked up against her tightly. Meanwhile, Oksana, simply feeling the rhythmic melody, found the experience soothing and comforting. Being close together like this became a favourite nightly ritual.



Over the last two years, the Kryzhana Fortetsya Sich has experienced exponential growth in size. Oksana was not the first, and far from the last, of the refugees who made their way in this direction. Many from smaller settlements and nomadic groups found themselves compelled to move south due to the aggressive actions of Borislav and his people. The pursuit seemed relentless, driven by a goal to eradicate their way of life. With nowhere else to turn, the ice walls of the Sich became the last beacon of safety and hope in the south.

This influx of refugees resulted in heightened tensions as life within the Sich was forced to adapt. A new class system emerged, distinguishing between those who were originally present and those who had earned their membership, giving the former a certain level of superiority over the latter, the new refugee underclass. While Oksana, adopted into one of the original families, technically shared in their privilege, her status as the "brudnyy" (dirty outsider) and her strong-willed spirit marked her out for ridicule among her peers.



“Oksana! Wait!” Alina hurriedly followed after the upset girl, gesturing wildly with her hands in an attempt to capture her attention. Tears welled in Oksana's eyes as she stormed off toward the forest by the Sich, her usual refuge when she needed to escape.

Eventually, Alina caught up, firmly grabbing hold of Oksana and pulling her around, stomping her foot on the ground. “You don’t run off, okay?” She gestured emphatically at her feet, signalling to stand still, then moved in for a comforting hug. Oksana meekly reciprocated, muttering apologies as she embraced Alina. “My brother is a svynya, he is only jealous,” Alina reassured her, running her hands through Oksana’s hair while softly singing the lullaby her mother had taught her. The gentle rumbling of her voice provided comfort, gradually easing the distress.

The two of them sat together on a log by the forest, Oksana reaching for Alina's hand and squeezing it. Life had been challenging, and the ache of missing her parents persisted daily. Yet, with her new family, it was bearable. She turned her attention to Alina as the other girl spoke animatedly. Oksana focused on Alina's lips, observing the rhythmic and gentle movements as they formed words. The topic shifted to boys, and a pang of sympathy for Alina swept over Oksana. The family, being among the eldest in the Sich, carried expectations of Andrei becoming the successor, and marriage proposals were already circulating for the children.

In a moment of realization, Oksana noticed Alina's smile brightening as she spoke about becoming a real sestra. Oksana's eyes widened, contemplating the possibility of Alina proposing her pairing with Kirill. She playfully stuck her tongue out with an audible "yuck." Alina's giggles resonated through her body, their vibrations serving as an unspoken language of their kinship as Oksana smiled warmly.



As dusk settled, Oksana and Ailna began their journey back to the Sich. The air grew cool, as Alina pressed herself against Oksana, seemingly cold. Oksana, who was concerned, removed her outer layer of fur, intending to help shield her from the cold by wrapping it around her, when she felt Alina’s hand grab her wrist. To her surprise, Alina was not shivering, she was trembling. It wasn’t a chill, but sheer fear that had seized Alina’s body - she stood frozen in fear.

Oksana scanned the surroundings, as she felt Alina’s startled reaction. She looked in the direction she pointed as the cause of her fear materialized: a pack of wolves.

With urgency, Oksana grabbed Alina’s hand and pulled, signalling her to run, as she attempted to drag her along. The girl stumbled behind clumsily, slow and unsteady. As the pack closed in, and Alina fell behind, tripping over in the snow. The lead wolf prepared to pounce on the defenceless girl as Oksana, without hesitation and in a split-second decision, threw herself at the beast. Chomp. Oksana cried out in pain as the wolf’s bite sank into her arm, the warmth of her blood oozed from the wound as her saturated leather and furs failed to fully withstand the ferocity of the attack as the jaws clamped onto her arm. As the wolf tore at her, she reacted swiftly as she struck it hard on the nose, forcing it to release its grip as she dislodged her arm from the jaw.

The wolf backed away as the pack circled around the two girls in a menacing ring. Oksana clutched her wounded arm, freezing the wound. Alina, frightened, leaned against her, scared. Oksana began to conjure a spear made of ice to hold with her hands as she spoke softly to Alina, “When we move, they will move. Make a signal, and make it big.” Alina nodded as she understood, and followed tradition, and used her own gift to send a smoke flare above their heads into the dark sky, signalling for help. It erupted into a radiating light, as below, the shadows of the wolves twisted as the pack closed in on their prey.

Oksana wielded the ice spear in her hands, spinning and twisting to ward off the approaching wolves who moved to evade its sharpened point. One, being grave, ignored the spear as it lunged at Alina, bypassing the spear. “Nyet!” Oksana broke the ice spear into two, using one half to stab the wolf in the leg, to tug it away from the other girl, then stabbed it in the back with the other half. As the wolf was pulled away, another charged Alina from the other side, toppling her over. Alina threw snow at its face as it tried to snap at her, whilst Oksana rushed to her aid, and kicked the beast away, by booting against its ribs as hard as she could. With her back turned, Oksana found herself a victim as one leaped on her back, as it wrestled her face down into the snow. She pushed against the ground as she rolled with the wolf, pushing herself onto her back, as it lost its grip, then it scurried away. Another wolf approached the part as she grabbed a hold of a stone, and threw it towards it to deter it from approaching closer.

The wolves regrouped, but this time, arrows and shouts disrupted their advance. Men from the Kryzhana fortetsya charge forward, frightening and driving the wolves away. The two girls were rescued from the predatory pack.



Svetlana attended to the two girls, Oksana using her knowledge of healing from her mother, helping out as Andrei paced in frustration. Svetlana shook her head at the pacing as she sat down with the two girls, speaking to them softly, with concern in her voice.“I am so relieved you’re both back home. What happened out there?”

Alina spoke nervously, her hands gripped tightly together on her lap. “It was terrifying, Mama. We were walking and lost track of time when I heard the howling of the wolf. When I tried to tell Sana, they had already started to surround us.” Oksana simply had her head down; her thoughts were filled with guilt. It was her that put them in such a dangerous situation. It was her fault, and again, she was powerless.

Svetlana’s expression softened as she smiled, moving to place herself between the girls as she held onto them. “It is okay; take your time. We’re both here for you.” She and Andrei exchanged an unspoken expression toward each other. “How did you manage to get away?”

“It was Sana; she stood so brave as I sent the signal, trying to keep them away.” Alina spoke fondly as she looked across at her ‘sister’, who appeared to be in a world of her own. Svetlana squeezed tighter on the girl, as if to gesture, thank you. Andrei was going to say something when he felt Oksana’s eyes on him, watching him. He decided to simply leave the girls alone as he exited the room.

After the conversation, Svetlana tucked the girls into their bed as she eventually retired to her own bed to be with Andrei. “She could have been seriously hurt,” he grumbled as he started to express his frustration. “They are both alive and with us now,” she spoke softly to him. “It is that girl’s fault; she constantly gets Alina into trouble.” Svetlana turned her head as she stared towards him in a more stern manner. “You were the one who did the right thing and brought her home. Do you see how protective of Alina she is? Our daughter couldn’t have a better friend.”

“It is more that Alina is protective of her. The way Kirill speaks, her reputation is being tarnished by the girl.” Svetlana stared at him. “Is this your concerned father's voice, or are you worried about your prospects of becoming the chieftain?” He looked back at her, held that gaze for a moment, then relented. “If we can secure a good marriage for her, it is all but done.” Svetlana elbowed him as she turned her back towards him. “Good night.” He frowned. “I am just looking out for us.”



Days passed with Alina in a state of panic, relentlessly searching for her missing necklace. Oksana tried to assist, but their efforts were in vain. It was during the search that they had a revelation: "The wolves! It must have dropped there." Despite warnings against exploring, Oksana offered to go alone, but Alina insisted on accompanying her.

Journeying back to the forest, they reached the fateful spot. The snow had come and gone, and in the waning moments of their unsuccessful search, Alina heard a sound. She signalled Oksana, who conjured an ice blade and cautiously approached. Oksana vanished, leaving everything silent, causing concern. A rustle in the bushes preceded yapping sounds, and Oksana emerged, holding a wolf pup by the scruff, the necklace in its mouth. Smiling widely, she handed the pup to Alina, saying, "He looked after it for you." Three more were yapping at her feet, "No food, pups are hungry." Alina looked at the pup as it gnawed on the elk antler necklace futilely, giggled, and gently tugged it away.

They discovered that the wolves' den was nearby, and they had young to feed. Oksana felt some kinship with the creatures, knowing the pain of losing her own parents. After coaxing Alina to help nurse and feed the pups in their absence until they could leave on their own. Though her arguments for bringing them home were dismissed, this new routine became a regular occurrence, and the wolf pups grew in size.

One day, Oksana had returned from one of her trips and began to change into her indoor clothes. Alina rushed in through the door, alarmed, "Sana! The wolf pups!" She tugged at the deaf girl, who was perplexed, and hurried back into her outerwear as she followed her. They made it outside the walls to find three teenage boys throwing rocks at the wolf pups, who must have followed Oksana back home.

The largest teen picked up a hefty rock as he advanced toward them, causing them to step back. "You filthy beasts! You will suffer like your parents did!" he bellowed. Using both hands, he hurled the rock towards them, prompting whimpers and hurried movements. "Stop it, Kirill! What are you doing? These pups aren't to blame for what happened!" Alina rushed ahead of her brother, positioning herself between them and the pups.

"They're part of the same pack, they deserve it!" He went to pick up another rock, but his sister stepped in the way, preventing him from throwing it. "No, they don't. They lost their parents. We've been taking care of them, feeding them. They're innocent."

His eyes gleamed maliciously, "Innocent? Wolves are never innocent. You're just soft-hearted, always trying to save everything, even that brudnyy." His gaze shifted to Oksana, another 'rescued' by his sister, as she approached the pups, gently shooing them away. "Maybe so, but I won't let you hurt them. They're not the enemy; they're just trying to survive."

He spat toward his sister, "Survive? You're being stupid, and I won't stand by and watch you make that same mistake again!" He pushed Alina over and out of the way as he approached the creatures.

Oksana sensed the change in the wolves as they began to growl. She turned her head to watch Kirill push Alina over with a rock in his hands. She yelled out as she went to charge him, keeping her head low as she tackled into him, causing him to fly backward. She moved between herself and Alina, checking on her.

Kirill was assisted by his friends as he brushed off the snow. "You all saw that, didn't you? She attacked me." His grin was wide, "That was a mistake, brudnyy mutt. One that was a long time coming."

Alina tugged on Oksana as she was able to stand. "Let's go; he is trying to provoke you." She tried to soothe her as Oksana began to relax slightly and slowly lower her guard.

"Don't think it will be that easy this time." He began to use the gift, summoning a ball of fire in his hand as he pointed it toward the wolves. "Goodbye, Mutt." Oksana ran to intercept, but it was too late; he had turned, pointing it toward his own sister and released it. Alina cried out as Oksana only saw red, drawing from the flame.

Kirill laughed as he watched. He knew it was large enough to cause a scare, but his grin continued as he noticed Oksana heading towards him. "Take care of her. Let's see how good she is when the supervisors are not watching."

His friend Bodgen charged towards Oksana with a stick, intending to strike her. Oksana formed a blade with ice as she countered his attack. The impact caused the stick to snap and go flying as she followed up with an uppercut punch.

Dmitri bound some rocks together and cast them towards her. They thudded into her back, and she rolled onto the floor, creating a wall of ice behind her to stop the assault. The boy tried to knock down the wall with his rocks when suddenly hands grasped his ankles and pulled him down into the snow. Oksana popped out from underneath him and delivered an elbow drop.

"Kirill, stop, it has gone too far!" Alina's words seemed lost to the wind as Kirill fired a hot plume of fire towards the direction of Oksana. She created a shield of water, turning it to ice as she used it to push away the flames while slowly approaching him. The pair locked in a song of ice and fire, the heat of the flames licking past dangerous levels. Oksana conjured darts of ice as she tilted the shield upwards, creating an opening to impale the boy's feet with them. As Kirill cried out in pain, his attack halted, Oksana charged forward and barrelled into him, knocking him on his back as she jumped on him.

With her tormentor underneath her, all she could envisage was Borislav's face as she laid into him, raining blow after blow with her fists. Alina ran up to Oksana, attempting to pull her away, as she fought back, tears in her eyes as she continued. The fighting had attracted attention, and guards came to the scene, tackling Oksana and dragging the distressed girl away. Alina stayed behind with her brother, those green eyes of hers watched her get taken away.



Oksana was held in a secure location behind a locked door. She had not seen or heard from her family for a couple of days, as her only contact was the shifting of the guard and when she brought some food. The guards had spoken, but she was unable to hear, a fact they misunderstood, as this made them talk more freely with each other, thinking she was unable to follow the odd phrase as she watched their lips. Kirill, despite being beaten black and blue, was otherwise unharmed and recovering. The wolf cubs were not found, presumed to have left the area. It was when Andrei came himself that she knew the outcome.

The man came alone, not a trace of Alina or Svetlana having accompanied him. He looked towards her, then sighed, shaking his head. “You are not to return to our home; you are not welcome.” Oksana could feel her heart skip a beat, her pleading quickly silenced as he raised his hand. “Kirill is my son and heir. You are not. That is all that needs to be said of that decision.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, the droplets crystallizing as they reached her jaw, falling like tiny gem droplets.

He turned as he was about to leave, “My daughter and wife would never forgive me if I allowed something to happen to you. Despite your age, you will join to serve the guards on the wall. A roof over your head, food, and an important position in the Sich.” He walked out, as the guards came in to bring her to her new quarters.

Alina was gone.
In The Hourglass Order → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Event: Small Steps, Graceful Strides. | Location: Enise'Ersand
♫

The events of the revolution were certainly a turning point in the history of the world. Who would have thought Upta had been a Grand Demon who had taken over the academy? It seemed that this fact alone had essentially excused all of their actions and transgressions in the form of a general amnesty, though the repercussions and very real consequences were still sorely felt by everyone.

Even with all this, Ayla found parts of herself very excited, simply buzzing with excessive energy. She couldn’t exactly put her finger on the pulse of the matter, but a little positivity in this dark time was surely needed. She remembered that warm smile that spoke from the heart as she held the girl’s hand, of someone who appeared to understand. She picked Asier up in her excitement, swung him around, and then put him down on her bed as she grinned from ear to ear. She had finally done it; she was about to make friends with a Yasoi! Casii, Ismet, Tyrel, it had all failed horribly. Well, Jamboi technically counts, kind of, but everyone is Jamboi’s friend, and he wasn’t the kind of boy you would invite out for some coffee. No, this is going to be her new friend, a tall pretty girl with white hair and a good heart. A good, normal friend to go out on dates with—no weird awkwardness, no boys involved, and especially not pretending to be a boy and unintentionally getting introduced to her parents as a potential suitor again. She brushed her hair for the nth time, put it down, then clapped her box of treats, picked up a bottle of wine, and took that long moment to breathe and settle back into being herself again.

One downside of the revolution was certainly the damage done to the green spaces. Thankfully, Ersand’Enise had some trained gardeners, but the scars on the land would take time to heal. It gave her some anxiety, especially as she knew Yasoi loved nature, but she hoped she chose wisely in choosing the arboretum. After all, they could always go for a walk instead. She decided to bring out her flute as she played, waiting for Seviin to appear as Asier lounged nearby.

Seviin didn't so much arrive as she appeared, leaning almost impishly against a nearby tree trunk. "Sorry," she began. "I've been here for some time and missed you, and then your playing was so nice that I fear I was entranced." She pushed off and strode forward, smiling shyly. "Might you forgive me, Ayla?"

Ayla’s playing almost came to an abrupt stop as Seviin arrived. The girl clearly looked pleased to see Seviin before her expression dropped for a moment, and her eyebrow raised. “Forgive you? We certainly do not. You have done nothing that requires our forgiveness.” Ayla smiled impishly after the comment as she went to give Seviin a hug. “Thank you for patiently waiting for us. We are very pleased that you arrived.”

Her expression changed again for a moment as she recalled something. She went to collect her picnic basket and opened it up to reveal the macaroons inside. “Help yourself to one. We have brought plenty of food and drink.” Asier continued to lie on the grass, his eyes peeled open, only to yawn, and then appeared to continue resting as they closed again. “And this sleepy one is Asier; he is doing the important job of looking after the picnic basket,” Her voice purred as she teased the cat.

"These look... delicious," Seviin remarked, kneeling demurely once she had been released. "And so does *he*!" she squealed, holding a hand out towards the cat to help him acclimate to her. After a tentative peace had been established with the distinct possibility of petting at a later juncture, she reached for a macaroon. "I think I shall," she agreed to Ayla's offer, but then she paused. "Oh! Um... there aren't any... animal products in them, right?" The yasoi smiled uncertainly, fingers just about to grasp one.

The Puff-lion sniffed curiously toward Seviin’s fingers as she stretched them before its maw. It looked towards the digits in a wary manner, then moved closer to sniff at them, licking the tips of the fingers. After this brief investigation, it withdrew to continue snoozing, seemingly losing interest.

Ayla, on the other hand, was caught off-guard by the question about animal products in the food. She glanced toward the macaroons, saying, “They are baked with egg whites. Does that suit your palate?”

Seviin blinked. "Well, you see, it's something of a moral choice," she replied. "Mother Oirase created all and she gave to the yasoi - and to huusoi, of course - reason and empathy. Why is it that we raise some animals en masse to be slaughtered while, others, we give a nice comfy bed, all the food they could want, and plenty of petting?" She shook her blonde head. "It has always seemed an odd and unjust thing to me, so I choose not to participate." She seemed to catch herself there. "Egg whites are fine, though, so long as none of the eggs are fertilized, of course."

Ayla looked flummoxed at the sudden moralizing as she chewed on her bottom lip, her cheeks rosy, and she appeared a little flustered by the speech. She sheepishly offered the macaroons she had poured her heart into making once again. "Was that a rhetorical question, or do you enjoy sharing ideas on concepts such as these?" Ayla’s eyelashes batted gently as she ran her fingers through her hair, twisting a few strands. "We... have a reputation for wanting to enjoy long discussions on morality, philosophy, and history. We haven’t met someone open-minded enough to enjoy such deep, exploring, and intimate discussions with." Her heart thumped in her chest, and her cheeks almost went as red as her hair. "It's okay if you don’t. We just thought we should ask."

Her eyes did glance toward Asier, as she silently sent her thoughts toward him. "Sorry, little one, might have to wait until after the walk for your beef bully stick."

"I never ask a question that isn't meant to be answered," Seviin replied. "That I *do* believe there are right and wrong answers, not like some of these new Yan- *huusoi* and siisoi philosophers who'd steep everything in ambivalent shades of grey." She took a bit of the macaroon and smiled widely. "It's delicious, by the way! You are *very* talented." After finishing the treat, she swallowed and cleared her throat. "I simply don't believe that we are random things. The gods made us with intentionality and I intend to live in a way that reflects that." her eyes darted towards the treats once more and she smiled shyly.

Ayla took a macaroon and placed it between her lips, taking a bite as the other spoke. The soft shell melted within her mouth, and the vibrant taste of the fruit jam in the middle complemented the texture. “There are certainly black and white in the world, but instead of things being grey, we like to think of it as yellow, red, blue, purple, and orange. After all, there are at least five gods,” her voice a subtle purr as she playfully highlighted the difference, “and when they are in unison, we have our white, and when they are absent, it is a void.” She beamed brightly towards Seviin, using hand gestures to emphasize her points. “We live in a rich and colourful world, and you are right, everything is very intentional. Even the way we treat different animals, sometimes even different peoples.” She offered the box again to Seviin, shuffling it to encourage her to take the white one, or was it the red one next to it?

Seviin grinned wickedly. "You're my type of lil' ol' agitator." Daringly, she chose *both* macaroons. "And you're not wrong. The world is full of colour, verve, and option, but I think we have to pick ours: pick what matters to us, and champion it." She bit into the white one first. "That's not to say we can't change, but it should only be done for a truly compelling reason. Wouldn't you agree?" She flipped the other between her fingers nimbly and smiled.

Ayla gasped in faux terror, “Both? How dare you have more than one. You have a dark soul, Seviin, and we like it.” She giggled playfully, “The white reminded me of you,” she smiled shyly as she watched the girl bite into the treat and enjoy it. She then moved her hand to the other side of the basket, to the box, and pulled out a beef bully stick from under a blanket, “Since we are on the topic of being controversial. Macaroons unfortunately won’t feed him.” She cast it towards Asier, giving Seviin a look of playful defiance, as the puff-lion began to wake up, sniffed over towards it, and then began to bite and chew on it, his paws gripping it hold it as he savoured his treat.

"Provocative," Seviin remarked, averting her eyes. She finished the white macaroon, eyes roving about the Arboretum. "So, not to completely change the subject, but... to completely change the subject." She blushed. "I've made a rather big leap. I cannot countenance my people's violence, even if one buys the line that it is well-intended, but now I find that violence has followed me here." She swallowed and cast her eyes downward. "Tell me, truly, Ayla, for I feel as if we are just kindred enough that we may understand each other." She lifted her face towards the other. "What is Ersand'Enise like? What can I expect?"

Ayla smiled gently as she gazed up toward Seviin, pausing to reflect, “Ersand’Enise is full of diverse ideas and people. How else could two distant roses ever hope to meet?” She blushed lightly as she shared an expression of kinship with her, “Yet, amongst this diversity, things do tend to be relatively peaceful in general, recent events notwithstanding. We enjoy it here, making new friends, ones that otherwise never would have met. Maybe you'll find out not all yanii are bad,” she gave her a wink, and then held her hand, “and perhaps here you can lead by example, like the other night. Perhaps we can show others that we don’t need violence to solve everything.”

Seviin bit into the red macaroon, finally, and smiled. "I shall take you at your word, Ayla, for you have earned that much." She chewed and swallowed. "I know at least *one* huusoi who I will trust not to commit daily crimes against all that is holy and decent." She winked. All around them, nature was rebuilding, rejuvenating, with the assistance of people of all sorts instead of their indifference or even antagonism. It was... something new, something that would take time to get used to, but something that she thought she could grow very much to like. "I so ardently hope you are right, suunei." She finished the last bite, dusted off her hands, and began to rise. "Might you be willing to give your lost little foreign friend a tour?"

Ayla looked up at the tall girl and raised her eyebrow. “Not so sure about a little foreign friend, but we are happy to show around this really tall one.” She moved onto her tiptoes, as if trying to measure up next to Seviin, using her hand to indicate their height difference, grinning widely.

“Yes, let’s go for a walk, there are some nice woods nearby.” She held her friend's hand, her smile beamed as she walked, calling on Asier, who had finished his treat and came running after them.

In The Hourglass Order → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Event: Part One: The Sich | Location: Vossoriyan Tundra, 10 years ago
♫

"Ivor, close it up already," Lyudmila said scornfully, as her husband was taking more than his fair share of time chatting away with the opening of the Chum wide open. "We don't have that much grass on hand." Oksana giggled wildly. "Tatu, hurry, it is getting so coooolllldddd," she said with exaggerated emphasis as she wrapped herself up with the fur blankets.

Ivor grumbled and humbugged as he was thoroughly chastised by his family, reluctantly finishing off his conversation. He eventually sealed it as the hot air started to refill the room, enough to start peeling some layers off.

"Not sure why you are the one complaining; you don't feel the cold as I do," he rebuked towards his wife, Lyudmila, who returned a playful smile. "Only thinking of you, dear." He only half managed to get his coat half-off before he was attacked by a ferocious little girl. "Rawr!" as she pounced on him.

"Ah, it is Oles the Levlytsar in the flesh!" he grabbed the girl in return, bundling her up in a hug, his arms wrapped around her and in the blankets. "She gets more like her Tato every day. I worry about her future marriage prospects," Lyudmila chastised the pair of them now.

Ivor smiled brightly as he doted on his daughter. "Now, my zaychenya is going to become a great healer like her Mamo, isn't she?" Oksana nodded her head in return. "A great healer like Mama and travelling the world to fight monsters!"

Lyudmila shook her head. "It is like talking to a deaf girl; she never listens. They keep entertaining her with those fanciful stories when they come in. I never knew Elk herding was such a dangerous occupation."

Ivor couldn't help but chuckle. "They have a bet on; whoever tells her the best story is getting first pick of the Elk at the end of the season." Lyudmila chuckled as she shook her head in bemusement. "They were certainly upping the stakes; it will be hard-pressed to beat the one with the Begemont."

Ivor laughed in return as Oksana gave a puzzled look at the pair. Lyudmila opened the outer layer of her fur as she beckoned her over, and Oksana closed in for a hug as Lyudmila began to start serving supper. "I love you, Mama," "You too, sonechko."



As they all settled down for the evening, with little Sana bundled up in her furs, the pair of them were able to speak more privately. “What were you talking about earlier?” Lyudmila gazed into her husband's eyes with concern as they laid together.

Ivor sighed, shaking his head disappointedly. “It is Borislav and his brutes sniffing around the herds again.”

Lyudmila's brows furrowed in worry, and she gently traced a soothing pattern on Ivor's chest. “Already? We were not expecting him again till the end of the season.”

“The Tsar has increased the tithe, apparently. We were found to be short.”

Lyudmila's expression hardened. “Does he think we are so forgetful? He already raised it last time. This is robbery.”

“Robbery or not, he is here to oversee these lands. We plan on leaving tomorrow, we are considering moving the herd further south, perhaps buying ourselves a season or two.”

Lyudmila shook her head, frightened. She twirled a strand of her hair nervously. “He would not like that, he really wouldn’t. I have known him since I was a girl; he has always had a temper.”

“If we don’t, if it came to another season, there wouldn’t be a herd for him to take a tithe from. He would start looking at people.” Ivor's eyes gazed towards the bundle of wrapped-up fur where his daughter lay.

Lyudmila's hand found its way to Sana's small form, a protective gesture. “He wouldn’t dare; that is our daughter…”

“…and if she is anything like her mother, the blood mouths would pay big for her.”

Lyudmila nodded, her worry shifting to determination. “He is a traitor to the Kozaky; we always fought to keep our independence, we serve in their armies and pay the tithe so they leave us alone.”

“Word has it, he sold out, and they promised him the title of Knyaz. The tithe is being used to weaken us and drive us out of his lands.”

“What will happen now?”

“We have sent Anhelina to inform him we accept his terms and will have the delivery ready in three days. It should buy us enough time.”

Ivor wrapped his arms around Lyudmila, offering comfort as she cuddled up against him, and they rested for the evening, facing the challenges that awaited them.



The snow fell during the peaceful night, the chums stood amongst their herd as the smoke of the dim fires rose from their tips. Sharpened sticks lined the boundary around the Sich, serving to keep the wilderness out and the herds inside.

The fresh snow easily parted as it was ploughed by horses, and the riders moved at twilight. Their trail left dark streaks in the landscape, as if a bear god had clawed through the land, eventually fanning out and encircling the encampment. The man at the head lit his torch as he approached the entrance. Adorned in thick furs, his arms glistened and jingled with bands of precious metal. His face was coated in war paint, flanked on the right by a man with scars and tattoos, his disfigured upper lip forming a permanent scowl, and on the left by a woman with a seemingly unremarkable appearance. Her dusty blonde hair and dress were more in keeping with the style of those in the Vossoriyan settlements. She was the first to approach the gates, captivating the men with a gesture, causing them to open the way before dropping into a never-ending sleep. The band began to enter the Sich.

Metal was drawn as the band scattered toward the chums dotted out before them. The light sounds of snow crunching beneath their feet were soon accompanied by blades slicing through the hide walls of the chums and the occupants inside. Most were caught unaware of their fate, while others fought valiantly to protect their families. Some raised the alarm, letting out loud noises, creating light displays, or screaming from the top of their lungs.

The sound of drums vibrated through the encampment as the alarm was raised, survivors regrouped with others who readied themselves for war. Oksana, bundled in furs, watched the shadows in the night and the frightening shapes they made in the light of the night sky. Her people ran around grabbing what they could as invaders set the chums ablaze, the fierce fires scorching their presence from the lands. Those who tried to challenge the band individually found themselves overpowered, leading to the formation of a defensive group as the invaders regrouped, resulting in a stand-off.



The first to break ranks was the snarling man, holding the head of a woman, Anhelina the messenger, as he hurled it to the feet of Ivor. Though the one to speak was the well-dressed gentleman, Borislav himself, his jewellery jingling.

“I thought better of you, Chief Ivor. I thought you and your kind already knew your place as my property.” He shook his head disappointedly, tutting. “You tried to run from me.”

Ivor stepped forward, opposing him, “You monster, how could you turn on your own people like this?”

The disfigured man started to laugh loudly, “They don’t deny it! I have been robbed of their whimpering, of their feeble lies.”

Borislav gestured to the man to hold back, “Viktor, please, we are civilized people now.” His dark grin betrayed the malice behind those words; he was not discussing culture but simple superiority, of man above those that are property.

It was the woman who gestured next, towards the mother and her daughter. “Ice veins. Those two shall fetch us a good price.” She laughed as Lyudmila and Oksana were escorted to the back of the group as others moved to stand before them. “Then make sure to gather them up, Zorya.” Borislav nodded.



As the tension in the air thickened, Borislav, Viktor, and Zorya stepped forward, casting an ominous shadow over the group with flames of destruction roaring behind them. Viktor’s disfigured face contorted into a snarl as he confidently advanced. Ruslan, the 'Begemont Slayer,' fuelled by defiance, readied himself, locking eyes with Viktor, determined despite the odds. The snow beneath their feet seemed to hold its breath, anticipating the eruption of violence.

The first clash echoed through the night as Ruslan repeatedly thrust with his spear, targeting vulnerable spots. Viktor wielded his axe effortlessly, parrying the spear ferociously and seeking opportunities to strike back. The moment one was created, he hurled the weapon toward Ruslan, the axe striking him in the head, and splitting his skull as he fell into the snow unceremoniously limp. Viktor, undeterred, pulled the axe from the man's skull with a squelch, roaring out as he scored his skin with another mark, overwhelming any who dared to cross his path.

Lenka, another of the Sich, raised her hand, casting a fireball towards the group. It was Zorya that stepped forward, creating a hungering shield to absorb it to protect the warband. She followed up with an internal attack, attempting to knock out Lenka, but the stumbling woman resisted. She used an opportunity as the spear lunged towards Zorya as the woman was caught by surprise, hitting her with a glancing blow. Furious, she snarled and used internal magnetic magic to paralyse and crumble the woman into a pile on the floor.

As the others fought, Ivor readied his bow, chanting and praying to the Old Mother of the Sky. He readied his bow as he fired at Borislav multiple times with kinetic empowered arrows. They flew in the air, hitting him unexpectedly in the arm and then the leg. Ivor couldn't believe his luck, instructing those behind him to start running. Viktor and Zorya turned towards him with concern, while Borislav laughed. He reached down, pulling the arrows from his body without bothering to heal, his blood splattering on the snow. His features twisted in a cruel smile, as he began to proceed forward. “Cut them off, he is mine.”

Borislav began bearing down on Ivor with his sword drawn, unleashing a torrent of movements that seemingly parried arrows in a choreographed manner, his swordplay was a brutal dance of dominance. Ivor found himself cornered, and despite his valiant efforts, the odds were insurmountable. Blow after blow of that sword landed on him until he fell, bloodied, a symbol of resistance crushed beneath the weight of tyranny and progress.

In the chaos, Lyudmila found herself captured and dragged away by unseen hands, using ice magic to fend off her attackers. She called out desperately, "Zaychenya, run!" and created an ice wall, giving others an increased opportunity to flee. Zorya quickly made her way to the scene disarmed and disabled her with internal chem, ending her resistance, and to haul her away to be sold.

Oksana ran as fast as her little legs would take her, tears flooding her face as her world crashed down. "Mama.. Tatu..." Others around her also ran. An explosion rocked behind her as they tore down the ice wall, which caught her in the crossfire and she was now thrust into a world of chaos. A shockwave resonated through her being, as she was struck by the debris. The world became a muffled symphony of destruction. A loud pitch rang in her ears as she grew disoriented, slipping into states of unconsciousness, as she was now face down on the ground.

She remembered the heaviness on top of her, hardly able to breathe as the snow continued to drift and fall around her. The sight of Viktor making short work of others fleeing, taking pleasure in their suffering, as their blood stained the snow, the battle continued to rage on around her. She struggled against the cold embrace, but the shock was too much. She passed out for good, and soon was completely trapped in a snowy cocoon. The world she once knew was gone, meeting its final end.



The world was pitch black, and silent. Was she dead?

Out of the emptiness of the void was a sensation. A rough but wet feeling over where her face was. As awareness slowly crept back, she shot up quickly and suddenly, taking in a deep breath. The remnants of the snow cocoon surrounded her, and a warmth on her face indicated the source of the sensation. Ice covered her eyes, and she clawed at it until the world became bright with the sun's rays.

Before her stood one of the elk calves, nudging and prodding its nose into her. Dazed, she struggled to maintain balance, experiencing vertigo that made distinguishing up from down challenging. She reached out, holding onto the creature for support, and embraced it, grateful for its companionship. Though she attempted to speak to it, the silence hung in the air, a loud, deafening silence. Staring at the calf, she saw its concerned gaze, felt the rumblings in its body as it bleated, though she couldn't hear the sound.

She leaned into the creature's fur, tears streaming down her face as the events of the previous night flooded back. Alone in this new, quiet world, she felt a profound sense of isolation. The Elk calf, however, disagreed, moving to lick her face, drying her salty tears.

Perhaps she was not entirely alone.

Stroking the Elk, she reluctantly sobered up from her distress.

“I shall call you, Metel.”

In Tales From the Realm of Laelilon → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
ꁲ ꂵ ꁲ ꋊ ꂠ ꂑ ꋊ ꈼ
ꋖ ꂑ ꂵ ꈼ
Day 1 [Night]
꒒ ꂦ ꀯ ꁲ ꋖ ꂑ ꂦ ꋊ
Lock and Key [Somerset]
ꌚ ꂦ ꐇ ꋊ ꂠ ꋖ ꌅ ꁲ ꀯ ꀗ
♫

Amandine simply gave a serene wave as the big blue… buddy sent a wink in her direction. It is obvious that whoever orchestrated this gathering under the Sapphire Sun took pleasure in hosting a collection of eclectic individuals to join the organization. She cannot fathom anything that could unite them to a common purpose, other than the fact each one of them is rather different and unique from the other.

She placed the pheasant on the table as she allowed each to help themselves, making sure it was spread out to be enjoyed before her new buddy scooped up the rest in a single handful. Turning the chair at the table, she sat, leaning against its back.

Amandine listened attentively to what others said, mulling and contemplating their answers and perspectives. “Diseases come and go, but with the Rot, if it becomes a pandemic, it could bring the Empire down to its knees overnight.” She said as she took a bite out of her flatbread pheasant sandwich and washed it down with some wine. “The Royal Knights would be sent out to purge any areas affected immediately.” She gestured with the sandwich to indicate Maltar’s point about Mercenary work, she continued, “The mystery is certainly who or what is causing it, and I venture to guess that our esteemed Royal Knights are having their hands full of this question.”

Solemnly, she added, “There isn’t a known cure for the Rot, which poses a secondary problem for the Empire: corpses don’t pay taxes.”

In The Hourglass Order → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Event: Masks of Black | Location: Ersand'Enise

The evening had come to an end as Taleja’s heels clicked on the stone. She found herself ruminating on a particular set of events, and she couldn’t put her finger on the specifics of it. Jocasta had accused her of poisoning, yet there had been no intention for her to play any kind of active role in such a feat. Also, earlier means when? There had been no opportunities and no interactions since thin air, and she would not have resorted to such efforts for a children's game. There was also the possibility of mistaken identity; perhaps Memento Mori acted, but why would she suspect her involvement, especially in a poisoning, when she did not have a hand in it? Did they let slip with a source of their information? Whatever the outcome, it was troubling. Jocasta wasn’t the only one who had been on her mind; there was the Vossiriyan too, and she was up to something. One scene, in particular, was when she requested her to stop; was it more than the fight, an indication people were watching her? The girl had hurried her away from Jocasta; were they connected somehow? To make it even more perplexing, her mark for the evening had not even made an appearance. She clenched her fist in frustration as she needed to reassess the drawing board. She attracted attention, and she needed to blind all the eyes upon her in some fashion.

"You're good, Miss Drakenknecht," announced a man's voice, and then there was a cloaked figure standing in her path, hands spread in a nonthreatening gesture. "Very good, in fact, but you've chosen some especially dangerous people to deal with." There was a momentary pause. "I believe you recognize that now."

“However, I was not good enough,” she responded dryly. The heels came to a stop as she stood still in front of the figure. She didn’t need to be informed of the unwritten rules of the dynamic, and she simply breathed in and let her shoulders drop in resignation. Her green eyes looked down. “I have entered a chessboard and made a first move that I don’t remember,” she brushed her hair to the side as her green eyes moved to meet his, “and all I can recall is playing draughts.”

"A mistake that came about because you didn't take the time to learn about your opponent. A mistake that you won't make again, I trust." The man was wearing a black mask: a clear statement to Taleja of what he was if not *who*. "You're used to winning," he continued. "You're used to being the strongest or at least the smartest in the room, but almost everybody here comes from a similar pedestal." He shook his head. "The only thing inherently special about you, Taleja Drakenknecht, is your mana type. The rest, you'll have to build. The problem, as you may or may not be aware, is that the all-powerful maniac whom you conspired to kill in a timeline since erased, is about to arrive and render you a stain on the floor." He tilted his head to the side. "What is your way out of this situation?"

Taleja silently listened and mulled over the words being spoken as she replied softly, "It was actually a move in Go that was played." There wasn’t much else that needed to be said verbally, as the situation was pretty clear. It was a thick, uneasy, and heavy silence that lingered. "They always said that Dami’s hell is paved with the best intentions." Her hands held together as they shook and twitched, "Not that it truly mattered. This world is ruled by the strong, who seek nothing more than to abuse it." She looked down at the muddy pavement, "Truly, my fight had already been lost 800 years ago, a remnant, really, of a people on the verge of genocide by the hands of another." A tear rolled down her cheek, as it lingered there for a moment, before eventually falling. She moved into her bag to retrieve a handkerchief, her finger stroking the head of her Slefish for a moment, before she wiped the tear away.

"Though, you are wrong about one thing." She sniffed and put the damp handkerchief back away in her handbag. "What makes me special isn’t my mana-type. What makes me special is that I am willing to embrace being the monster people already see me as." Her eyes coldly regarded the man, "My mere existence is regarded as an abomination, both as a swamp witch and as a Kressian," she paused before making an amendment, "That is Kressian, with a K. We have not all died, just yet." She took a step forward, then thought better of it, then took it back, then began to pace sideways instead, "They like to make up stories about me, you know. People I have never met." She spun her finger around in a circle, "Apparently, I enjoy dining on a good baby when I have the opportunity, my mouth full of their innocent blood." She mimicked the action of eating a leg of lamb like an Eskandr, "Children taught that if they misbehave, a Kressian will kidnap them in the middle of the night to raise them in the filth and squalor of the swamps and burn down their village."

"My mere existence is abhorrent. I see the way people look at me, their looks, their disdain. I am as welcome as a swarm of locusts on a farmer's field. If you saw that little Soirée, you would have noticed that invisible barrier that naturally formed around me, nobody wanted me there." She outlined a circle around her, one that the man conveniently stood out of the range of. "Nobody wants Taleja, the nice girl who likes to share her love of herbal tea, who would like nothing more than to share a small tea party with her friends. All they care about is their little giggles, point and laugh at the creepy girl, all fun and games. A curiosity like the bearded lady, conjoined twins, or a siren caged in an oversized bucket. So… I did it," she moved into her own bag as she pulled out her beaked black mask, as she tossed it to the man’s feet, "Like you, I wore a mask." She moved her hand over her face; any trace of annoyance, sadness, frustration, and fear disappeared, replaced by a very unsettling polite smile. Her tone became incongruent with her words, a polite singsong of a voice in disharmony with them, "I became the monster, the devil they made me out to be. I gave them the impression I am someone to be feared, it is easier that way, they leave you alone. I played the part, three C’s as you will. Calm, collected, and in control. I really wasn’t, but you see, if you appear like you are, people just assume and back down, as if going according to some obnoxious master plan, rather than swinging by the hem of my skirt, as it were."

She moved her hand upwards, as if the motion removed the face as it revealed that natural and distressed expression, her tone now congruent again, as she moved to directly answer the question, "My way out of this situation? There isn’t one." Her shoulders dropped, "If fortunate, I may have time to get my affairs in order, write a letter to my father, as it were. At best, I will get a carriage in the morning with my belongings, and return to Kressia, perhaps enough for some funds, and disappear for a bit. Perhaps I may follow the footsteps of my ancestors, head to the wandering mountain as a hermit," a wry smile formed on her lips, "or like the other side, peddle my wares as an alchemist swamp witch for some young couple who wants to discreetly induce a miscarriage, then get accused of crimes against Oraff and wanting to harvest the child in exchange for eternal youth and beauty."

Taleja paused for a moment, then stood still, "The truth is, I am already dead, that is why you are here. Assassin’s don’t make social calls." Her green eyes turned to the man in the mask, "I shared my story so that I may be remembered. Perhaps you may feel some pity, and after the deed is done, you go home, raise a drink, send me off with a memory of the person I am. A girl who never lived. Perhaps I might hear, and thank you through the cheery song of ‘Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead’." She turned and lowered her head, closing those green eyes for a final time. "I’m ready. Please make it quick and painless."

Taleja's great monologue went forward uninterrupted. For a moment afterwards, there was silence. Then came a single clap, muffled by gloves, and a second, third, and fourth, slowly and deliberately. "A touch melodramatic. A touch *long.* You'll need to learn concision, to tone that down just a bit, but affective nonetheless. I *felt* something." He strode forward, into the immediate range of her disruption, and pressed his hand to his heart. After a moment, he let it fall. "Parts of it may even have been real." He was motionless but not emotionless. "That's a valuable skill: channeling the authentic bits, *using* them." He lifted her mask from the ground with uncertain kinetic magic, and returned it to her opened bag. "I am Volto Nero. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Drakenknecht." He held out his hand for her to shake it.

Taleja remained motionless as he clapped, simply listening to his words. As he approached, she lifted her head and gazed toward him. She was not fooled; she knew her life lay in the man’s hands, though his continued presence suggested an alternative outcome to the evening. As he walked close to her, she could sense no fear or hesitation in his actions. She fiddled with her glove anxiously as he opened the fastening, scratching against the back of her hand. Her green eyes shone as she stared into his eyes, watching every twitch of the iris, every direction they looked, trying to better understand the person she was with. As he offered his hand, she moved her pale, dainty fingers towards it. "What brings Signore Nero from his warm bed to meet me this evening?" Her eyes continued to follow his, questioning him. "Are you here to recruit me into the Volti?"

He shook his head. If there was any further expression, it was hidden behind both a mask and magics. He was easily Jocasta's equal in that regard. Even though his manas should have been in rebellion, he retained enough power to cast. "Would you want to join the Volti Nascosti, truly, or would it only be for the resources?" Would your goals align with theirs?"

"Everyone knows the Dieci Volti do not exist," she turned away, peering past him, "Even if they did, a secretive cabal of immortal killers has never been at the top of a little girl’s list for graduation. If it was, I would be very concerned." She turned to give Nero a wry smile. "I had assumed your recruitment philosophy would be ‘We find you, you don’t find us’, so I have been unable to ascertain your goals from the recruitment poster. Please forgive my ignorance on the matter. If it were true you were responsible for the death of monarchs last year, I wouldn’t say our goals were incompatible. I would assist with at least a couple more on your list, timeline erasure forgiving."

Her green eyes looked to his, then appeared to eye his figure. "If you are not here on behalf of the Volti, then are you here on behalf of yourself?" She moved her hands towards the back of her hair, beginning to unfold the platinum blonde locks before him. "A bride, perhaps, keeping you to your bed. One whose very life is held in your grasp?" She fluttered those green eyes before him.

There was an extended pause. "Do hold yourself together," replied an unamused voice, but there was a hint of something in it - a hard-to-place hint. "There are those who work with us who are not *of* us. Those whose goals align with ours." He tacitly acknowledged her suspicions on the assassinations. "Although - " He paused. "Not all of our goals are *in* alignment these days." He shook his head.

At around that moment, Taleja felt it: a pinch in her chest - a pressure in her heart and a weakness in her knees. Volto Nero sprung back instantly and then, before it could become a serious threat, the pain alleviated. He stood there with his hand outstretched. "Case in point," he declared. "That was our mutual friend. Some, like her, are a bit too volatile; a bit too attached to their...personal issues. I'll speak with her, incidentally, whether or not you agree to work with us. We don't kill for pleasure or personal reasons here. She needs to be reminded of that."

Her green eyes gleamed at his response, a bemused smile played on her lips, then she felt it. That tug, that pinch, the sensation of a hand clenching the heart in her chest. The searing pain in her chest became unbearable as she tried to claw at her chest, though the sudden weakness in her body caused her to fall down suddenly, her body pooling on the floor on the cusp of an unconscious state. Her eyes opened wide as she gasped for breath, the skip of the beats replaced by an intense pounding heartbeat, her face feeling flush as it reddened. "That was very much personal." Her sumpfkrake peeled away from her dress, the creatures that had masqueraded as star-like shifting patterns made themselves known, expressing their distress at her presentation. She moved her hand as she caressed the creatures, and they began to settle down on her again. She began to move, righting herself, though she was coated in the filth and silt where she had fallen. Attempting to stand back up in these heels would be a challenge. "You saved me. Thank you."

Volto Nero nodded. "Some of us have principle," he said simply. "We stand for more than our own power. You don't need to have that to work with us, though." There was no visible smile behind that mask, but his bearing gave off a certain air of concern. Not much. "Should I bring you an opportunity in our mutual interest, may I count on you to act upon it?"

Taleja had hoped for some assistance, though, she supposes, a certain generosity cannot be stretched too far. She struggled to get up, but up she did, using her magic to clean herself off until she was suitably presentable. "I do have principles, Signore Nero." She brushed off the rest of the dirt. "Whether they are shared is a different matter, which is best discussed alongside a cup of tea and not on a dark muddy street."

As he presented his question, her green eyes flicked towards him with a shy smile. "Well, currently, you are scoring seven out of ten." Her eyes pointed forwards. "You used flattery to soften your target and build an empathetic connection. You don’t pressurize, either; you want to enlist their help with an illusion of free will." She moved a hand to symbolize his frame. "You have this air of a mysterious masked gentleman-renegade, which could make a girl quite smitten." She gave a playful wink as she turned to him. "You saved my life, and I am in your debt. If there is an opportunity of mutual interest that happens to fall into my lap, consider it completed."

With that, Volto Nero nodded. "Much obliged," he replied. If there might've been any reaction to her prods, he did not show it. Perhaps that was why he hid his face, or perhaps it was simply Volti Nascosti convention. "We shall certainly stay in touch." A moment later, he was gone.

In Tales From the Realm of Laelilon → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
For me:
"Like" was always a case of I like this post, and I read the post.
"Thanks" tends to be the post was exceptional or really enjoyed it, or it was very helpful, etc.
"Laughter" tends to be I found it funny, or something made me laugh out loud (in the good way, job well done!)
In Tales From the Realm of Laelilon → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
ꁲ ꂵ ꁲ ꋊ ꂠ ꂑ ꋊ ꈼ
ꋖ ꂑ ꂵ ꈼ
Day 1 [Night]
꒒ ꂦ ꀯ ꁲ ꋖ ꂑ ꂦ ꋊ
Lock and Key [Somerset]
ꌚ ꂦ ꐇ ꋊ ꂠ ꋖ ꌅ ꁲ ꀯ ꀗ
♫

She observed as the others introduced themselves and moved toward the group. Her eyes casually flicked between them, assessing their appearances, especially noting any weapons they might be carrying. As she approached, she noticed that Maltar, as he identified himself as, offered the chair before him to her. It was clear they were all searching for missing individuals, a shared purpose between them. Turning, she gave a polite bow to the others, drawing inspiration from the last introduction she experienced, "Hello, my name is Amandine," as she moved to take the offered seat. She glanced at them with a questioning expression, "Have you met my father?" wondering about the nature of the missing people and hoping for clues that might shed light on their shared purpose. To break the ice and foster a positive start to their relationships, she added, "Prepare to dine," opening her bag to reveal some roasted pheasant meat, including a leg, along with some unleavened bread to accompany it with.

© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet