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In The Hourglass Order → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Velles 19th

Location: Ersand'Enise - Animal Farm
Day of the week: Victendes
Time: Morning / Daytime
Characters: Zarina, Nu, Biby, Penny @Force and Fury, Rikard, Yvain @jasbraq, Taleja @Ti, Guy @dragonpiece






♫ She Hummed


Zarina hovered over the calm, misty waters of the cordoned off deep sea section of the animal farm in search for both solitude but also a reassuring presence. It had been rough the past two weeks and she had just about reached the limits with people in general. The cool sea air reminded her of a time far less complicated.There were very few beasts to disturb her quietude in this section as they all preferred the abyssal depths and artificial trenches made for them.

There was one exception: A pair of black, beady and predatory eyes that emerged from the waters like that of a crocodile, albeit longer. Under them was a large shadow, one big enough to cover the area of a shed. It had been attracted by the familiar presence - prey, it always thought - only for it to float completely immobile once it reached the surface. The tune became familiar after a week. It meant food. And its mistress always provided.

“You’re a big, dumb and menacing piece of work.” she spoke after a breather without ending her tune. “But not vicious. I would even say-” the beast-mistress angled herself to ‘lie’ on her stomach while floating a good twenty feet above the water surface. “Innocent.” she tossed a large slice of tuna into the water, and it slowly sank into the behemoth’s antenna.

The woman that had approached Zarina had laid out the details before her group had been made known. If there was one student in Ersand’Enise to deal with such Behemoths, it was her. The whole conundrum had her wondering what could cause the sudden aggression. The reputation of these threshers lent one to conclude it was the norm but serial strikes on ships was deviant behaviour.

Her mind wandered into the possibilities, but each time she pictured the potential destruction and slaughter an abnormal animal could do, she could only imagine herself and what she would have done to that boy, Fiske, had she not been quelled beforehand. She was going to kill him without paying any credence to his side of the story, much like a beast would. Her eyes hollowed, mind divorced from her surroundings. It took Nu’s stirring, her Bluewater Behemoth, to snap her out of it.

“You’ve had enough.” she decided before dousing the critter with an unpleasant chemical spell to convince it the session was over. “Like clockwork.”

Too many parts of the equation were missing, she figured. These things did not want or revel in glory like humans, nor were they close to intelligent. With a sigh and without a solid hypothesis, Zarina dove into the trenches blind. For now.



The meeting Penny conducted had done its job: They were gathered and Zarina could get a feel for the group. A particular sight had her posture stiffen just a little more.

Yvain. It took a lot of willpower to not just utter that name with disdain. The guy had supposedly humbled himself, but nearly being blasted to death and causing the mess that had burned a few bridges for the teen that only sought to help would understandably leave one sour for some time.

Affiliated. Guy was neither hot nor cold to her. From what she understood between Penny’s recently revealed (to her) status and this guy’s position, he was bound to her. Still, the shady nature of this operation’s premise had any sort of politics make her anxious.

Unknown quantity. She saw the odd interactions between Taleja and Jocasta. Perhaps the most brilliant student of their cohort. Perhaps a mind over emotion was what they would need to crack this.

Good kid. Finally there was Rikard. A powerhouse and known quantity. Smart but a child. The Venomhand’s brains were going to be crucial to keep a plan going.

Princess. A leader, perhaps? Or was she truly the hothead some might have suggested she was? It was either her or Zarina that would realistically take the reigns if personalities were to matter. Given who attended, however, perhaps the old legged royal was the better pick.

And there’s me. Someone’s gotta know what they’re doing, after all.

“Agreed.” Zarina crossed her arms as she regarded Yvain. “Let’s keep the trigger-happiness to a minimum, even when that big thresher is upon us. The smart thing would be to keep it alive to see what’s causing it to go mad. Hopefully without hurting our misguided peers.” her eyes narrowed on Yvain. “Or even our own allies by mistake.”

Out of her messenger bag loaded with supplies emerges the golden head of Biby, the house hippo, fully prepared for a trip. Why did she decide to bring it? One would have to find out, or just ask. The young and smol beast yawned wide and curiously ogled at every moving thing.

“That said, if the port’s in immediate jeopardy, we kill it. Straight up.” Zarina declared, solemnly.



Loadout:
Gear: Hetzelburg Homburg, Conquistador’s Gauntlets, Many Moons Armband, a singular silver coin.
Currency: Ỽ5
Consumables: Puffchicken Egg Salad with spratz cream coffee.
Familiars: Biby
In The Hourglass Order → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay






Velles 19th

Location: Ersand'Enise
Day of the week: Victendes
Time: Daytime
Characters: Abdel, Dayanara, Qadira, Seviin @Force And Fury, Penny, Johann, Xiuyang @Emeth, Lunara @BlackRoseSiren, Niallus @Echotech71, Oksana @Ti, Ashon, Dory @jasbraq, Fibonacci, shady Zeno.



When it was Abdel’s turn to read the document, he feigned indifference. The name Doridax was well known among the Yasoi and the decently informed. The young tethered had cut back on his part-time investigative endeavours for more spare time once his finances were in order but the connections he had made on the job remained solid.

A rich kid in Belleville. It feels tailored for me. he looked up to give a general glance to his potential associates. All were of a higher class or foreigners. Except perhaps for Ashon whose Yasoi-ness would have its boons, and Seviin should there be any sort of Tarlonese encounter. I’ve got a good hand here. Let’s see where this goes.

“I can check with a couple of guys I know, see if they can give us something more about any unusual activities in Mud- Belleville.” Abdel spoke courteously with a consistent air of neutrality befitting the image he sought to project: Normal and non-partisan. The money was good, but the Doridax name could be a pipeline to things money couldn’t buy. Goods and information alike. He smiled at the others, to Seviin in particular. “But I agree with you, Sister. I think this city is in need of more citizen behaviour. We did put our necks on the line for it.”

With that he turned away from them. “We can meet at that Terrace in a couple of hours and work from there. Gear up and all that until then.” with that, Abdel walked away.



“At least three thousand magi? Really?” a flabbergasted Abdel Varga was sitting before an old table in front of a Thalak souvlaki shop, Zeno Bucks in hand, with a middle-aged gentleman wearing a worker’s beret.

“Not just. I'll I've been sitting on this but I do owe ya' after what you did for my kid.” spoke the man with a husky voice. He leaned in to whisper the next bit. “They’ve taken a few gems that didn’t belong to them from monkey-land.” he snorted and spat by his foot at the mention of anything Yasoi.

Abdel, unfazed by any additions made by his contact, peered at the old parchment piece covered in folds. “And this is legit?”

“Sikes and a few others say they’ve seen some Yasoi kid a few times. As far as I can tell, the kid never made it back over the wall.”

The tethered teen bit the nail of his thumb as he pondered. Their meeting was soon and he had to make a decision. “Wouldn’t hurt to check, then.” he concluded with a shrug before chugging down his drink.

“Hey Cap’n Skugg.” the man that reeked of tobacco reached out for Abdel’s shoulder as he stood up. “With this sort o’ money at play, you may wanna watch your back.” the warning was enough to get the young bounty hunter to sit back down. “It’s bound to get many eyes on it soon. And if you’re going to belleville …” he looked over his shoulder, clearly wary.

“Spit it out, Fibonacci.”

“Watch out for these long-ear Cola-guys. Complete ball-breakers. If they’re not behind it they’ll definitely want a piece of that cake.”

An unimpressed Abdel cocked his brows. “I’ll be sure to watch out.”



Armed with two Skuggvars and an attire that made him appear no different than the average workman’s quarters dred, although with much better hygiene, Abdel presented himself to the residence indicated on the invitation. He instinctively removed his worker’s beret once in view of it, revealing well groomed, dark hair he had combed to the side. His perfume was also of higher quality than his projected look - a Maura perk, perhaps?

The two beasts he had with him dismissed any notion of Abdel being just a common street dweller - this was the hunter with the massive hounds, one that was hard to ignore when he was on duty. “I was told some folks needed a person finder?” was his introduction, one he had used a few times before when he found a job, with a toothy smile that went wonders with his growing acne on his chin.



Loadout:
Gear: Hungering Helm, Slayer's Helm, Black Beast's Blade, Unruly Dragon's Bridle, Screamer's Collar, Skuggvar backpacks.
Currency: Ỽ1
Consumables: Risotto al Formaggio di Capra di Mare.
Familiars: Dayanara, Qadira
In The Hourglass Order → 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





It was early in the afternoon following the Trials. The closing ceremony had been a fiasco, with sonic mages drowning out the crowd's whistles and boos with canned applause. Marceline had no love for Perrence and its aggressive brand of nationalism, but they had a right to be angry and, at the end of the day, the academy's corruption had been laid plainly bare for all to see. Then, portals had opened and people had gone home, but not all of them. A solid half had stayed and would be here for at least another couple of days.

Some would be at the party. In fact, almost everyone who was someone would be. That was why she was here, in Zarina's backyard, setting up tables. The pets were playing. The sky threatened rain just enough to make her apprehensive, and that, in turn, was enough to make her forget her greater apprehension. She and Tku had baited the bull during the auction. Juulet would be coming for her at some point. She had all of the pieces ready. Now, she just needed to put them into place and execute the plan. She turned to Zarina. "So, what did we need from The Groove, again?" she asked, "I'm probably gonna head there once the tables are done." She glanced up at the clouds for a moment and then back at her friend.

“Uhh, like, the power to conquer the sun. And maybe some magic wine.” answered Zarina as she was rehearsing the roles of her animals for the party. Always keen on putting the family to work in the traditional Virangish style, it seemed her past experiences were transferable to the education of beasts. “If you can find some helper demon, or somehow bring a small ab here for a quick energy boost, I'm game too. But otherwise? I just need more Champagne, mi hermana.”

Osman's training was paying off, and as Marci was preparing for her departure, a successful delivery of wine and shrimp-on-cream biscotti was made. The confused mollusk had its beady, dark eyes look up to Marci expectantly.

Quickly, still bustling about, Marceline responded in kind to Zarina's teasing remarks. Then, ambushed as she was about to leave, she reached into the little pouch she'd taken to carrying around for Domino and pulled out a treat for Osman. "I guess you've earned this, huh, little guy?" She nodded in Zarina's direction and hurried upstairs, bounding the steps two at a time. It came with an ease and agility she could not have imagined two years prior when it seemed as if she were headed for a short life mostly spent confined to a wheelchair.

She made her way to her desk, caught her breath, and grabbed some paper and a quill. Dipping it in ink, she began writing.

Dear Zarina,

The first thing I want to say is sorry. I'm writing this because I don't know how to say it to your face and I'm worried that you'll try to stop me if I do. You're probably standing outside of our secure deposit box doing the weekly pickup right now. When you get home, we'll talk. Until then, I ask that you listen.

By now, there's a good chance that Juulet is either dead or there was an attempted murder against her. That was me. I didn't do it out of hot-blooded anger or some sense of justice. I didn't ask others, except for Fiske, to get involved, because I didn't want to put them in danger. In this case, the less that you knew, the safer you were. You've... always been the big wing under which I've nestled, the big sister protecting me, ever since we met. I never had a blood sister and you're better than any I could've ever asked for anyhow. I didn't tell you nothing because I don't trust you; I'm telling you now because I do.

This was something personal, though, and if I've been caught, then the consequences are mine alone to bear. In short, she murdered Manfred. It was Juulet. Dami knows she's done all manner of horrible things since. She tried to kill Fiske and, I'm quite certain, Xiuyang too but, first, she was there in Mandelein when Manfred, Ismette, and Qasem died. Dory was the only survivor of that ambush and, irrationally, I suspected her at one point. Then Jocasta confirmed that she'd seen Juulet too. Forgiveness doesn't matter here. It's about the danger that she represents. Juulet is a mad dog who needs to be put down, for our collective safety and because she took Manfred from me.

I know there was some speculation as to why I took the items that I did from The Trials and, hopefully, it's clear now why I did: the magic disruptor because, without the Gift, she's just some skinny one-legged girl with a god complex and twisted black heart, and the twenty-five hour copy of myself so that, if she somehow overcame that, it wouldn't actually be me dying during the ensuing rampage. I'd just have the awful memories from it. Here's hoping that didn't happen. Yes, I'm committing murder. No, I don't do it lightly. Sometimes, bad people need to go away, or be made to, and it doesn't just happen. Good people or, at least, people like me need to do it.

I'm sorry for telling you this way, big sis. I just love you and I was worried you'd try to talk me out of it and I'd listen even though I feel, right now, in my bones so strongly, that she needs to die for what she's done and the threat that she represents. You're just... so good-hearted. You're the best. I mean that, from the bottom of my twisted black little heart.

Love,
Marceline Hoh Escarra


With that, she let it dry for a moment, folded it up, and sealed it in an envelope. She grabbed the keys to the box on her way downstairs, offered a cheery wave goodbye, and issued a promise to be back soon with the goodies. Ten minutes later, she'd left the envelope where it would wait until Lepdes. She took a deep breath, turned about, and headed for The Groove.



♫


Zarina stood motionless before the opened letter box she or Marci checked every week or so, although the recent revolution had delayed the habit by a few days. Her eyes were wide, hollow and fixed on the unfolded letter. Her hands became clammy from holding the same position for well over five minutes and her back wasn’t appreciating the posture either. Eventually, as the reality of its contents set into the tired teen’s mind, her hands began to shake and her heart rate skyrocketed.

Marci is Dead.

That was all that rang in Zarina’s mind. That was the only way to explain what had happened. To suffer another loss in which she was completely powerless was utterly devastating.

Once again, she could do nothing to save her sister.

Lethargic, Zarina zoned everything out. The paper fell to her feet and many passersby stared in her direction in silent worry.

Marci cannot be dead.

Her next mantra sprang life back into her paralyzed body. She broke the unspoken convention of keeping temporal magic under wraps and brazenly teleported from to the limit of her range until she reached the one place she knew she could find information on Marceline’s whereabouts.

BONK BONK BONK

The pinkie-side of her fist pounded against the door of the commons dorm many of the Tethered lived in. “IZZY! LUISA! FELIX!” she yelled out with no regard as to how angry she sounded. Dangerous even. If she did not get what she wanted there, she had another, far less pleasant lead to exploit.

While Isabella did not live here anymore, Luisa was home. "Zarina! What is it!?" The door unbolted itself and the door swung open. Her eyes flicked up and down the unexpected visitor for a second or so, her expression one of worry.

Zarina stared at the wheelchair-bound girl that opened the door. She had the attention of the tenants. Now what?

“...” she needed a moment to catch her breath. “Marci ...” the Virangish's voice was meek and gravelly from the exertion. “Do you know where she is?”

For a moment, Luisa studied her, hands moving from her wheels to her lap and fingers threading themselves together. She swallowed. "You think she's dead?" the girl asked with some worry.

Zarina closed her eyes and let her head slump down. “Gods, I hope not, Luisa. But something did happen.” she looked up through her hanging hair toward the girl on two. “Something bad. You don't know where she is, then?” a rhetorical question. She slammed her fist to the door frame, magicless of course. “Fuck. I need to speak to Jo, then.”

"You should," Luisa confirmed. "Listen, Zazz." She took a push forward and reached up to rest a hand on the other's forearm. "I can't just say nothing. I can't leave you in the dark." She shook her head. "I don't know much, okay? Marci... messed with that yasoi maniac - I don't know why - and she lost. She's not alright but she is alive. Jocasta and Izzy have been looking after her."

Answers. All kept from her. It felt like betrayal. Wide eyes shot toward Luisa. “You all knew. Fucking ...” she unleashed steam out of her nostrils as a furious scowl took form on her visage. She really wanted to unleash something, somewhere with Luisa as an easy target. But she had an answer, and the girl looked racked by guilt already.

Wordlessly, Zarina turned around and disappeared. Jocasta's was next with twice as many rude knocks on the door.

There was absolutely no answer.

Zarina grit her teeth. Then, for a moment, she actually used her head. A little drawing was in order.

There was nothing out of the ordinary, and then there was so much energy that it felt as if she was under a thousand feet of water. Jocasta appeared behind Zarina and reached out a hand for her. "Come in. Sit down. Behave," she commanded, "and I will tell you what I am allowed."

Crushed. Utterly so. That was the almighty power of Jocasta.

The respect Zarina had for this woman was immense, but it would never be enough to pardon the condescension she felt in this moment. The angered wildblood had been forcibly pacified, but a look of resentment couldn't be so easily scrubbed off her visage. Still, she took the hand and found the nearest seat to compose herself after taking the Jojo blast.

“Where is she?” she asked plainly, slumped forward with her arms rested over her knees and her chest still heaving.

"Safe from prying eyes, where she needs to be right now. Where she's asked to be." Jocasta answered simply. "I'm sorry you weren't told. The world's been a bit crazy this last week and... she's struggling."

“Prying eyes? Ya'hma. I'm not just some random prying eyes, Jo.” responded Zarina, indignant. “What the fuck happened?”

Jocasta sighed, opening the door and floating in ahead of Zarina until she was seated in her wheelchair once again. "She made a twenty-five hour copy, but those things are exactly alike, down to clothing, thoughts, and impulses. I wasn't aware either until I'd checked." She pursed her lips and set hands to wheels, twisting halfway to head for the dining room. "I think she was convinced that she was the copy. She had a plan. It went awry. Here we are."

Zarina shook her head. The explanation did not make her feel any better. “I want to see her.” she demanded. “I want to be there for her. I need to, Jo.” she looked up to the Tan-Zeno with a mixture of immense frustration and growing desperation.

"First, Zarina, come here." She turned back and held out her arms for an embrace. "I'm sorry for the sudden crush. You were roiling with energy and anger and..." She paused. "I can't take chances anymore." She waved Zarina in with her hands. "Hug me. I need it too. Then we'll talk, okay?"

The anger was still there. It was painful to keep it all in. The hesitation to come in for the hug spoke volumes of how she truly felt.

But she still went in, her long arms coiling around the seat-bound blonde and lifted her slightly for a tight embrace. “I'm sorry.” she whispered, mouth and nose buried into Jocasta's shoulder.

"I'm sorry too, Zazzy." She squeezed tightly for a moment and sighed before releasing her friend. "I was scared." She backed up a push and turned. "Follow me. We walk and talk." She glanced over her shoulder. "Marceline doesn't want to see you." She held up a hand to forestall immediate protest. "It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with her." She shrugged tightly. "She barely wants to see me."

Zarina walked with her friend and listened. She kept her head lowered and her eyes narrowed slightly. She focused on every piece of information, and after clarifications and corrections, she found something to pick at. “But you still see her.” she said, bitterly. “So does Izzy. Why can't I see her? Even once?”

Jocasta took a deep breath and, all at once, she whirled on the spot. She stared up at Zarina, a dozen emotions flashing across her face. "She was forced to overdraw." She glanced down sadly at her lap. "You know what that does to tethered, and she is a tethered, whether she wants to admit it or not."

Zarina stopped and looked down to meets eyes with Jocasta. “You lose yourself faster.” she confirmed, arms crossed. “If you're all doing this then it's much worse than the feet getting prickly.” she clenched her fists and shook her head. “Doesn't change shit, I wanna be there for her. Same way you were.”

Jocasta took a deep breath and released it, her face regretful. She nodded. "She's..." She glanced to the side and her fingers squeezed the folds of her dress so tightly that it bunched up. Her gaze shot up to meet Zarina's. "Like me now, Zarina. She's on two and there's no reversing it and it's ruined her."

Confronted with the severity of the situation, she stood adamant with only her breathing getting louder - heavier. “... All the reason for her sister to be there.” she turned and began to walk again, stone cold and clearly bottling a lot inside. “Then I'll find that little rat that didn't stop her.” she muttered with unadulterated rage in her voice.

"Zarina," came Jocasta's voice from behind her, "Do you love Marci?"

Zarina stopped again. “Of course.”

"And so do I." Jocasta rolled up behind her. "Do you trust our sister?

Zarina exhaled loudly. “After this? I don't know.”

"Do you trust me, sister?"

“I do.” Zarina spoke with more confidence. “I always did.”

♫


"Then listen to me, okay? Losing half of your body like this -" She ran the edge of her hand across her tiny waist. "Is like nothing you can imagine. It's not just the inability to walk, but basic, bedrock things: your independence as a person, your sense of what makes you... you, your vision of the future and what your life will look like, the way you know other people see you and how you're always the one who's different, lower, pitied."

She shook her head. "Zarina, I use the Gift to turn myself over in bed and lift my rear off of my seat every hour so that my bones don't poke holes through my skin." She swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself. "And when I forget and they do, or when I break one of those brittle, weak things, like I have at least thrice since we met, I use binding to put myself back together." She grimaced. "But I don't even feel it right away - not until I check every few hours or until I start swelling up. And then there's the pain in my back: constant and agonizing from sitting all day, or how I have to cool or heat myself constantly because my body can't do it." Her face became awkward, disgusted. "I would piss myself and shit myself were it not for the Gift and how I was taught to use it to assist with those... matters."

Her cheeks flushed red and, after a moment her eyes flicked up to regard her friend. "Those are things people on four don't know, because they don't see them and we tethered don't talk about them. They're things that Marci is coming to terms with, learning her way around." She shook her head a second time. "I shouldn't even be saying this, but I need you to understand that this isn't about you. It's about her shame, her vulnerability, and her embarrassment." There was a weak shrug. "She needs time. She needs space. She needs to find her own answers." Jocasta swallowed. "Around us, she's 'normal'. She has people who know what she's going through, who can help her learn, who she feels won't judge." She held up a hand again. "I know you won't, but it's perception that matters here and not reality. She loves you, but she can't face you. She can barely face us as it is, so I am asking you, my best friend, to back off - please - for her and for me."

The restless Zarina grew ever more frustrated with not getting what she wanted. All that mattered was finding Marci, no matter what she had become, and be there for her. Because she was her sister. And she'd move the world for a sister.

But the reality of the situation unfolded right before her under the form of the woman she respected the most. Jocasta's accursed state of existence was the living proof she needed. Zaz's restless legs came to a stop, and eventually she let her rear drop onto the nearest convenient surface. “I let this happen. I was so up my own ass handling that Dami-forsaken party to pay attention.” she wallowed in guilt, jaw clenched and fingers pressed against her skull.

“I may not understand, Jo, but you know, right?” she looked up to her Tethered teacher and best friend. “You know I'd do anything for you guys, right? I'd stake my life for you, especially for Marci.” she shook her head and clenched her fist enough to have her partially mutated claws to dig into her palm. “I won't force myself into her life. If she's that determined to cope this way, then I'll respect it. But I ain't gonna do nothing.” the head shaking increased as blood trickled down her pierced hands. “That pathetic rat of a boyfriend of her's - he's fucking done.”

"We needed that party, Zarina." Jocasta was implacable. "Dare I say it may have saved lives." She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, but twisted back, thinking better of it. "And I know how much you care. That's why I both trust you with my very life and know that you need tempering sometimes." Jocasta's voice became firm. "Fiske is a fool and I'm no fan of him either but, if you care for Marci as I do, you know her well enough to know that she'd have done it with or without him and she'd not have been stopped." Jocasta sighed, casting another tired glance over her shoulder. She threaded and unthreaded her fingers in her lap. "She was riding a high: win after win - and starting to believe in the myth of her own invulnerability; the infallibility of her own genius." She locked eyes with Zarina, searchingly.

With no target to direct her grief and rage, Zarina shifted her gaze with a focus on keeping it toward the floor. The unhealthy clenching did not cease and the breathing only got heavier. “You're far too accepting of this situation, Jocasta.” spoke Zarina with unshaken resolve in unleashing her anger as she met Jo's eyes. The damaged palms had already healed, leaving only rapidly congealing blood on her hands. “WE could have stopped her. WE could have changed this, you and me!”

The angry teen seemed to be looking for something, and after failing to find anything to put in her hand, she stood up and mercilessly stomped the chair she sat on. She really need to break something in a tantrum. “FUCK! That sack of shit could have opened his cocksucking mouth! SOMETHING had to be done! I could have DONE something!” and after a show of brutality and releasing far more anger than stemmed just from this specific predicament, she fell on her rear and his her eyes. She was crying.

Jocasta reached down and swung her feet from their footrest. No sooner had they thumped limply upon the floor than she had pushed herself to perch at the edge of seat. Clumsily, she levered herself onto the ground beside Zarina, wrapping both arms around her from the side. "Feels unsatisfying, doesn't it?" she admitted. "Fuck, I know it does." Idly, she stroked Zarina's hair, combing some of the tangles out of it, but she wasn't as gentle as she might've been had not some anger sparked inside of her as well. "Would be so much easier to hurt someone for this and, for the record, I swear to you that I will rip Juulet limb from fucking limb." She squeezed a bit tighter and, even without magic, her arms were strong. Then, she pulled back.

"But Marci's alive. She survived something that, by all rights, should've killed her. You know I haven't sugarcoated any of what comes next, but we tethered have the Gift. We can manage, and she will too. Just... be ready for her. Don't treat her any differently when she's back but don't like... avoid it: her... disability." Jocasta shrugged awkwardly. "It's not always an easy balance to strike, but I think you'll get it." She managed a supportive smile. "You have a way with people, and it's just Marci, after all: cute lil' shit that she is."

Sitting beside Zarina, Jocasta straightened, pushing her bottom off of the floor for a few seconds. "At the end of the day, she's her own person and made her own poor decisions. The past few days, when I haven't been busy risking my neck for some change around this place, I've been watching over her, and everything that's run through your head, well... It's run through mine too." She shrugged. "I've gone over what I could've done differently so many times I've lost count. I've thought of smashing Fiske's face in for not stopping her. I've been angry at you, to be honest, but this is nobody's fault but hers, much as we both love her, and that evil bitch Juulet's."

Jocasta sighed, nervously tucking some hair behind an ear. "I know I maybe sound insensitive or apathetic. I'm sorry if I'm not validating your rage well. We all need that. I've just... had longer to think at this point and come out on the other side of it. She took a deep breath and released it. "Ahn-Dami punished Marci for a mistake, but Vyshta spared her life." She posted her weight on one arm and leaned to the side. "Our sister will be okay. She isn't right now - she feels stupid, broken, and shocked - but she will be, I promise, and she'll come back to us. She'll come back to you. I trust that little Brandæble. She'll sort it out. Okay?"

Copious amounts of sobs, tears and snot had to be go through before Zarina composed herself. Jocasta's delicate handling of the situation paid off, even if time was the biggest actor in making the young dragon run out of energy to spare for wallowing. She had held onto her blonde friend quite tightly until they were made to part.

Brushing her face from the unflattering mess of mucus and dried tears, she looked up to Jo with red and still quite damp eyes. “Fuck, I'm a moron.” she spoke like there was something stuck in her throat. “I was gonna do the exact thing she did. Take out my rage on someone and have it backfire somehow.” she shook her head while aggressively rubbing her left eye with the bottom of her palm. Sniffles. “I just wanna see her, y'know? It's ... It's a lot, after everything that's happened.”

The still whimpering teen reached her hand out to hold Jocasta's without ever pulling her in. It was merely to have a connection with someone - to feel someone she trusted. “I can't lose more. Not after Miret, and Tommy, and now Marci ... Even if it's not forever.” she clenched the hand just a little. “It's why I'm asking you to not go after that psycho. If she comes for us, we'll deal with it. But ...” her second hand cupped the back of Jo's hand. “I don't want to lose more people that I cherish. Especially not for wretched nations, old power mongers or foreign monsters.”

Jocasta didn't quite know what to do, so she simply hugged back. When they finally separated, she breathed deeply, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and forced a reassuring smile. "I'll speak with her, when she's up to it. For what it's worth, I agree that it isn't healthy for her to be shutting everyone out like this. I think she'll come around soon, even if we don't exactly see her around campus for a bit." Jocasta shrugged. "It's just a big adjustment - a lot to learn."

For a moment, they lingered there in silence. Then, came the second part. "I'm a target as long as I live, Zaz. That's the nature of it." She sighed nervously. "But I can promise that I'll never make any unnecessary enemies. My wild days are done. I'm with you. Okay?"

fter a few deep breaths, Zarina appeared to be coming to. There even was a trace of a smile when she looked back into Jocasta's eyes. “I won't lie, I kinda need her too. I don't have the patience to keep Zeno Bucks family friendly on my own.” she partially joked after a loud sniff. “She'll be in my prayers until she's ready.”

The Virangish then reached for the back of Jocasta's head, just over the nape and pulled her in. Their foreheads met before she spoke. “Then when danger steps into our home, we all face it together, yeah? Nothing good ever comes when we wanna bear all those burdens like fairy tale heroes, habibi.” she turned her head slightly and smooched her sensei's cheek. “Thanks for being the voice I needed. I'd be lost and do something terrible otherwise.” she beamed a genuine grin at Jo. “Remember, I'll always be on your side. Just like I promised back in Torragon.”

Jocasta returned the small kiss, though she blushed considerably. She gave a small nod to go with it. "I know you will." She breathed. "I know and you have no idea how much it helps to have that." She smiled back. "But I never want you to risk yourself for me, okay?" She swallowed. "You and Marci, Ayla, and Yalen: you're good people with bright futures. We stand together -"

She snorted at the irony of her word choice, but then continued. "If anyone comes to hurt you guys, but I won't have you go out of your way and risk yourself for the monsters who come for me. They're on a whole different level." She pulled back a bit and flexed her rather impressive biceps. "But I'm pretty strong, you know. Right?" She smiled and reached forward, placing her hands on each of Zarina's shoulders. "What I need most is your support, your belief, and to know that you're safe." She slumped back a bit and sighed. "The Gods crafted me as I am for a reason - I have to believe it. There's no two ways about it: I stand out and I'm not about to let that strength go to waste. I'll be the next Hugo Hunghorasz if that's what's needed, and I'll do better than he ever did." A determined look came over her face. "Fairytale time, suunei!"

“Fairy tale time, Sensei!” dragon Zarina just smirked at her. “... I'll get you a new chair, promise.”
In The Hourglass Order → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




♫


The Trials had finally ended. What was a simple, action-packed week felt like months to some, but it was all worth it for the big top ten (and then some) as they claimed their prizes and bid generously during the auction. Zarina’s invite punctuated this chapter of their lives with what was hoped to be a positive note and she was still hopeful despite the very recent developments and accelerated tensions. There would be no such things during this homebrewed gala. When 1:00 HD hit, the party officially begun.

“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!”

At the main entrance door that remained open during the whole evening was none other than Horus wearing a hat similar to Zarina’s Homburg. A popular face and voice to greet the guests, with hats and other items gathered by the short but conveniently dextrous young Monkeybird to be stored in one of the nearby closets. The house had been arranged to accommodate for an influx of people, with tables added to the drawing room decorated with many appetisers. But the bulk of the activity was actually in the yard where three rows of tables were set with more foods and drinks aplenty.

Ellermane Bleu, courtesy of Desmond’s catering, was the main alcoholic beverage to go with the bite sized goods on the tables, but soon came a butt of Hegelan-approved beer to be set by the archway between the indoors and outdoors. Maat, the second and more colorful Monkeybird, made sure to tend to the nozzle.

““More? More? MOOOOORE! SLURP!””

Then came Osman, the newcomer land octopus carrying trays of biscottis with cream and shrimp as well as glasses of Meattu champagne. His tentacles stretched out to reach for finished glasses to switch them with a newly filled one. A brilliant server, to be sure, even if it couldn’t quite grasp any sort of order, it knew when to take an item and when not to.

Zarina, clad in a brilliant gold dress of both Virangish and Torragonese inspiration and long trumpet sleeves, was playing the role of host to a T, making sure to greet as many guests as possible with the usual politeness and pleasantries - even to those she didn’t quite remember. Big smiles, loads of energy, and an offering of expensive drinks to keep the mood up were her go-tos. Oh, and of course, she wouldn’t hesitate to show off her fancy new House Hippo in her handbag. The little critter was a tad overwhelmed, but also found itself consistently fed.

Technically Correct had arrived precisely on time, finding Johann to be one of the earliest arrivals to help the hostess prepare for the evening. Others such as Ayla, Ashon, Marceline and Kaureerah were there from the start by virtue of actually living there. And the Zeno Bucks staff worked to keep the dishes coming and the venue clean (as well as helping the animals/mascots).

The Soul Sisters were expected to arrive soon with a whole stage prepared out back dedicated to them and all other performers. Until then, Gonzalo, the barista stationed in the Workman’s Quarter, was the tune of the evening with his Laud, along with his troupe of merry musicians. There wasn’t a minute with some music.

Welcome to the Trials End Party at Zarina’s! Feel free to enjoy, reach out to people, do your own little skits for entertainment and so on! This is an opportunity to exchange with friends, new or old, before the world makes this difficult for you. Ellermane Bleu effects apply to all those who drink it.













In The Hourglass Order → 10 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

Abdel’s head pounded to the systolic rhythm that hammered relentlessly, causing him to rudely wake up. His heart was not beating fast, but it was beating hard, so much so that it overshadowed the intense prickling in his feet that caught up quickly enough.

It was impossible that he felt those so early, he had taken an aberration just a few days ago! His hands hastily reached for his limbs to find a wound, only to come out empty. He was, in fact, feeling las hormigas with the painful dullness that came with their endless gnawing. Distraught, her smacked his palms over his face to wallow, only to find a wetness on them.

Blood …?

From his nose he found some of it still leaking. It then came back to him, the sacrifice he had done for the others to keep the Arch Zeno in check. It all made sense. Dayanara went to lick his face as he recognized what had happened. Quickly he drew toward their last known location.

Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub …

Just one heartbeat, one that came with a less familiar energy signature than the others.

Zarina, Tku, Rikard? Where are you?

No matter where he searched, he could find them. And yet Alassa Tojarra, the reason they had risked their lives, slowly awoke from a chemical coma without an ounce of resistance put onto her. Something had happened. He had to intervene.

Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub …

“We’re going.”

Abdel pushed himself off with his arms and took a step-

“Argh fuck!” he growled and slammed his fist onto a nearby surface. The ants were far more intense than he had estimated, leading to an acute pain that quickly vanished. It wasn’t so much difficult to walk as it was unusually uncomfortable. He could only imagine the damage going on down there.

He soldiered on, Skuggvars in tow, until he infiltrated the ruined Enclave.

♫


Once in range, he stomped onto the gravel with his final step to get the magicless Arch Zeno’s attention, hiding the pain induced wince from the gesture. He stood a good thirty yards away from her.

“What did you do to them?” he asked, one hand on Qadira’s shoulder to keep her close, while Dayanara circled around Tojarra.

Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

Alassa Tojarra was unafraid and her regular pulse was proof of it. Even magically naked, pillaged and defeated she did not falter. It made Abdel a tad tachycardic.

The Arch Zeno shrugged. “They’re gone. Far away from here.” she rubbed her bruised chin. “If you’re here to avenge them, make it quick.” she barely acknowledged Abdel, and only gave a cautionary glance at the nearby dragon.

“I can’t let you go.” Abdel, in an attempt to look stern and immovable, looked rather green with his typically teenage voice. One thing he did nail was a proper stance, but even that looked so little to Alassa’s stone hard posture.

“I will not bring them back.” she spat back viciously as she turned around toward one of the violet buildings. “Kill me or leave, darhannic, but don’t waste my time.”

Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

Even in her hate and haste, she never faltered. Abdel was intimidated. This wasn’t like Niallus, an easily impressed young man that hardly thought his actions through. This was a titan, even without magic.

“I’m not Darhannic.” he corrected, sounding like a petulant child called a no-no name.

“I recognize your type. And the way you do things. Like that detestable girl.”

Lub-dub-Lub-dub-Lub-dub-Lub-dub-Lub-dub.

“That’s what you savage sand apes do.”

Abdel recognized the heartbeats, the tone and the sentiment. For a moment, he almost thought he had been talking to his shower-thought self. The aggressive voice he consistently argued and fantasised with in his alone time. And there it was, under the form of a hateful woman. Such clarity was short lived as his feet ached once more. Or perhaps this interruption only accentuated his increasingly extreme feelings.

“I can’t kill you. You will bring them back.” he answered somewhat meekly, but made a show of force with a light surge to her nerves, to which she inhaled deeply and flexed her muscles.

“You’re the one that stopped me. Tethered and strong.” she smirked. “I can see you tremble. You’ve done all that just to get me.” Tojarra opened her arms to taunt him. “If you’re not going to kill me, then you may as well let me go. They won’t execute me - not after this. Not with what's become of the world.”

Lub-dubLub-dubLub-dubLub-dubLub-dubLub-dubLub-dubLub-dub.

He could barely hear her anymore. His heart was killing him from all the anxiety and hesitation he was feeling.

Just put her to sleep. You must!

Abdel drew to capacity quickly enough. Tojarra didn’t even flinch despite her lack of defences. She only turned her head to grin his way.

She’ll never give them away. I can see it. She’s suffered everything I could do to her before.

The tethered clenched his fist, only to then suddenly fall onto his knee and wheeze out a grunt of pain. His legs shook in overexertion, prompting her Skuggvar to poke his side with her snout.

“You’re finally getting it.” uttered Tojarra with a voice that mellowed from her taunting and resentment demeanour. “You won’t ever find them if you kill me, and giving me to the new administration won’t provide the justice you want. All you can do is …” she began to walk. “Let me go.”

I need to keep her here! I need to do SOMETHING! I need to-

Drops of blood fell from his nostrils once more. In his overthinking he had pushed himself once more. All for nothing. Lost and forlorn as a child that thought himself more mature and harder than he truly was.

-for them!



Lub-dub.


♫


In the endless ringing to tinnitus in his ears, the merciless pounding of his distressed hard and the cruel pricking of his feet, he found some sort of clarity. No other sounds could penetrate his mind. None except the heart of the woman he had no real control over.

No.

The blood that ran through her body flowed so perfectly. The answer to a question that gnawed at his mind for days was right before him.

The silence enlightened him: There was nobody to cast judgement. Nobody could see what was behind the mask. Nobody other than a prisoner deemed kindred, and the Gods - the very ones that cursed him and his tethered friends into this pitiful existence.

“It’s not for them. Or for their Justice.” he muttered, barely audible to Tojarra but enough for her to stop and turn. “I don’t wanna kill you. Or give you away. Because I agree with what you stand for.” it was still Abdel’s voice, the non-threatening cracked one that oozed of awkwardness, but it was charged with purpose. And his intense gaze under his worker’s beret matched the Arch’s.

“Another one of these pathetic games? Or are you serious?” she shook her head and reconsidered even the notion of entertaining this.

“But I can’t let someone like you just walk free.” he shook his head like she did. “It makes me so angry to see how vapid and cruel this effort for Justice has made you. We could have done good work together if you weren’t such a resentful hag that would sooner see the world burn than let a few clueless peons run free in their sand dunes. Or denigrate someone for where they were born.”

Lub-dubLub-dubLub-dubLub-dubLub-dub …


The tachycardic melody only drove him more as he reached into his only pouch where something uneasy wiggled more and more.

Tojarra chuckled into a laugh. “You don’t know a thing ab-” she quickly turned to the right to face an unusually close gurgle.

Qadira was merely staring at her with no signs of hostility.

With a deep exhale, Alassa Tojarra straightened herself and looked back, only to be greeted by a massive, leathery maw that sucked in the entirety of her head. She couldn’t utter a word, and a few seconds in, she lost consciousness.

The Arch Zeno fell unconscious once more.

Although this time, there would be no friendship circle or ambitions for a brighter tomorrow.

There was only fire and malign inspiration, as the heartbeats silenced themselves into a bitter murmur.

Like my friends, I won’t give up on you. Nor will I let them, or yourself, ruin the work you’ve done, Arch Zeno Tojarra.
In The Hourglass Order → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




























In The Hourglass Order → 12 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Foodie's Mano e Mano Records


Teatro Sorridente

Abdel Varga

Ariadne Hyde

Vyshta's More Favoured

Juulet'oli'muustii'zan

Pluurii'daxtoil'asilan

Raffscallions

Zarina Al-Nader
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


It was both the blessing and curse of Zenobucks to be open just as Ipte gave way to Shune. It was still and dark, the sun just a glow on the horizon, the great hordes of commonfolk just rolling out of bed, the brilliant blanket of stars starting to fade from the brightening sky.

There was a serenity to it - a peace - and Ersand'Enise, that great burgeoning metropolis that always seemed to be welling with people, magic, danger, and opportunity, felt oddly intimate at this hour.

As a tethered, Marceline had been taught from the moment she first opened her eyes in the Refuge at St. Agustin, some girl with strange dreams, no memories, and no name, to block out the noise, lest it overwhelm her. In the silence of the desert, she'd practiced: a small unnamed person atop the sandstone parapets, watching their long, somber shadows skew and shorten as the vast golden sun peered over the horizon.

And every morning, she would return, as Amanda Escarra, her mother, observed and guided her from below, shaping the unnamed girl into a Marceline who might someday thrive outside of those walls. She learned the hum of the insects and the heat of the sun, the way the stones gathered it in and bled it out. She felt the people sleeping in their beds: the tiny pulses within their minds and bodies, the changing chemicals as they began to stir. Then came the voices, and how they devastated her at first. She shut them out and wished she couldn't feel them for, even here, deep in el mar de dunas, there were too many. So much movement, so much sound and heat and energy!

Over half of tethered failed to ever acclimate. They shut their sixth sense out, denying the half of their curse that was Gift. Gradually, in bits, Marci had opened herself. As mother's health had waned and she had moved from two to zero, the girl had strained to give her this present: the knowledge that it had all been worth it, that her daughter would succeed, that she might make something of her short life.

And then she had stood alone - truly alone - atop those walls, though sometimes she might sense Abuelo in the distance. Still, she opened herself, ever more. Still, she encountered the wonders of the world: how those small hills she had never questioned were a pack of halassa hibernating in the sand, the great reverberating rumble of the heavens as vast anvil-shaped clouds flowed like rivers overhead and then opened up to bring the desert to life. Then came the long grasses, the bees, and the lizards for those next few months, the enormous ancient shape of a distant sand wyrm in its endless trek across the wastes, far out there at the very hazy edge of her range.

How blessed she had felt to live in this world and to be able to sense the things that she did, but time began to steal the girl's happiness. By Marci's third year, as the Afortunado came to select her, her feet were alien things and her ankles could give her no more. Every morning began with strapping on a pair of braces and the climb up the stairs had become an arduous one. Her mother had well and truly cloistered and, for the first time, her imminent death had become a real thing, and a source of endless anxiety. The wagons that would come and go twice each month grew into objects of intense interest. She well understood that the sensory bombardment of the real world could be too much for some tethered, but mother had managed it in her younger years, when she had gone out on assignments.

Then, they had assigned her a wheelchair and bade her to practice and it had all come to feel so small and hopeless and limiting. By the age of thirteen, a deep anxiety had set in about her future, maybe even a malaise. It was only the arrival of six students of Ersand'Enise that had saved her, in every way possible.

Now, Marceline's footsteps, swift and sure, clattered over the flagstones of the city's streets. Her senses swept for the usual early morning denizens, and she made her way with purpose.

Dew sparkled on lawns and hedges and the iron balustrades of fine homes. A fox skittered towards the arboretum, where it kept its den. A cat rubbed against a planter box at the door of a townhouse, its eyes glowing faintly golden in the early morning murk. Marci reached into her bag and pulled out a smaller cloth sack as she neared her destination. Her senses were alive with the city now, as Shune finally burst over the horizon in all of his brilliance.

Somewhere up above, floated Jocasta, as was her early-morning custom. Born-on-Solstice and a handful of sunblessed sat on rooftops, recharging for the day. The aroma of strange sauces met her nose as she passed a guesthouse where some Retanese were staying and already cooking themselves a breakfast. One of the great bells of the cathedral lay dormant, its clapper gently swinging as a trio of pigeons landed on it. She could sense the tarnishing of its bronze surface: the subtle chemical changes.

Then, she was there. The fourth Zenobucks location - the one close to the Proving Grounds - was the newest, and they were on event hours, event pricing, and event staffing. She had determined it was in need of some extra care, especially with Tku absent, given that he was a competitor in the Trials, after all.

"Good not-quite morning!" she chirped at the staff. None of them were students by necessity, and a couple had been poached from their duties as carpenters, housewives, and washerwomen. "And thank you so very much for helping us out today." The booth was looking shipshape, but for one corner of the sign where the cheap wood they'd used was warping and pulling out the nail it was bolted in with. Marceline took a moment to focus her binding magics and render it passable. She made a mental note to replace it, contingency budget allowing.

Laying the cloth sack down on the table, she pulled out tarts for all four of the shop's employees: Muriel, the head baker; Lisette, the cashier; Vittorio, the deliveryman; and Franz, who handled maintenance and whatever else was needed - truly a versatile man. They wasted no time in ambling up and they were a good crew: capable, friendly, and generally problem-solvers where needed. Why, Muriel had even come up with a new type of tart the previous week that had been a hit with customers. They would be piloting it in an official capacity starting tomorrow. "Oh, and for the little one, Franz," Marceline added, pulling out a tiny bonnet for his newborn daughter. She spent two more minutes catching up with them, clarified a few things about the rollout tomorrow, and was on her way to the next store. Successful businesses did not run themselves, and Zenobucks - once little more than an inside joke - had become successful indeed.





It was a little over an hour later that Marceline was finished her morning rounds. The sun was up, all four locations within Ersand'Enise were open, and she had one more errand to run. Twice, she had nearly tripped in the areas of the city that had cobbles. Thankfully, only one of the shoppes absolutely required that she cross the picturesque little ankle-breaking stones. What it highlighted, however, was that her toes, with the vital balance they provided, had gone almost completely numb.

The shimmering coins jingled faintly in her coinpurse as the young tethered made her way through the Queensgate and out of the city. It took annoyingly long for, once more, there was something of a queue. A handful of tents and lean-tos hunkered under the palms and by the guardhouse and in them were yasoi who'd fled the invasion of their nations by the Tarlonese. Some appeared normal enough - or as normal as a yasoi could ever be - while others twitched or talked to themselves or looked about hungrily in ways that were profoundly unnatural. Addicts, the girl knew, feeling distinctly uncomfortable around their blank, leering stares, restless dashes to nowhere, and endless fidgeting. There was a reek to them too. "'scuse mem, I loss my wagon on go in," said one, grabbing at the folds of her dress, "lend coin Lachon pay back. Just need small lend. Lachon get wagon. All good!" His hands were on her and the girl stumbled back, nearly falling, and scampered away. Instead, she was stuck waiting in line while he and the other hovered around.

Once she was allowed through, Marci quickly made her way past, enhancing her speed with kinetic and chemical magics. The entire experience had unsettled her and she found herself happy to see the signage of the Vermilion Swirl. It was time for The groove and another Grey aberration. The last time she'd taken one had been back in Tiptos and it should've lasted her until the end of Mittria, at least, but here she was at the start of Assani. She hoped it wouldn't become a pattern. Maybe The Groove's merchandise was faulty. Maybe the place was a scam...

That was when she sighted Abdel, hanging around outside the famous - or perhaps infamous - pleasure house. Just like she had when they'd been children, Marceline snuck up behind him. "Well well well kiddo," she teased, "Fancy finding you here. I'd say I never took you for the type, but..." She trailed off with a merciless little grin.

Abdel perked up as he felt his personal bubble be a little too invaded. He preemptively turned to confront the little rogue, only to meet a very familiar face. “Well well,” he parroted, arms crossed before his chest as if she spoke some truths. He cocked a brow at the joke. “how's it going with Fiske, Brandaeble?” he smirked, eyes not-so-subtly shifting between her and the esteemed establishment they were, or were about to be, frequenting. “But really, what brings you here? Zeno Bucks aspirations?” he smiled with brief checks over his shoulder as if he was waiting for something.

Marci arched an eyebrow. "No, Abdul. I'm here to visit my secret hunky boyfriend, Chad." She tried rising onto her tiptoes to peer over his shoulder, but they were dead things: all the more reason for her to do this now. "Who ya lookin' out for anyway, though?"

“A friend.” the intonation and briefness of his tone, as well as the context of a brothel made his guarded posture all the more telling. Abdel stared at his childhood friend's eyes, lingered and then snorted. “An actual friend. Her name's Tiff. She-” then it clicked. “You're not here for business, are you?” his pointer finger stuck out of his crossed arms and wagged at her direction. “It's that 'secret' tavern-club thing, isn't it?”

Marci saw no point in hiding it. She nodded, crossing her arms as well. This was often how they seemed to speak to each other: behind crossed arms and layers of witty remarks until he just went earnest and she was reminded that they'd grown up together. "Yeah, it's The Groove." She sniffed and uncrossed her arms. "Stupid name, but very useful place." For a moment, she hesitated, as if about to say more.

Abdel snapped with the wagging finger. “That's it.” he pivoted to have the entrance to the establish on one side and Marci to the other. “Tiff chaperoned me the first time. I was hoping to see her again, but ...” he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I didn't, and still don't, have any of their coins. So ... I never found out if this was the real deal. Abs 'n' all.” he looked Marceline's way with an inquisitive eye. “So, is it?”

"Why do you think I'm here?" she inquired, kicking at some sort of nut that had fallen from one of the trees overhead. "Gonna go in and take a grey." She scrunched her face up for a second, annoyed. "Last one hardly lasted. My toes are fucked." Her eyes flicked their way for a moment before rising to - briefly - meet Abdel's.

Abdel's heart beat a twinge faster when he heard 'grey'. Not white, nor black. Grey. But then Marci's additional comment brought his brows to furrow. “Really? Was it just small? Or lousy, maybe.” he shrugged, opting for optimism before letting reality disappoint him once more. “Frankly, I'm giga-broke. But one of the girls here actually brought up work.” he paused, realized what he had said and shook his head. “In the Groove. Work in the groove. For coins. Figured if I was gonna make a living, I'd do it standing up.”

“Anyway, shall we? I'll meet up with Tiff later.”

Marci didn't wait for his hasty explanation. She began cracking up even as Abdel realized what it was he'd said. "I mean, shune..." She trailed off. "I don't even wanna make fun of that. It's too easy." She began heading for the door, shaking her head and still grinning. "You can come with me, but I'm not just giving you a sympathy ab, you know. They're... not cheap."

“And you're not charity, huh?” smirked Abdel, letting the lady pass first before they made their way to their exclusive club. “... How about a credit ab instead?”

The girls - and boys - of the Swirl could sense that Marceline wasn't here for their offerings and so their greetings were simple and friendly and perfunctory. She led Abdel past the bar area, which was at its emptiest at this time of day, and towards a curtained room near the latrines. She sighed and regarded him evaluatively, hesitating. "You're not gonna leave me hanging, right?" she asked with an unexpected intensity.

Abdel, on the other had, tried to keep himself tense-free. “You know where I live. And where my girls live.” he chuckled. “I wouldn't do you dirty, Marci.”

She seemed to slacken a bit at that. "Yeah, I know. Sorry." She laughed weakly and scratched at the back of her head, kind of like Rikard sometimes did. "It's just... you know: people like us really need this stuff and I always have to keep enough cash on hand just in case." She forced a smile and a pep in her step. "I can spot you for now, even interest-free this time."

“Interest-free?” Abdel grimaced. “Who are you and what did you do to Marceline?” he jested. “This is almost too good to be true, if you ask me. Either the abs are not what we thought, or these coins are going to be the end of me.” he sighed.

"I am a generous god," she chuckled, pushing through. Beyond was a dark room, and a couple of large shadowy figured hovered about, but the underaged duo was never approached. "But I have my suspicions as well." She twisted and shrugged in the dimness. "trying to stay optimistic." She led Abdel to a door near the back, then, and opened it to reveal a closet within. "Hand," She commanded matter-of-factly.

“Sure thing, Jo.” the hand was ordered, and so it came.

And, finally, they set foot into the Groove, the supposed salvation of their kind.

Abdel's attention was quickly taken by something that was not the aberration café, or even the bar. “Is that a frog?”

Marci knocked on the back wall in a distinctive pattern and then... stepped right through, taking him with her. Inside was, well... The Groove. It still hadn't quite lost its wonder for her either. "You know, I've never actually asked," she admitted. "Looks kinda intelligent, though, right?" She'd lowered her voice, of course. "Or as intelligent as a frog can be, at least." She'd released his hand and was leading him towards the bar anyhow, sparing glimpses in the strange being's direction.

The closer they got to the bar, the easier to was to notice the sign next to the notorious Goroci. “'Cee Weird Sign One. Is - Is that a lot?” he took a seat but just couldn't get his eyes off the improvised stand of the Zweihander wielding individual. “If it is, there's your guarantee.”

Marceline had seated herself as well. She glanced over her shoulder. "Abdel," she replied, voice barely above a whisper, "you don't have to go on a suicide mission." There was a quick, tight smile. Meanwhile, a couple of yasoi were letting out sighs of delight as they twirled about inside of black aberrations. A sickly-looking old woman took in a white and seemed to recover before their very eyes. "I trust that you're good for it. Pay me back when you can. Okay?"

Abdel turned to look at her. The levity was nowhere to be found in his eyes. There was something in there, something serious and that needed to get out. Anger, or maybe fear, that grew exponentially when concern mistaken for pity was tended to him. But, quickly enough, he smiled with his features softened. “Almost had me there,” he shook his head. “but we've seen the worst before, haven't we, Marci?” his elbows rested over the counter as he leaned forward. “Dictators, demons, infested dragons ... What's some Froggy odd job with a bit of peril at this point?”

She snorted. "That's exactly why I trust nothing at this point." There was an unsure smile that grew, with some coaxing, into a smirk. The bartender was a thin, towering, unusual-looking woman who strode up to them silently. She must've been over eight feet tall and was distinctly yasoi and... something else. "Hello, dears, and what can I get for you?" she offered, tilting her head. With every word she spoke, a series of colours and images that seemed to support her meaning flashed about her.

Abdel looked up to acknowledge the unusually tall woman. Ogauraq, he thought, with a good serving of Yasoi too. “Uhm,” he looked at Marci for the okay before passing the order. “Two,” he pointed at one of the options on display. “Greys ...?”

"Small greys," Marceline hastily amended, and the towering woman bowed her head in a very Retanese way. "And that will be all?" Images of money and conclusions and the aberrations flashed through the air around them. Marci seemed entranced. "Oh! Why yes," she confirmed, taking out the necessary coin and blushing. "Very good. I certainly hope they do the job." The barkeep smiled and moved off: huge and ponderous on the one hand, incredibly graceful on the other. Marceline leaned in "Is that... an ogre-rack?" she whispered with no small measure of wonder.

Abdel's zoned out completely, he himself entranced by the aberrations. When beckoned by Marci, he had to shake himself out of his gluttonous daze. “Huh? Oh.” he shamelessly gawked at the bartender. “Yeah. They always do the funny image thing too. We -” he was about to go on a tangent. A not so pleasant one, considering what happened to the giants of ReTan during their visit. “Nevermind.” he focused on what mattered. “Bon appétit, I guess?”

This did not go unnoticed by Marci, but she wasn't about to prod. That wasn't the sort of relationship they had. The bartender arrived and with a surge of magic and a double snap of the fingers, a pair of cantaloupe-sized grey aberrations appeared in front of the pair of young tethered. "You enjoy it all, now. Alright?" More of those images flashed about.

"Guten appetit," she replied, heart already starting to beat faster. She wanted it and now it was hers. Marceline reached out and...

Out of the Vermillion Swirl came out two teens with swollen with energy, hopes and RAS. The Greys, as they call them, had done their work and the staff waved yet another set of happy customers goodbye.

“Really makes you think,” Abdel couldn't help but question his blessings. “how do they get these?” he said as the overflow of energy had him do a couple of leg intensive stretches. The persistent ants pricking his feet were gone were gone.

Marci was busy flexing her toes back and forth. She breathed a deep sigh of relief. Everything was back to normal. Jauntily, or perhaps just to bleed off some of the excess energy, she twirled on the spot. "Oh, I wonder quite a bit as well," she admitted, coming to a stop. Her hair swished about her and she took a moment to reach up and fix it. "but as long as the keep-me-not-crippled juice keeps a-comin', I won't ask any questions..." She furrowed her brow and there was a surge of magic as she dropped a sonic negation bubble around them. "unless there's a way to cut out the middleman, of course."
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Death. Destruction. Pandemonium!

Core tenets of the Mad Avatar, ordained by the voices of the black tears in the world. All that stood in her way, all those that were a stain to her grand design, all that failed to quell her fury, they had to perish.

Dorothea nearly lost her life. Yuliya was next. But before long, an awe-inspiring flash of light rid the world of the Mad Avatar. The shunned hero, Born-on-Solstice may very well have saved many lives. But only Intaba knew this wasn’t a once and for all deal. Vaughn Marbrand made his move, and Juliette was now among them once again.

So help the established order the day the siblings make peace with their endeavours and unite.





♫


When Juulet came to, still quite dazed, she was in a room, on a bed, surrounded by the fluffiest pillows. Her childhood stuffed toy, Miss Monke, was there beside her. Leaning over her was... Tannifer. "Oh thank Oraff!" she exclaimed, "You're okay!" There was no pretense. The yanii leaned in and enfolded her in a warm, tight embrace. "We've been looking for you for so long," she bawled, blinking back tears. "So long, sugarplum." She pushed herself back. "And you're so..." Her eyes searched the yasoi's. "Grown up now." She glanced over her shoulder. "I can't believe we've found you."

The groggy and very recently half-alive Juulet awoke to ... Yaniis. Not just Yaniis - familiarity. The first thing that hit her wasn't their faces, or voices or even the linens. It was the smells. The odour of a person, even through their cologne was recognizable to those close to them. This woman's evoked memories, but the plush by her was the one to trigger the most. The hug was met with surprise and a half-hearted pat from a still dazed Juulet. A stark contrast to the consistently aggressive and bombastic creature that terrorized Ersand'Enise.

She silently reached out for the toy, looked at it with longing. Tannifer could tell she remembered, if only a little bit.

“That's what happens when years pass by.” she remarked as she regarded her elder sister. “Many, many years.” a twinge of bitterness could be found in her tone, but her eyes remained half-lidded with little emotion to be communicated. “You've gotten old too.” she smirked, head tilted cheekily. The plush was clenched close to her chest.

From the nearby kitchen could be heard the pop and sizzle of something being cooked on a stovetop. The unmistakable aroma of omelette, with Mycormish parsley and Lindenholdt sausage slices, wafted towards her.

For a moment, Tannifer's face filled with rueful mirth. "I thought I'd hidden the greys pretty well," she laughed, tilting her head in the exact same way. They were nearly mirror images of each other. Then, her expression saddened. "I'm so sorry, suunei." She swallowed and reached out for her little sister's cheek, to stroke it. This was very much not the roguish, fly-by-the-wind zeno that most students knew. She seemed an entirely different woman. At the last moment, she paused, as if unsure, as if waiting for some sort of permission. "It happened so suddenly. You were there and then you weren't and... Shune, we tried, but we couldn't find you." She shook her head. "We searched for years. You were deep within yasoi lands, weren't you?" She swallowed and shook her head bitterly. She opened her mouth as if to ask more, but then a small thump to the side drew her attention. There was a cat there: old and grumpy, with brown and orange stripes.

Juulet initially went to lean into the attempt caress, but found herself quickly retreating back when the hand that touched her was not the one she had grown to know and love. It didn't feel right. Only one ever showed this tenderness to her.

“I was with my mother, yes. In the homeland.” she answered somewhat dryly, in an almost defensive manner. “Everything was fine,” she claimed, her look intense at first like she was trying to simulate confidence, but upon meeting her sister's eyes, she softened. “I promise. I was alright.” she smiled, internally hoping the subject would just vanish.

Luckily for her, a distraction occurred. A cat! “Is that Mister Biggles?!” she was just about ready to bounce, but just reached for the animal to tug it close and join the monke. “He's so big. He was sooooooooooo small! Teenie tiny. Yer a grumpy one, aren't you, huh?” she nuzzled the poor, old animal that likely wasn't used to so much attention. “So, what's cooking?”

The cat tried to squirm away, but it wasn't able to muster a hiss. After some time, it settled into dull acceptance.

Tannifer, meanwhile, could sense that her younger sister - half-sister, in truth - was very much not the girl who'd been stolen away a dozen years ago, and how could she be, in all honesty? Fine? she thought, You were aberration mad and minus an entire leg! Yet, it seemed a sensitive topic and Juliet seemed happy enough and that was what was important right now. The Zeno knew when to back off. She retracted her hand and rose. "You don't recognize the smell?" Tannifer shook her head. "Where's that bloodhound sense of smell you used to brag about, hmm?" Turning on her heel, she began padding softly to the kitchen. "Don't stand too suddenly," she added, motioning in passing at the girl's crutches. "He took most of the sickness out, but, well... you know how it is with balance after one of those."

That both elder Marbrands had taken them in the past was no secret between the three, but their younger sister, half-yasoi to boot, had been to young to join in. She had only just started to develop her first hints of magic when she'd been stolen.

Mr. Bigglesworth - or Biggles, for short - merely dug his claws into Juulet just enough to cause discomfort and ensure his grip. He let out a small noise of feline annoyance.

“Eggs.” Juulet, or rather Juliette in this household, realized quickly enough. “I haven't had chicken eggs since ...” she wiggled her nose and squinted. “A while. And meat. Defo some meat. Oh yeah.” and despite the warnings, she hopped off her bedding after gently prying the discontent cat off her. Still, even with her experiences and inclinations, she regretted not heeding the warning a little more as she nearly fell on her rear and just barely found balance with her crutches.

“'Ey, Vaughn.” she called out, her voice changed but the cadence was almost depressingly nostalgic as if time hadn't passed at all. She made her way to the source of the food with the help of her crutches. “I heard some guy called Marbrand ate shit with the school-” she couldn't help opening with a little bit of provocation. “Did you actually shit on the Yanii squares?” an impish smile took form on her visage as she regarded both him and the feast dedicated to her. “Badass. Heh. Heh.”

He was just scooping the omelette delicately into a plate and he scowled. "Still a little fuckstick, I see." He shook his head. "And you know that was a good job." There were beans, as well, and toast, and her old favourite: lindenholdt sausage. Vaughn slid it onto the table and went back to the stove. "Pay was sweet, and I got to steal all their secrets." He winked. "Tanny's still there, you know."

"Haven't managed to get fired yet," she agreed, sitting across from her sister. Vaughn slid a second plate her way. "I missed you, kid." There was no big sappy speech, no attempt to hug her, or anything like that. "Lots." It wasn't his way. He was thirty-two and, by his reckoning, she was nineteen now. They were far from being peers but, while Tannifer had seemed a bit like a mother at times, he'd made no pretenses at being anything more than someone who'd teased and played with his little runt of a half-sister.

He brought the last plate over and sat at the head of the table. "First time in a long time - even for me and Tanny here - don't tell me if my cooking sucks, okay?"

“Fuuuuuck youuuuu.” Juliette flipped off her brother and took a seat. Her early education had gone out the window and her posture could be generously described as casual. Nothing ladylike. A little fuckstick indeed. Immediately she dug into the coveted sausage and couldn't help but speak whilst eating. “Fwuck yew fer bein' - Mmm- such an awesome cook. What the fuck. Why teach? You should do this.” and, for a moment, she immitated Vaughn's voice, accent and all, “Where's m'fuckin' lamb sauce?!” she tapped the table a couple of time before continuing her feast.

It was a nice moment, one most would believe she'd have forgotten, but clearly she hadn't. This was home, and for a moment she could forget what she truly was. “I-” she pursed her lips in hesitation. “Missed you too. Even papa. But, I couldn't write to you. Not with the blockades.” she regretfully expressed, although were there ever such embargoes in Yasoi lands?

Then she regarded Tanny, her half-sister and a near monther-figure. “You might not have a job anymore after this. I fucked up.” she realized, eyes peered down and jaw shifting in growing nervousness. “I fucked up hard, and because of that you did too. You shouldn't ...”

For a brief while, there was laughter around the Marbrand family table: Vaughn, Tannifer, and Juliette brought together for the first time in years. Biggles wove his way between the various legs beneath it, rubbing up against them, purring, and being a generally adorable nuisance. It was a stark contrast to how things had been for far too long.

Then, as all good things do, it had to end. At Juliette's words, Tanny regarded her and, for a second, there was a hint of sternness. "I shouldn't what?" she replied, "let someone hurt my sister again?" She shook her head, stabbing at her sausage. "I won't fail you, Juli, never again."

Vaughn's face was serious. "They won't send their dogs after me. It'll either be an arch or nobody." He shook his head. "I'm not defenseless."

"And they keep me around in hopes of gettin' to him," said Tanny, jerking a thumb in her brother's direction.

He nodded, swallowing some omelette. "But here's the truth, kiddo:" His eyes both narrowed and gleamed. "We're strong, and we have strong allies." A grin grew. "Yeah, you goofed."

Tannifer nodded. "Nothing wrong with some of the good stuff, but you know you've gotta self-regulate." She pursed her lips. "Or that happens." She tilted her chin back at the bedroom.

"Anyway, truth is, they're scared of us." Vaughn was grinning now. "And with all three of us?" He laughed and leaned back, dabbing at his mouth with a kerchief. "We can really start to do it. We can build our own power base. We can topple this whole fuckin' order."

Tannifer arched an eyebrow. "Or just do family things in peace..."

He shrugged, fingers drumming on the tabletop. "Yeah, or that," he admitted. Notably, perhaps, they hadn't spoken about their father. A couple of glances were exchanged. If it was a large kitchen, the elephants hiding behind the furniture had the potential to make it seem much smaller than it was.

It was there that Juliette remembered who she was - Juulet, the true Avatar of Vyshta. And her remark, initially one of concern, had another facet of pride and hubris worthy of one convinced they were a God.

“You shouldn't have, because those nothings couldn't do anything to a Goddess.” she said in a tone that could be interpreted as a bad joke at first, but the lack of any follow-up made it quickly come off as genuine. “I was fine. You shouldn't have fucked your gravy wagon over my bullshit.” she leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms, stump over her opposite thigh too.

Then the notion of family came. Juulet felt a warmth take hold - something good that she felt like she had to stifle. It felt too good, to the point of feeling like an indulgence, and thus a weakness. She was beginning to feel too vulnerable. “I can't stay.” she said bluntly. “I ... Want to stay longer, but I have a responsibility to my people. As their light and leader.” the way she spoke, it was the Juliette she had naturally emerged from over a decade of absence, but something that sounded recited.

However, she didn't let this wave of cold spoil the moment. “But you're right. Us three's a banger. After Yasoi lands are saved, we could do some good to the Yanii world too.” she regarded her brother in particular with a complicit grin. “Or just chill ... Maybe take a break before the six years pass. Kinda thought about that until these Grey islander fucks rushed me and-” she shook her head.

Vaughn very much recognized, in that instant, what he had suspected all along: that his little sister was quite insane. Twelve years apart and... Gods only knew what the world had done to her. For starters, she'd been fed a consistent diet of aberrations. The addiction was obvious and severe. Then, they'd taken her leg and... had people simply begun worshipping her as the fallen goddess' avatar or had she purposely crafted herself into the role? A darker thought occurred to him. She'd mentioned a 'mother' earlier. Had someone else done it instead? In any case, she'd have died, beyond any shadow of a doubt, had he and Tanny not intervened. They'd been unsure. They'd taken the risk. They'd been right. It was her, but it was... not her. No, that was wrong. It was Juliette, but she'd grown wild, feral, outside of their supervision.

Not that Mr. Bigglesworth seemed to notice. The cat appeared to be making up for lost time, rubbing quite aggressively up against Juliette's lone leg and purring, batting playfully at the tips of her forearm crutches, gnawing on their goma rubber treads.

Tannifer, finishing her omelette, smiled grimly. "I wouldn't dream of trying to stop you, but... don't just disappear on us," she entreated. "We're stronger together, and..." She sighed, fussing with her hair a bit. "Doesn't hurt to have people who have your back, even for the strongest of us."

Vaughn, not quite finished eating, placed his knife down gently. "Then you go," he decided, "and be the goddess they need, especially with the Grey Fleet." He stood and pushed his chair in, signaling an end to the affair.

“Anyway - Is Papa still kicking?”

"Father is..." He shrugged.

"Gone," Tannifer confirmed. "Aberration madness." She wrapped her arms around herself almost... protectively.

Juulet scoffed, and then chuckled. “Lightweight.” she muttered at the announcement of her father's passing. Then, she laughed with the shakiest of voices. “Fuck. I'll miss the man.” she clenched her fist and raised it, hesitant to just unleash like she always did, only to let go soon after.

Vaughn nodded. "Petrified, in the end." He scowled. He could've warned her to learn from their father's example. He could've lectured. It wouldn't have helped. He loved her, his little sister, but he had to let her go. He could tell that the feeling was mutual.

Tannifer brushed around the table to embrace Juliette. "You stay safe, you little shit, okay?" She reached up and brushed some hair from the teen's face. "Use every ounce of that godly power if you've gotta, understand?" She shook her head. "Well... I'm sure you do."

"Oh, and if there's anything you wanna take with you, help yourself. It's yours, after all."

Vaughn was leaning there against the counter: shoulders broad, arms crossed, watching his younger sibling. Breakfast was cleaning itself up behind him, in the grip of chemical, blood, and kinetic magics. He nodded her way. "Write sometime, huh?"

Things remained sentimental, something Juulet had never been good with. The discomfort was evident with the avoidance of eye contact whenever Tannifer manifested her cares and worries. “Nah, I won't write.” spoken like a true brat. She reached under her leg to seize the increasingly affectionate Biggles for a brief cuddle session, even if the notion of being held in such a manner never enthused him. “I'll just pop in here. Now that I know I'm welcome.” she smiled. “I figured after being gone for so long ... I guess I overthought.” she shrugged before releasing the poor animal with a peppering of kisses on his head to go.

It was Juliette's turn to be showered with affection. She still didn't quite know what to do with something so ... Genuine. Her arms closed in a mechanical motion as if her joints had long since petrified. Her body was stiff, on guard. But eventually, after resting her chin over her sister's shoulder, she let herself melt into it. Eyes closed and deep breaths to take in the finer details of the moment. “I'll be safe. Not so sure about some fucko's that think they can pull fast ones on me.” As departures were inevitable, Juulet reared her head more and more. This wild critter was going to be trouble no matter what, and yet it seemed her family wasn't going to give up on her. Gods, she missed them.

“Actually-” as she presented her flat hand before her sister she had since parted with, Miss Monke appeared on her palm. “Monke. She kind of reminds me of a friend from Hyparii. And he goes to school here too. Far to good for us scumbags.” she chuckled.

It was on that note that they parted. Vaughn sighed when she was gone. Tannifer closed the door with her own hands instead of magic. Then, the two of them were in this room together, alone, for the first time since their father had gone. "We can bring her back," Tanny said, with a shaky sort of certainty. "She's been through the wringer, but she's still there. She's still her."

Vaughn's arms remained crossed, his eyes lingering on the door. He dropped a sonic bubble around them, just in case. "Maybe," he allowed, shrugging and finally peeling his eyes away. "But whoever 'mother' is, we don't have a chance until she's dealt with."
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




The whole derby was essentially free time to share between themselves. When the aberration chaos occurred, they were perched safely on a dragon that had no interest in joining the maelstrom of death below. Before any sense of heroism could take them, however, the Zenos had taken control of the situation and the event was cancelled early.

“Well,” Zarina hopped off her grounded dragon, right at the back of her property with the fire melon still in their possession and neutralised. “we did good. Didn’t we?” she offered her hand to the object of her immense affection with a shining smile greeting the Yasoi that had recently returned from war. “Ah!” the Virangish girl clicked her tongue. “Before I forget - I have something for you.”

She gestured toward the cellar. The large Froabas behind them was first to look in that direction in expectation for a treat. “Right, right.” she produced a steak of dried meat from one of her pouches and hurled the thing right into the beast’s maw.

Miret cocked her head to one side. “Well, I had something for you too,” she replied with an enigmatic smile, “but ladies first.” Much as she loathed closed in spaces and, particularly cellars, she made to follow.

♫


“You did?” Zarina perked up after failing to hide her surprise. The dubious grin had her visibly nervous. “Hah, way to make me conscious on whether my gift's good or not!” she giggled as they descended. With a flick of her wrist, the nearby lanterns were lit up, revealing multiple crates and tools stored inside, as well as a door leading to an adjacent room.

With a light kick to the corner, a crate unfolded itself in the most satisfying manner imaginable and revealed a crescent shaped mass with a sharp edge. The thick end of it easily identified it as some sort of claw. “Voilà.” Zarina gestured dramatically. “Sand Wyrm claw. 'Cause, you know ...” her hands went to her hips as she fumbled a bit with her words. “War and stuff. I probably shouldn't be doing this, giving top armor material stuff, but ...” she pursed her lips and eyed her beloved Yasoi's visage. “I'd be real heartbroken if something happened to you.”

“Aww shucks,” purred Miret, “You really know how to butter a girl up.” She dawdled around, glancing uneasily up at the ceiling. But then came the gift, and it was... quite the rare thing. “Hah!” the yasoi laughed. “I'd be pretty gutted too,” she admitted, accepting the gift. “Sand wyrm claw... where in the five hells did you get this?”

“Uhhh.” Zarina looked Miret straight in the eye, deadpan. “Torragon. From a Sand Wyrm.”

Miret blinked. “It, like... died?” She arched an eyebrow uncertainly.

“No,” Zarina smirked. “I made a trade deal with it.”

Miret's eyes widened. They remained that way for a second before narrowing. “Oh... Hah! Aha! You're messing with me. Holy shit. You really killed a sand wyrm?”

Zarina snorted. “You know, I did make a sort-of deal with one before.” she crossed her arms and feigned some exaggerated smugness. “But, yeah, me and some comrades. Like, a year ago. The thing was huge - this big.” she stretched her arms out as far as they could to add to her skit. “And aberration mad. We almost didn't make it.” then she tapped the big piece of Wyrm. “Anyway, yeah, all for you! You may needa very good smith, however.”

Miret leaned in and kissed her, one leg up in behind her, hands clasped at the small of her back, fairylike. She pulled back, smiling. “Well shucks, now you've got me worried my little souvenir is gonna pale in comparison...” She'd been carrying a rucksack with her the entire time and had only put it down once they'd gone indoors. She began to reach for it.

Zarina was completely disarmed by the kiss. All the faux-confidence and flexing just melted away. She held onto Miret by the neck, even as the grand reveal was about to occur. Although the suspense barely got to her, as her attention hardly alternated from the Tanso survivor's visage. “Glad you like it.” she whispered.

Miret held the bag out. She batted her eyelashes and giggled. “It wasn't easy to get,” she admitted, holding back a large smile. “They don't usually allow us war trophies and all." She blushed, “But -here - take a look! It's the severed head of that bitch queen!”

Zarina flinched. Did she hear that right? The smile was still there, and she let out a giggle. “No shit?” her heart began to beat fast. The Yasoi's acting was on point, if it even was an act. “Isn't this how the wild folks of the other continent propose?” she joked, but concern only grew. She began to draw - only a little of course - just to peek inside the veil. Was she in for a gruesome surprise, or did she fall for a grand troll?

Miret nodded earnestly. “It is customary to bring the head of a fallen enemy to your beloved in my culture.” She blinked and smiled uncertainly. “This is how we Tarlonese demonstrate that we will provide and protect from the dangers of the unforgiving wild.” She thrust it with greater enthusiasm into Zarina's arms. Something vaguely round thumped against her chest.

Zarina backed up, only to actually have some space between them as the spherical souvenir from Tanso was thrusted into her arms and chest. Fuck. She did her best to barely cover any surface of the 'gift', mortified by the notion of feeling a nose or eye cavity. She looked up to Miret with an uncertain smile. “O-okay then.” she just had to be sure. The back was loosened and slowly opened to reveal ...

Indeed, it was a head…

Of lettuce.

“Savages, cabbages,” Miret joked, grinning widely, “Similar sound, nuh-uh?” She flipped her hair over a shoulder. “This is Eluuxo,” she explained, “a rare and valuable plant that has an effect like coffee, alcohol, and... well, it excites one in other ways as well." She pursed her lips. “I did take me down a bitch queen of Tanso,” she admitted, “and her palace was just full of the stuff.” Miret shook her head in disappointment. “Bloody degenerates.” She smirked.

A cabbage. A fat sigh of relief was warranted. “Fucking hells.” a big burden gone, although a tad bit of frustration had to be released in the form of a harmless punch to the shoulder. “Eat my ass, you had me there you wicked bruja!” she shook her head, and then took a moment to admire the head in her head.

Then, she cackled. “Other ways, eh?” and with little hesitation, she plucked a leaf and took a bite. “Not that I need it with you around.” she stepped forward in a sudden, brisk movement to reach her heand onto the small of Miret's back. “Tell me all about your grand exploits, great conqueror.” she leaned in, nose meeting with Zaz's hair falling onto Miret's shoulder. “Show this Yanii who's on truly on top.”

“Getting some head already?” Miret teased. “You know there's a way to prepare it, you degenerate.” She leaned in for another kiss, took Zarina's hand, and closed the door with a thought and a bit of magic. Locks clicked. Lights dimmed.

***


It was dark out, although not yet the hours of Ipte. There were no melon themed celebrations, leaving the streets eerily quiet for a trials night. A quietude born of a quickly stifled tragedy, but a tragedy nonetheless. It was nice, Zarina found, if she didn't think too much about it.

“Hey,” she cooed behind her partner's pointed ear whilst embracing her from behind. “did you actually ... Kill that queen?” the big spoon tightened her hold a little more. “Did you have to do a lot of that?”

Miret had wanted to lie there and fade into the embrace of sleep, but there was an unwelcome whisper in her ear from a welcome voice. Her hazy mind settled on pretending to be asleep. She shifted slightly, as one does when disturbed from slumber, and let out a soft moan. “Mmm.”

Zarina swallowed when she fell for the ploy. “Sorry.” she uttered in the mousiest of voices. “Good, hmm,” she paused for a moment to recite a word that wasn't all that intuitive for her to pronounce. “saluuv.”

Miret's heart hammered a little faster and a twinge of guilt prickled inside of her, ready to join its many peers. She made a tired sound and squeezed Zarina's hand with a tired tightness. “Y'too,” she murmured, before drifting off. Only, she didn't sleep for a good long time.







Ever since the Student Faire, Zarina had a certain glow about her. She had already been less of a recluse and now she was the radiant light of the room. It was undoubtedly that Yasoi girl that had made it a habit to come over that was behind some of it. While opinions may vary on the nature of her second wind, one couldn’t question the Virangish's drive for productivity and even the over-the-top games of the Trials. Zarina was back with a more approachable air to her, essentially.

The Dragon was the next trial, and with it came an unusual announcement in regards to the leg taking place in Citivalunga. Or rather, a warning to maintain good behaviour and consideration.

“So it’s actually happening, eh?”

Marceline had made a habit of meeting with Zarina every morning so that they could discuss business and, while the coming of The Trials had forced some adjustments to their schedules, it was not going to get in the way of this initiative.

They stood beside each other in the crowd, both slightly separate from their teams, Marceline updating her older partner on the operation of their locations and Zarina filling her in on supply chain matters. There was a good deal of friendly and, at times, teasing banter regarding the earlier Melon Derby and, presently, High Zeno Bastaner was discussing the next event on the docket: The Dragon.

Marci's eyebrows went up. "Yeah. Wow. They're actually acknowledging it." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't like it one bit." She twisted to look over and up at Zarina. "Means it's close: dangerously close."

Zarina peered to her younger business partner. “Scared?” she smiled with an air of confidence to her. “I kind of am too, really.” she deflated, her hand rising up to brush some hair that had already been neatly tucked behind her ear to undo it so she could put it back in place. A typical nervous habit of her's. “No more coffee lines. The fuck do we do after that?”

Marceline furrowed her brow. "That is the big looming worry. Thing is... if we've noticed, others have." The Zeno was moving on to the conclusion of his speech and she'd have to go within moments. "How much do you think the prices have risen already?"

“Too much.” answered Zarina, arms crossed as numbers were crunched in his simple little head. “Do we just unga-bunga Eskandish-style it?” she regarded Marci, uncertain.

Marceline nibbled her bottom lip. "Yeah," she agreed. "I think we do. We just... need to raise the capital somehow because, if we do this, we do it all the way." Her eyes flicked Zarina's way again, in seriousness. "We'll need an obscene amount to ride out a bloody war."

Zarina shrugged. “We do what upstarts always do.” she began, a tad cryptic before shooting a grin at her close friend. “Borrow it from whales and have a backup plan for running away with it if shit gets that bad.”

"And I'm the devious one," Marci joked in response. She shook her head good-naturedly as the High Zeno bid them to join their teams and prepare for the opening of the portals. "Looks like we'll have to discuss it later," she replied in earnest. "But you're right, and we'll need to get a move on it soon, too." She'd already taken a few steps back, but then she paused and darted forward, enfolding Zarina in a quick embrace. "You look happy, suunei." She smiled and blushed a touch. "Stay well and good luck!" Then, they were separated and she was backing away into the crowd and her focus turned, in its entirety, to the race ahead.

Zarina flashed a smirk and winked at Marceline, before departing with a thumbs up out of her extended arm.







You got this Zaz.

Zarina was in full leotard, hair tied into a net and goggles tightly bound to her head. One would barely be able to recognize her.

It’s just a race, they’ll revive you if shit goes wrong.

Although it wasn’t the girl that stood out but the gargantuan creature she was riding. Bigger than anything else and visibly grumpy from having a minuscule creature ride it. The Blue Water Behemoth was her choice and apparently she was the only one crazy enough to take it.

I’m gonna taste death for the first time, aren’t?

A low, reverberating growl was emitted from the creature. Almost as if it could smell her fear.

Just do like you did i-

A whistle indicated the relay for Raffscallions. She was first! Zarina, instead of panicking, spurred the beast into action, surprising it instead. Her partner followed behind, slow and steady.

♫


Drugs, that was what her wildblood colleague had found. A boost for threshers, one she mindlessly fed her steed right before Abdel’s long-range disruption.

Chaos ensued.

Few were spared from the Behemoth’s wrath. Zarina did her very best to hold it back, and to a degree she did with control over where the rage was channelled. A select group was pursued, and the ruins were made even more ruined. Ultimately, though, the Behemoth became unconquerable. Nothing could stop its aquatic stride and damned be those that tried.

Deep in the centre of the sunken city, Zarina dug unperturbed while Axolotl secured their win conditions with the stalwart crackclaw. And there she found it -

The Calesardes Mechanism.

That’s what it would be called if Zarina actually knew what it was. In her eyes, it was a peculiar, oddly unscathed triangular pyramid apparatus with wheels and gears as well as an 'eye' on one sidethat could be of value. Although the faintest hint of temporal stain was perhaps what attracted her to it in the first place.

The rest was merely an ascension with a still agitated Behemoth, but one tuckered out enough to not resist Zarina gentle guidance. Once emerged as an unexpected first, likely due to the chaos she and Abdel had generated, she secured her victory and set her sights on Oweyn soon after his arrival.

Still on her beast, she merely looked down at him.

He looked back.

“You got a box for me?”

”Nope.”

And then he walked off, unimpressed. Zarina didn’t dare hop off her crack-Behemoth just yet.

“Well screw you too.” the beast stirred. “Not you, Ruben.” the tapped Ruben’s carapace, doing little to change its demeanour.
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