willdereol

OOC note: Tentatively, I've come back to Twilight RO.
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<Rika> The house stood on stumps, the entire construction- moss covered to the point of blending in with the surrounding bushes and strands of weeds. The entire little compound had a feeling of desolation to it, with barely smoking chimney and one of the windows replaced entirely by a planks of wood. From the rickety stairs, a faint trail lead to a patch of carefully tended vegetables, <c>
<Rika> however, and yet another branched out towards a stone column that sheltered the well. Under the house, two dogs, large enough to be wolves (and most likely having at least a little beast-blood in them) were curled up, away from the heat and humidity of the incoming day. In this deep forest, the cicadas were going already, their deafening song-rolling over the girl like a wave. Not <c>
<Rika> quite as pleasant were the waves of sweat, rolling down her face as she tended to the patch of worked soil. She hasn't grown much in these past months, but did drop some pounds, with worried wrinkle on the forehead and almost unconscious nervous glances over her shoulder, replacing the once serene bearing of Safina's acolyte. With the nearest village being half a day's walk away, she did<c>
<Rika> not have to worry about getting attached or even seeing people more than once a month.. yet still, she worried. And feared.  <e>
<Jeremiah> As she had the right to. the acolyte would hear something over the cicadas din, reverberating, echoing through the woods. huffing breaths, and hoofbeats, a rider moving fast, landing heavy, brush and tree knocked aside in its wake.
<Rika> She lifted her head, then, and straightened out. Even the bugs of the trees seemed to quiet down, for what came, came without mercy. A shrill, reverberating whistle silenced the few that were still shrilling-- and called out the pair from beneath the house, dogs as big as wolves, dogs that were wolves, which trotted lazily to the side of their owner and sat, tongues-lolling, ears-perked.
<Rika> *Straightened up.))
<Jeremiah> the noise grew to a crescendo as the beast and rider lumbered closer and closer, the trees themselves shaking. Caliban, the great black war-pig, black, liquid marbles eyes shineing in what light was avaliable. his breath was as steam, his footsteps as thunderclaps. burst forth from the bursh and rearing before Rika and company!
<Rika> The tan-colored canines' growl was nowhere near the volume of the pig's epic entrance (:P), yet they stood, alert and ready, beginning to circle the creature even as the girl stood before it still. Her hands were wrapped around the spade, and she knew how to use it.
<Jeremiah> "Boo." the voice was a whisper, from behind rika. Caliban had done his job, make a fuss, distract the dogs. An arm shot out from behind her, aiming to wrap around her neck, subdue her. Meanwhile Caliban snorted, rearing and coming back to the ground in a boom, hopefully scaring and distracting the wolves.
<Rika> The wolves were sufficiently distracted with the show, jumping back in forth and trying to get at an angle to get a shot at hamstringing the boar. Rika, in turn, swung around at the noise behind her, nerves-wound tight as a spring, stepping back and bringing the spade down on whatever occupied the spot.
<Jeremiah> The shovel came down on air, Jeremiah, apparent to the world, sidesteping, and countering with a spinning kicking, aimed for Rika's knees. Caliban, however, squealed, charging foreward, aiming to bowl through one of the wolves, leading them on a merry chase that they could not win.
<Rika> The wolfling sprang aside, fleet as thistledown, while the other came at Caliban's back, nipping at the heels. The kick proved effective enough, for despite the assault with garden weapon, Rika was no fighter. She crumbled, managing to get another swing (or wild flail) in, on her way down.
<Jeremiah> Jeremiah Caught the shovel under his arm, letting out a single grunt of pain he wrapper his left arm around the makeshift club, trapping it in place, there was a ring of metal as a black knife was drawn, hoked ended and serrated, the blade lashed down at the now prone cleric, aiming for pain and not lethality. the blade would cause unimaginable pain, if the blade landed. Caliban Kicked...
<Jeremiah> ...backwards as the wolf approached, bucking like a horse, and bolting once again, hopefully appealing to their nature hunting insticts, and provoking them to chase.
<Rika> The hoof caught the canine in the jaw, a glancing blow, making it scurry backwards and whimper, only to be reassured by a wordless lick of the rounded-about second. A second later, they were but two light streaks, disappearing into the forest. Their disappearance was echoed by a cry of sheer agony, as the owner of the spade let go of it, sprawling face-down on the ground... and twitching <c>
<Rika> a bit, for good measure.
<Jeremiah> "Hello Rika." jeremiah twisted the knife, pulling it out, shredding flesh in the process. he stood tall over, his face coating in shimmering, living silver. a smile grew, wicked and fanged. the lips moved with Jeremiahs words. "I trust you've been well, my dear.
<Jeremiah> "*
<Rika> "You've changed." There was fear, written all over her face as Rika stared up at him from her prone position, bringing a hand over the ugly tear on the arm. She has seen worse, when the loggers brought her their accidents. She was not going to tell him that she's seen worse.
<Jeremiah> "I'd like to think we all do, from time to time." he wiped blood from his blade, inspecting it, and reigned a single kick down at rika. his face shifted again, skin shriveling, his face first becoming gaunt, and sunken, and then, the skin... dissapeared, leaving nothing but a skull.
<Rika> The transformation was lost on the cleric, who was quite occupied with getting out of the way of the kick.
<Jeremiah> A high pitched laugh reverberated through the woods as jeremiah stalked and followed the injured, prone woman. "How's life Rika? Think of me often?"
<Rika> "All the time.." She hissed through tightly clenched teeth, rolling to the very edge of the garden bed before shakily coming to her feet. The crimson stain spread up a short-sleeved shirt, running down the now-useless hand in thin red ribbons.
<Jeremiah> "I told you i would find you Rika." the Man advanced in sloow step, skeltal silver face staring at her with eyeless black sockets. slowly, a tiny, silver flicker of movement sppeared in he left eye socket.
<Rika> The smell of crushed herbs, fear and sweat hung thick about the place-- fear that was only amplified by the sight of his face, no longer human in a way that would make it bearable to the eye. Step by step, she was backing up towards the stairs, where a dagger was secreted behind one of the thick wooden beams supporting the house on its stumpy foundations. "Yet you're still unable to <c>
<Rika> hurt anyone I love." She told him, horrified grimace-turning to a semblance of a smile.
<Jeremiah> more manic laughter from the masked madman. launching himself forward, straight leg kick aimed from the womans sternum. "but i can hurt -you- my dear."
<Rika> "But I only...!" The breath was knocked out of her as the kick connected, sending the small body flying conveniently against the stairs. Something crunched on an impact, an ankle-bone twisted wrong, maybe. Maybe not. Barely catching her breath, she reached under the steps, getting the weapon on the first try. Like she's done this before..
<Jeremiah> The madman followed his attack with a leap, springing over, vaulting, a aerial kick aimed for the poor womans face as she lay prone across the stairs.
<Rika> The kick went directly over her head, splintering the frail wood, for the girl was already leaning forward, knife-clutched with both hands as its blade was directed inward. Piercing nigh-ephemeral cloth, then flesh, sliding between the ribs. "..live once." She mouthed, face-contorting at the pain.
<Jeremiah> the madman righted himself pulling his leg free. reaching down to grab for the dagger in her chest, and twist, twist and twist. "Do you want to die, Little rika?"
<Rika> "..Its mine to take." The blade twisted, going deeper, shearing through flesh, embedding itself into a lung. The girl breathed heavily, now, each puff of breath- coming with outcropping of pink foam at the edges of barely parted lips. With the last of her strength, she rocked forwards, pushing herself further onto it. Dark, shorty-cropped hair spilled over Jeremiah's arm, followed shortly <c>
<Rika> by the weight of the body.
<Jeremiah> ((you want her to die?))
<Rika> ((*Shrug* Whichever.))
<Jeremiah> "do you think that this gesture will bring you peace?" the man flipped her over in his arms, force the mouth open, a snakes tongue dropping from his mouth, and wrapping around a bottle, and bringing it to the womans lips. the liquid flowed slowly but surely into her mouth. "Your death will be by my hand."
<Rika> She coughed, spitting flecks of blood and potion all over his face, hands-grabbing ineffectively at the hilt portruding out of her chest. In the background, the soft rustle of the stems announced the return of the pups from their failure of a hunt.
<Jeremiah> He held her fast, forcing her down, and the bottle neck into the mouth, giving her no option but to swallow the viscous liquid. slowly. he glanced over his shoulder, towards the door, snake tounge sharpening and flicking. awaiting the fight to come.
<Rika> ((I seriously don't get how this is ICful for him. o_O;))
<Jeremiah> ((he want rika to live in fear, as opposed to the peace of death.))
<Rika> The choking sounds were about as pleasant to his ears as the low-pitched growl of a pair of 'pets' that smelled both blood and acute sense of wrongness associating itself with the recent arrival. The girl swallowed, convulsively, flopping around a bit before seeming to pass out.
<Jeremiah> The madman unstopped another vial, bringing it to her lips and slowly, over time, pulling the dagger out of her chest, trying not to induce trauma. he kept and eye out over his shoulder, looking for the wolves.
Rika> The concept of what was considered right and wrong timing was quite foreign to these animals, which now lunged, as one, as flashes of summer lightning, towards the seemingly unprotected back of the intruder. The white liquid trickled down an unresisting throat, most going into the stomach, but some- into passages best reserved for air. A weak little cough sounded, half-hearted attempt to remedy.
<Jeremiah> The creature reached his target, its fangs sinking deep into jeremiahs shoulder. immediate his arm reached up, wrapping around the beasts neck, and the snake tounge, paper thin and sharper than any razor, flashed upwards, striking, aiming to open the beasts throat, killing it painlessly.
<Rika> One beast was dispatched readily enough, dying upon spurt after spurt of arterial fluid. Yet the second one was but a moment behind, rushing despite a primordial sense that told it of its bothers' death, and going for the throat.
<Jeremiah> Jeremiah shifted, Using the fallen creature as a shield, drawing a straight blade and slashing at the beast, aiming to open its belly.
<Rika> The furry proved to be a bit too wily for that simple move, seeming to bounce off the corpse at the flash of a dagger, and retreating. Circling the man, and waiting for an opening. On the stairs, the no longer dying cleric groaned, beginning to come to. This begged the question of what prevented her from doing the same thing again on a short notice.
<Jeremiah> A low ominous growl issue forth from the bleeding madman, his face shifted again, from skeletal to...bestial. wolven features, a long snouth razor teeth.silver shifting from the back of the mans head, allowing dark brown hair to fall free. slowly a hand fell to his belt, grasping a canister.
<Rika> The guarddog actually shied away, clearly disturbed by this abborition of nature. Its tail was held straight, now, curling slightly downwards, as it looked at the two fallen bodies surrounding the newcomer.
<Jeremiah> quickly, like a snake, the canister flew from his belt, spinning through the air as black smoke billowed forth, filling the room, and hiding the madman.
<Rika> The wolf (whom Rika's taken to calling Dapple, the fact almost completely irrelevant to the telling of this story) took several uncertain steps back. The player behind the wolf, in turn, was confused as hell about the room remark, considering that the pair has never ascended the staircase, and was still technically outside.
<Jeremiah> ((filling the air then, it'll disperse in 2 rounds)
<Rika> ((Kaykay))
<Jeremiah> Silence, from behind the smoke.
<Rika> Silence, from the animal, which circled the area of darkness wearily.
<Rika> *warily.
<Jeremiah> clink clink clink...
<Rika> Dapple snuffed at the air, cautiously drawing closer to where the smoke barrier was faintest, over the so-familiar furry outline that for some reason was not moving..
<Jeremiah> BOOM! an explosion rocked the world beside the poor animal, fire and shrapnel racing outwards in all directions.
<Rika> A splinter of wood was the last thing that Dapple got to see in this world. It was a sad end for an otherwise magnificent animal who guarded the humble hut from many a lustful ranger.
<Jeremiah> the air reeked of blood and fire as the man stepped out from the woods, a good distnce from the blast, a hand over his wounded shoulder. he made his way to where rika had been before they were so rudely interupted.
<Rika> ((Wasn't the explosion right by the stairs...?))
<Jeremiah> i thought the dog backed away and circled.))
<Rika> ((Suppose it could've been a fair distance, 'kay..))
<Rika> The two other bodies lay side by side, animal's hind quarters- draped across the torso of the human. Rika was mumbling something and attempting to cover her ears, looking none too coherent or really -in- this world. Jeremiah's approach was dutifully ignored.
<Rika> (('ve got to go to sleep, hon. Wrap-up? XD))
<Jeremiah> He loomed over her once again. "You cannot protect yourself Rika. Even from hell i'll find you, even in heaven I will torment you." he righted himself, neck cracking. "It's been nice talking my dear." and the hammer fell, a blow from above racing towards the clerics face, aiming to once again force her into unconscious.
<Rika> The dark descended. In a few hours, she would come to her senses enough to crawl inside the house, and in a day, she might even try walking. All of it-accompanied by the faint buzzing of the flies on the remnants of his visit. It was then that Rika Underhands truly understood that noone could remain at her side when she faced evil of this capacity-not even beasts of the woods. It was shortly after, that she made small modifications to the contents of her summer garden.

me:  Chezri:  "Hey Dove. Which way?" Raven asked, as they reached a four-way crossroad. Dove wordlessly continued on straight through the intersection, frowning a little as slender ivory brows knit. Raven followed his brother with his eyes before glancing back at Will. "I don't like the look on his face."
Sent at 6:56 PM on Tuesday

As of yesterday, I've switched RO servers, with the new one being a lot more gameplay-intensive, and most of its roleplay- IG-based.
Will try to keep some logs up on yurrechire.livejournal.com, but no promises. Pasting from txt documents -is- a pain in the bum, after all.


-Molot

[13:47] <Spot> It started as an argument in a shady corner of a shady bar, and escalated into a much louder argument behind the same bar, two blocks west of the city hall, in a large town with an even larger reputation. The first voice was most definitely male, and most definitely annoyed to bloody-hell. "..To serve without question or hesitation, no matter how many -generations- one is passed down! And no, we do NOT think that it is inhumane; <c>
[13:47] <Spot> humanity tends to be -scarce- in certain places.!"
[13:55] <Lothendren> "Ha! Fool... Imagine, -you-, pretending to understand such a matter! Psh. Here.. let's put some floppy ears on you and give you an apron and have you shine the floors all day and see how you like -that-... Never mind how useless you'd be!" *As he spoke, the lofn shimmied up onto the top of bar stool and moved to reach around back of the knight, attempting to tug upon his ears -
[13:56] * Hikki has joined #stuff
[13:56] <Lothendren> * - in demonstration of his suggestion as he spoke about said ears. He gestured widely with his arms in exaggeration.* ~
[13:57] <Lilit> From the darkness of one of the many shadows located in Prontera, a cloaked woman rose in utter silence. Her mismatched eyes had a rather blank look in them, bloodied bandages covering everything from the bridge of her nose down to her neck. The woman stood where she had risen, gently swaying from side to side, eyes darting around in their sockets. Without <c
[13:59] <Lilit> making a sound, the shadowy figure made her way out of the darkness and into the allyway in which she had warped into. Little mind was paid to the amount of people she bumped into, wincing with each careless action. Sooner or later, the woman found herself at the very bar where the other two were located. The door, while closed, was no obstacle for someone <c
[14:00] <Lilit> such as herself. Slipping in and out of the shadows, the woman looked around the bar with those blank, empty eyes. She just wanted something to eat and bars were usually full of people who meant little to the world. <e>
[14:00] * Hikki is now known as Tresiques
[14:05] <Tresiques> *~'This woman had a small date at the local City Hall and had just walked off from the building, brushing off the front of her obnoxious tan dress. It was almost a wedding dress, but not quite -that- formal for this tall elf considering where she came from and the lifestyle she lived as a Magistrate. She had asked a local where she could go for a quick drink and was pointed into the >
[14:06] <Tresiques> direction of two blocks over to a bar. This bar was quite the loud one considering she heard it from a block away, standing in front of the door, pondering if she should seriously walk inside or just go back to the Inn. Her long fingers rested on her cheeks as thought.'~*
[14:07] <Spot> "Keep your filthy fingernails -off- our manbits!" Apparently, ears qualified as manbits. But then, again, so did the rest of the crusader. What else was new? (In the opposite corner of the bar, a serving wench squeaked, and toppled over unto the lap of a dead-drunk (really, the guy was quite cold at this stage) in a dead swoon.) "Your masters are obviously intended for bigger and greater things, which leaves -bugs-, such as yourself, merely skittering in the background..!~" Lofn's fingers were knocked away from their targets with a brief (if wild) flailing of hands.
[14:07] <Spot>  skittering in the background..!~" Lofn's fingers were knocked away from their targets with a brief (if wild) flailing of hands.
[14:11] <Lothendren> "Ooooh~ Temper, temper! *sneering maliciously* What, did I hurt your poor fwagile little earses?" *With another irritating snicker, he hopped from the stool in a dodge to avoid the wild flailing, landing with a somersault. He popped up with renewed leering grin, bubbly and energetic as a school girl.* "Why - my good man... You're brilliant! Why, I'm flabbergasted! -
[14:13] <Lilit> So many people to choose from. It was as if Lilit was standing before a large buffet of food, unsure of which delicacy to pick. Granted, feeding on someone in such a public place probably wasn't the best idea. She'd have to wait for the right time to feast. So, the cloaked woman plopped down at the bar, head tilting to the right. She <c>
[14:14] <Lilit> cleared her throat and leaned closer so the bartender could hear her lowered voice. "This one wants mead. Does the smelly man sell mead?" The bartender would nod once and skitter off to get the woman her drink. <e.
[14:14] <Lothendren> "Abso-bloody-lutely -amazing-... why, if you haven't said an -intelligent- thing for once! Yes, yes quite - my 'master' is, in fact, truly intended for great things indeed! In fact, to be sure, they've already well surpassed any such -you- might possibly have met. Even so, as it so -happens-, my mission is crucial to the cause... I assure you in all earnesty, I am -most- indespensible!"
[14:15] <Lothendren> "Nooot... that I should expect a simple fellow such as yourself to comprehend such complex matters." *He took a bow from a few steps away, sweeping one hand out to the side.* ~
[14:16] <Tresiques> *~'Tresiques gently pushed the door open and slipped in so it would close quietly behind her. She really didn't want to make scene when she came into a place at all, she just wanted to blend in with mostly everyone else if she could. Damn hell this woman wasn't able to do that with her crazy dresses and large matching bow in her hair. Quiet was she? No, her heeled boots clicked along the >
[14:16] * Ebb has joined #stuff
[14:17] * Ebb is now known as Kirsten
[14:17] * Kirsten is now known as Ankiseth
[14:17] <Tresiques> wooden floor as she plopped down in a chair. If anyoen had laid eyes on this rich woman, like hell they would all declare that she needed to eat more. Tresiques was a twiggy girl, bones popping out everywhere.'~*
[14:20] <Spot> "Your 'master' is a chit of a velare, who needs to stick he..is nose out of his house for a change, and -follow up on his obligations!" He glowered, bed-hair sticking in ever-which direction, giving the human an appearance of a very upset feline. "As for -our- goals and project, they were, are, and continue to be quite confidential... not that we expect the likes of your inflated little soul to fully -grasp- their quasidivine <c>
[14:23] <Spot> implicatio...Hello, shadow-taker!" The expression went from murderous to cautiously delighted, as Lilit made her way towards the bar. And the barkeep? Well.. he nodded to the woman's request, and turned to cast a long, mournful look at the row of bottles behind him. The bees have been disappearing, but he didn't think that the patron would appreciate hearing anything about -that- difficulty.
[14:24] <Ankiseth> Ankiseth didn't seem to interested in this whole banter...  As he entered the bar, he just went to find himself a seat and sit down.
[14:26] <Lilit> Without turning her head, her eyes flicked over to look at Spot, head still tilted to the side. She simply sat there, observing the man before turning to face him. It looked as if the woman hadn't slept in a week, large, black bags lingering under her bloodshot eyes. "This one offers greetings
[14:26] <Lilit> to the male."<e>
[14:32] * Lothendren put on the world's most innocent expression - the very face of an angel - and turned those deep purple eyes of his up at the crusader in mock awe, with disbelief that would be evident to most, "Oooh - truly, you know my 'master'!? Why - then you know just of what I speak; never was there a more respected denized of the Realms! Tsk - you really shouldn't imply such foolish things - <c>
[14:34] <Lothendren> - perhaps you know nothing, after all!" *After this, his lips curled upward in very lopsided, sharp-toothed smile, "But what's this you say... you're interested in talking of your goals? Why - but of course, young one... I am always willing to give advice to those of lesser talents... after all, twas not -I- who brought up mention of such matters.~" *Tilting his head slightly, there <c>
[14:35] <Lothendren> *- did seem to be a hint of curiosity present in his eyes, and uncertainty perhaps, despite his speech.* <e>
[14:36] <Lothendren> ((*denizen
[14:36] <Tresiques> *~'She shook her head at the commotion still going on, her eyes looking right over towards the man who entered behind her and sat down not too far from her own comfy spot. Her hands fiddling with whatever was on this table which just so happened to be an epic napkin, her hands crumbled that up and tossed it at the other man.'~*
[14:38] <Spot> "And that one wonders if this one needs a long, long rest in a brightly lit location with one of those small coconut-type drinks. And the little umbrella. ... Mmmm... that little, little umbrella." The wistful tone, switching to the royally pissed off one, within matter of seconds. Either someone was bipolar, or had one Comodo Sunrise too many. "Never a more respected one, eh!? So perhaps you'll tell me whose will and way -they- are <c>
[14:38] <Ankiseth> Seth turned to listen to the ongoing debate...  A rather disgusted look on his face as he watched the two argue...  And then, whap!  A napkin hit him in the side of the head...  He turned and looked about the room, wondering who threw it...
[14:43] <Spot> following right now, hmm?" The 'lesser talent' comment obviously struck a sore spot, and the spot did bristle, and shift back and forth on his stool, as though just asking for an -additional- excuse to get his hands on the damn imp. "And if lesser talents are what you consider -these-, then what, dare we ask, are the -grander- talents of yourself? Besides scrubbing behind the benches in the den, <c>
[14:43] <Spot> washing crap out of the gutters, and watering petunias?" In the background, the barkeep rested a half-full mug before Lilit with a few words along the lines of the stuff, being dear these days.
[14:46] <Lilit> Digging into one of the many hidden pockets lining the inside of her cloak, Lilit flicked a few coins at the bartender. She then snagged a straw from the bartender when he wasn't looking, plopping it into the drink. Snickering to herself, Lilit sipped at the mead through the straw, still looking at Spot. "What is the male talking about with the small one?" <e
[14:54] * Lothendren lifted his chin and straightened with a haughty dignity cultured over years and years of experience, "I will -have- you know, you overlarge buffoon, that gardening is a cultured practice which involves a great deal of skill! Only the most unobservant would suppose that lovely petunias could be germinated with mere watering - and I should very much like to see -you- do a proper job of - <c>
[14:59] <Lothendren> cleaning the gutters! Why...pshah! It takes a dexteritous hand indeed *Here he caught up an empty glass near Tresiques' table and moved it behind his back for a moment, only to sweep it back out a moment later with a pretty wildflower cradled in it via slight of hand,*  - to promote polish where high-class furniture is involved..." <c>
[15:00] <Tresiques> *~'Tresiques smiled to herself as she tried to look away from the action she just did. Her elbow coming to rest on the table as she leant her cheek onto her hand, trying to be inconspicuous. Her foot tapped on the floor waiting for a wench of some sort come and take an order that she wanted. Her eyes watching the man who spoke about gardening and a dexteritous hand, her blonde brow raised > '~*
[15:00] * Lothendren bowed to the elven lady and then concluded with his focus of Spot by placing a hand on his hip to stand there shaking his head for a moment at the shamefulness of such evident ignorance. He lifted a finger to waggle at his enfuriated opponent,* "Tsk, tsk!" <e>
[15:01] <Tresiques> oh so high at this.'~*
[15:01] * Lothendren offered the glass to her before setting it near her upon the table.~
[15:02] <Lothendren> ((For clarification sake, sorry xD))
[15:05] <Spot> Blink. Blink. Stare. "What about? Gardening, apparently. You -do- realize that sustaining a bloody -petunia- in Hel takes as much water as a small child?" The fellow seemed to go down a notch-- from utter anger, to sour sullenness. Mayhaps it was time for another drink. Grumble.
[15:07] <Lilit> Lilit kept her head tilted to the side as she downed her mead. The woman showed no indication that she even tasted it as it went down, simply enjoying the weak burning sensation it created as it traveled down her throat. Once the booze was gone, Lilit slid off her stool, looking at Spot. "This one needs to talk with the male alone soon. This one has to go. <c
[15:07] <Lilit> This one says goodbye." And, with that, Lilit backed up into the nearest shadow and simply vanished. <e>
[15:08] <Ankiseth> Goddamn, was that purple-eyed buffoon as queer as he sounded?  Man, Seth thought to himself, I best watch my ass in this bar.  Literally.  This manifested as further disgust on his face as he looked around the room, he saw a woman in a dress... and the folded napkin on her table was mysteriously missing...  Suspect found.  He left the school-house debate and went to ask the woman about it.
[15:08] * Lilit is now known as Saku|Out
[15:08] <Ankiseth> "You threw this?"  He went to drop the napkin uncerimoniusly on the table.
[15:15] <Spot> "Bye. Don't trip on any petunias on the way out." And so, the spot stared down at its (surprisingly nonexistent) mug of ale. It was nonexistent because, apparently, alcohol was a sin, but so were debates on the slavery of the race of lofn, primarily because the Church wasn't aware of its particulars, and, thusly, assumed that -all- slavery was bad. Oh well. "We'll talk later, 'm sure." That, in the general direction of the imp in <c>
[15:16] <Tresiques> "Oh no.. Why would I do something like that?" *~'She looked purely shocked and upset that the had even bothered to make her a suspect to throwing a napkin across the room like some child!'~* "Why would you even think that I threw this napkin?"
[15:17] <Spot> question, prior to departure. Out the stairs, down the alley, up this street and to the right on that one.. up another set of stairs, and into the room of hawt smu.. I mean, what?
[15:18] * Spot is now known as MolotTheHikkiStalking
[15:18] * Lothendren tilted his head questioningly at Spot's previously response, then sneered derisively, unconsciously mouthing 'Fool.' He began a low, dangerous sort of laugh that ended as a wicked chuckle, "Oh, but of cooourse. I've -most- enjoyed our 'conversation'... if it may be called such. Ha! Do have a nightmarish day, now!" *This was said with a most pleasant smile, in fact. <c>
[15:19] <Lothendren> *His tail a-twitch, the imp spun about and pranced towards the door, grinning wickedly at something no one could likely derive.* ~ <e>
[15:20] <Ankiseth> "Easy, Napkin hit me, you're missing one.  It's sort of easy to tell if you look."  He tapped his foot impatiently as the other two left the building.
[15:21] <Tresiques> "... Okay well you caught me. Everyone else was busy doing their own thing and I wanted to talk to someone at least. Of course, I got no service at all so far and no bar wench as come over here. Ugh. I would at least like to be offered a drink!"
[15:21] * Lothendren is now known as Guen|Lunch

<Margaret> In the early hours of the morn, shortly before the last hooting of ferocious mountain owls, and right before the first equally ferocious rays of the sun, sensitive ears of the infirmary watchman might pick up a sound. It was a sound coming from the least populated area of the makeshift hospital, where sheets fluttered like ghosts along the narrow, drafty corridors between the keeping-cells. It was the sound of <c>
<Margaret> someone attempting to walk without support, and stumbling all over the place.
* Rilien slipped by the door like a fleeting breeze a few moments before she stumbled that direction... but quickly did an about-face on his early morning patrol of the hospital. Noises were typically not a positive indication in places with badly injured people; especially when they sounded like that.* ~
<Margaret> This was like a scene out of a nightmare- to be brought into a place of light and (presumably) healing, only to sleep and wake in a space of fluttering drapes, twilight and silence. Still, she needed to be up. Needed to find Valorin and see what came of that mirror-jumper. Needed to be -of use-. And so the pally staggered out of her cell, and took a dazed look around..
* Rilien slowed down from a mild trot as he neared the woman, approaching her step by step and reaching out a hand. He simply looked at her, with a sad look in his eyes rather older than his fresh youth. It spoke of understanding and sorrowful sympathy, as if he could perhaps appreciate her plight. -
<Rilien> *Once he was almost next to her, he would stop; not forcing his help upon her, but almost quietly urging her to accept it, though without word or further gesture to that end.* ~
<Margaret> For a while, she looked back, bits of light-reflecting off of otherwise darkened pupils. She looked at the youth, who acted so offended at the state of a road-worn peco. Looked at the hand, so unassumingly offered. "It was just a pinprick." Her voice was a bit hoarse, as she leaned against an adjacent (and, thankfully, non-cloth-like) wall. "Just a small thing through the hand.."
<Margaret> All that, in Common.
* Rilien 's eyes only softened a touch more still. He looked slightly troubled, or a bit unsure of her words, but tried a momentary wane smile in answer. He glanced towards her wound with mild concern, but seemed appeased enough that it was no longer life-threatening. Then he merely stood near her, as if awaiting what she should decide.* ~
<Margaret> "Why'd they have to go through all the trouble.." Muttering, seemingly to herself, the cleric seemed to take no offense at the scout's presence, addressing him in a bit in that same Common. "Don't suppose you know where they put all of my -regular- clothing?"
* Rilien blinked a question at her initial muttering, slowly lowering his hand in apparent defeat though he looked quite eager to offer it again. At the more concise final inquiry, he cocked his head and seemed thoughtful a moment, then gestured back in the direction from which she'd come -
<Rilien> * - in the general vicinity of her sleeping cot. He'd pause a moment to consider, licking his lips gingerly - they appeared to be slightly dry and cracked - then continue with another suggestion via gesturing. Making fists with both hands slightly apart and facing each other, as if holding something, he'd then proceed to move them first up and down, then towards each other, then up and down -
<Rilien> * - passing each other again, with the knuckles brushing together, and mouthing a word that looked something like 'lean'.* ~
<Margaret> Raising both brows at him, she nevertheless made a show of (staggering) back to the cell. "Checked here already. .. Well, a stroll in the night air's never killed anyone, so if you care to help me look." There was a bit of a silence as the cleric looked back, attempting to make heads or tails of the gesturing. "..If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought that you were wanting to go a-boozin'. What's the matter, cat's got your tongue?"
* Rilien blinked... then blinked again. Then knit his brows together in utter perplexity at her jumble of words. He shook his head sorrowfully, hoping to convey that he'd understood very little of that. However, he followed her, and offered his arm once more, urging with a repeated move of his arm towards her; he seemed a bit more insistent this time, his face filled with worry.* ~
<Margaret> There was a pregnant pause, as the mildly confused cleric stared down the perplexed scout. A pause that lasted until, almost visibly, a certain switch was flicked on, and the (somewhat dusty) interior of the cleric's head was illuminated by Mother-granted light of COMMON SENSE. "That wouldn't be necessary." Said the woman in somewhat broken elvish, gesturing at the offered arm.
* Rilien frowned most agrievedly and looked just a touch hurt. He lowered it reluctantly though, then gave a deep bow not long after she spoke. He coughed, and seemed to be trying to clear his throat, before giving a raspy sigh. Finally, he licked his lips once more after this last ditch protest and spoke with what seemed to be notable difficulty, the words coming out as a hoarse rasp -
<Rilien> * - in the usually melodic and lilting elven tongue, passing instead from his lips in halting breaks. "You... should - rest... yet." *He looked at her sympathetically, then tilted his head and added - though his halting speech nearly disappeared in a whisper as his voice broke part-way through, "What... is... 'uhboo-zehn'?" *Which he concluded with a soft coughing fit.*
<Rilien> *The lady of light, incidentally, would likely have noted by this point that he was always seen wearing a bandana tied about his neck obcuring much of it including his adam's apple.* ~
<Rilien> *obscuring
<Margaret> "I'm fiiiiine," Dropping like a rock onto the edge of the bed, she motioned him closer. The worried frown indicated that, despite language barriers, at least one of the present thought something to be askew with the situation. "The night's young, and there is much to be done." The elven was passing-- not exactly something one would want to hear at a reception, but certainly comprehensible enough. "..You should go see a real <c>
<Margaret> healer about that cough, though." The last was uttered in a somewhat fretful tone, and accompanied by a vague fluttering of hands-- as if the pally was saying that if she could bloody concentrate and not fall down on ever-which-street, she could've probably done something about it herself.
* Rilien frowned more darkly as she concluded - a shadow of his initial nigh-hostility towards her - but he didn't hesitate to trail along only a short ways from her, hovering just within arm's reach. He eased up a bit, but still shook his head firmly, struggling to croak out. "Our healer-s... excel. *cough* This - is mere...ly a - reminder, I... am fortunate - that... I live." ~
<Margaret> "Not by -that- thing!?" T'was the night for frowning, and all through the ward, things that walk went about, their faces-adorned/ With frowns big and small, so appropriate, that, their presence went unquestioned.. for a long while yet. "Did they find someone to burn it off the face of the Rune? That shadow-thing?"
* Rilien shook his head vehemently... then shook his head yet more, shrugging faintly and uttering another raspy-sounding sigh. He swallowed, seemingly painfully before forcing out a scratchy, "Gone... for... - now?" ~
<Margaret> "Good.." Actually, it wasn't good. The code dictated that she go off and hunt that thing, until neither it nor any of it ancestors/descendants/roommate's goldfish were among the living. Yet times changed, and, sitting in this drafty hall of stone, Margaret had to admit to herself that -some- things, simple faith could not overcome. "No further losses on our side?"
* Rilien nodded - albeit ruefully - in the affirmative that she was correct. There was relief on his face at being able to answer so, quite clearly, but behind that his expression was weary. However absent the tell-tale redness and puffy eyes might be, the sorrow in his eyes said his heart was heavy with weeping for his people, as many indeed were lost that day.* ~
<Margaret> Sorrow transcended races-- laying an undamaged hand on the other's arm, the cleric gave it a reassuring squeeze. "May Mother carry their souls gently."  There seemed to be nothing else to say for the time being, so she simply sat, digesting a few hard-learned facts in the insomniac state, still slightly light-headed, and, in the absent-mindedness of the slightly upset, forgetting to remove the hand.
* Rilien looked down to her hand, still with that woeful aura carving out the landscape of his face. He stood in silence as well. No objection to her lingering touch was given; it was quite clear, to him at least, what her true intention was.* ~

<Margaret> <Morose> "In a tiny little cave...a dog is sleeping on his back~" :: The Nightmare continued its unnerving, maddening song as they moved, the woman's awkward off-handed slice narrowly missing. It was Valorin's blade that nicked it as it whipped back into the reflection from whence it came. :: "Iron chains around his leg...he's purring loud enough to snap~"
<Margaret> <Valorin> ((Augh, I gotta go sleep for work. Can we pick up tomorrow afternoon? D:))
<Margaret> <Margaret> "Got news." Snapped the cleric, slowly backing into a corner that seemed to have the least reflective surfaces of the four. She did note the corpse on the floor, but that one was obviously too far gone to be helped. "I -am- a fuckin' reflection.."
* Dove is now known as Morose
<Valorin> "The soil is dry out here. You can cut off that reflection easily." He glanced down at his shining sword and grimaced further, before drawing it lightly over his inner arm, smearing the glittering blade in blood to remove the chance that the reflection could be used against him. Spreading his feet slightly, he braced himself in the doorway, eyes watching the racks of armor and blades.
<Morose> :: From all around them they could hear that eerie voice, serenading the two he currently had his proverbial eye on. A few smiths emerged from the forge, weilding fire stoking picks and hammers, eyes falling on to the fallen and rather disgustingly mangled elf. One glanced up at Valorin upon arriving at the scene, his face contorted with fear and the need for direction. :: <c>
<Morose> "I see blood around his snout...smile bigger than his mouth..." :: Rasped the Nightmare from beyond. :: "...They come to hurt him every day...to STOMP him back into a crouch...~"
<Margaret> "That's a pretty good idea." Concurred the cleric through teeth, clenched quite tightly against the pain. Indeed, this was the best idea she's heard in the past 1.6 seconds, almost rivaling the "To hell with it, let's Grand-Cross the place" one that the lower-left corner of her brain's been sending out quite persistently. Moments later, a perfectly good rack of pole-axes rocked off its wooden legs to make room for a full suit of <c>
<Margaret> armor, whose owner apparently thought that a head-over-heels lunge in the direction of the doorway was a good idea, both in terms of a retreat method, and getting some of those mirrored surfaced buffed down with a healthy layer of dust.
* Zsuzsanna has joined #camp
<Valorin> Valorin twitched slightly at the sight of the other elves pouring into the room, before raising his sword and pointing behind them. "Get back into the forge! It strikes from reflections, the soot will keep you safe!" He barked the order, loud and clear, before he stepped forward and sneered disdainfully at a fallen shield on the ground before him. "Come now, singing and hiding? <c>
<Valorin> It surprises me that a castrati would have the stones to attack someone if all he will do is hide at the first scratch. I bleed more than you do!" He snorted, flicking a few drops of blood onto the form displayed on the shield.
<Zsuzsanna> ~Skip me for this time.~
<Morose> "Red shiny star..." :: The elves all nodded their compliance, turning to make their hasty retreat as instructed...but their lives were already forfeit. The onslaught of inky tentacles commenced without warning, piercing outward like jagged black spikes seeking to impale as many bodies at once as possible. The multitude of screams became a unified symphony to the Nightmare's serenade. :: <c>
<Morose> "Fall asleep and dream now, your heart is ready to DIE. Your jaws are open wide and--windows are made in your MIND~" :: Screeched the raspy voice as it sang more shill than before amidst the cries of pain and horror. ::
<Margaret> Coming to her feet in the general viscinity of the doorway, Margaret clenched the pierced wrist to her chest, mingling a half-whispered words of prayer with a snippy remark of "That is not difficult to do," in Valorin's general direction. Strangely, the additional words of prayer brought no characteristic grassy outburst of rays. Either way, the words faded altogether as the screams began-- healing was going to wait.
<Morose> (( shrill* XD Just noticed. ))
<Valorin> His lip curled in further contempt, fingers tightening almost audibly around the hilt of his blade. This thing wasn't the monster he'd thought it was. It wasn't a beast, or anything to be feared. Some of the tension faded from his body, before he gave a laugh, before he spoke under his voice. "An unruly child that does not like toys that can harm, hmm?" Turning to Margaret, he stepped back <c>
<Valorin> toward the exit. "No more of the forge workers will come out, not now. If we can distance ourselves from this room, we can quarantine it. Even if it can follow us, its ability to strike will be far lessened."
<Zsuzsanna> *~'Zsuzsanna quietly tilted her head to the side as she peered around the corner with deep eyes. The yells and screams of people drew her attention to the commotion going on right now, not sure who this person was torturing people. But, she knew that it wasn't her. This made Zsu quite the angry elf, growling at Val's direction.'~* "Toys that can harm hmm~?"
<Morose> "The time gets longer every day, but he sits there smiling in his cave...and all the spite you ever spate...betrays your monument to fate..." :: From the armory, smoke began to -pour- out from the assorted reflective surfaces, filling the air and sinking to cover the floor up to their waists as it continued its invasion. Harmless, and non-poisonous...just blacker than black. ::
<Margaret> Someone's teeth were losing a substantial amount of enamel.. per second. "Yes, sir. Would you like one of us.." Here, a nod of
greeting was made in the direction of a freshly arrived Zsuzsanna. "To check for an alternative exit to the forge and round up whomever remains?" The piercing continued to drip desptite applied pressure, forming a small, heart-shaped puddle at her feet.
<Valorin> His eyes flicked to her wrist, a frown spreading over his lips as he assessed her wound. "I will. Get yourself and Zsuzsanna to safety, and treat that wound. I shall follow closely behind, I promise." His eyes were clear of doubt, and he obviously meant every word befored he turned, holding his sword close to his side and bolting through the smoke toward the adjoining forge.
<Zsuzsanna> *~'She stumbled carefully over to Margaret, her eyes glancing over the wrist before following the steps of Valorin. Her voice traveled after him, scowling. "You're an idiot for going alone." Her attention came back to the wrist and pulled the scarf from around her neck, trying to quickly wrap Margaret's wound.'~*
<Morose> :: There was no salvaging those who had just been sent to the slaughter; the unawakened Warrior of the Gods entered the smokey confines of what could have been described as a definite death trap, but perhaps those present would trust their fearless leader to know what it was he was doing. The singing continued, raspy voice following Valorin. ::<c>
<Morose> "Shadows sweet in your bones...helps to know what you said...the hand on your skin...brings a war to your face..."
<Margaret> "It's fine!" Swatting the (already saturated) scarf away, she tucked the swordmace into a convenient belt-loop, before grabbing the elven crone by the shoulder with the unhurt hand and -shaking-. "Get Vick and Rowan, if you can find them.." The grasp was gone almost as soon as it's ascended, the woman-- already on the move into the hellpit of once-armory.
<Valorin> Even as she was on her way there, she would find the Elven prince bolting from the charnel house, shaking his head. "No survivors. We should go. Now." He continued to wade through the smoke, before pausing at the exit of the armory and turning about, to snarl and spit into the swirling black plumes. "Your voice sullies the word war. You are a murderer and nothing else."
<Zsuzsanna> *~'There could have been more to why Margaret let go so fast of this old crones shoulder, but she did as told and turned back to the way she came. Her heeled boots managing to click as she ran back to the barracks to find Rowan and Vick. Fuck. She shouldn't have left there and she knew it. The screams of terror and torture drew her out like a crazy addiction. Her eyes looked up and down >
<Zsuzsanna> the barracks, searching for the two.'~*
<Morose> :: Finally, the singing came to an end with Valorin's words, the voice simply erupting into a fit of slow but gradually rising, wicked laughter. Mad, simply mad. ::
<Margaret> Quite mad.. as well as untrackable, untraceable, and able to strike at any moment from almost any place. Gripping the weapon in her off-hand, she backed out of the inky space, shortly after Valorin himself. "..Don't suppose you've got anyone out here, that might sling a few elemental spells about?"
<Valorin> "Not on hand..they would live in the city proper, not the Temple." He slid back out of the door, gritting his teeth against the laughter before putting his considerable mass into sliding the heavy stone door shut and backing away from the now sealed building. "Zsuzsanna is warning our companions, we should set the temple on alert."
<Zsuzsanna> *~'Zsu ran up and down the barracks babbling quicky to anyone that would listen to her. Warning anyone that she could that there was something fucking creepy going on and that people in the forge were -dead-. Gone. Once she did locate Vick and Rowan, she still babbled in quick tongues trying to tell them to get the fuck out!'~*
<Morose> :: The echoing, maniacal laughter would emanate from the depths of the temple, even after everyone evacuated, standing outside. A small crowd had formed at a safe distance, just...watching. ::
<Margaret> "Well, what're we waiting for!?" Having seen the door shut (not that this would even slow down something to which modern physics had no applications), Margaret promptly set off, pushing through the surprisingly quiet crowd in the general direction of the city proper, and leaving lovely little drip-line. Complete fluency in elven wasn't exactly her cup of tea, but these folks seemed to understand sign-language well enough..!
[18:53] <Valorin> If fire would help...well, perhaps that would be useful. For now, Valorin turned and paced before the door, calmly listening to the creature cackle within. Turning to the crowd, he explained the situation as best he could, making note to tell everyone present to scuff, cover, or otherwise turn anything reflective on them into...well, something non reflective.
[18:55] <Zsuzsanna> *~'She did her best to change her language into one that Rowan and Vick would understand, explaining what was going on and why they needed to get their stuff packed and ready to get on the move. Leaving them to do this, she ran back outside towards the crowd, almost being run into by Margaret.'~*
[19:02] <Morose> (( Feel free to skip me for now. No change. X3 ))
[19:02] <Margaret> "Situation under control, at least one casualty too many, need to find someone with elemental acquaintanceship." Rattled off the pally, pushing past Zsuzsanna in the direction of one of the more promising avenues. This was going to take a while. The city, despite its considerable size, was mostly abandoned-- perhaps Valorin was right, and elves really did lack a certain flame.. at least as far as procreation was concerned.
[19:06] * Guennish has joined #camp
[19:07] <Valorin> He knew it may not help, but Valorin planted his sword into the ground and strode back to the door. Palm running through the still flowing trickle of blood through his forearm, his hand quickly went to work. First a circle, and then Caladoric runes of warding were painted in fresh blood over the door in deft, easy motions. Even if Calador had no sway over the creature within, <c>
[19:07] * Disconnected
[19:07] * Attempting to rejoin channel #camp
[19:07] * Rejoined channel #camp
[19:07] * Topic is 'Epic Elvish Battle-> Later today'
[19:07] * Set by Molot on Fri Apr 10 16:31:39
[19:08] * Guennish is now known as Rilien
[19:11] <Morose> :: As Valorin was pressed so closely by the temple door, he and he alone could hear the Nightmare's whispers as it called to him, a grin on its breath. :: "How many more will have to die, soldier...how many more...." :: Before the disturbing laughter resumed, ringing in the ears of those present. ::
[19:12] <Margaret> ((Val, can you repost second part of your post?))
[19:13] <Valorin> it would at least buy peace of mind for the small crowd gathered a good distance away.
[19:15] * Rilien slipped back towards the comotion from somewhere around the outskirts of town, silent as the shadows that held him. He paused a short distance away, eyes lighting on Valorin for any directives whilst he paused to assess the situation. He crouched slightly, bow at the ready as he begin to knock an arrow as sharp eyes searched for the best target.* ~
[19:19] <Margaret> Sigils. Particular ones, somewhat scribbled on the doorframes of folk with a way with the wind, or the flame. The fanatic could half-remember their general shape, a memory from that ill-fated stay in Geffen, and so onward she went, assuming (foolishly) that cultural customs stayed similar from region to region, and that all roads lead to Rome. Well.. this particular winding alley-way lead to a deserted part of town, and if <c>
[19:19] <Margaret> lightheadedness was anything to go by, blood loss from that arterial nick couldn't be ignored for much longer.
[19:23] <Valorin> He smiled softly, leaning his head against the cool stone door, blood stained palm pressing flat to the door alongside the warding sigils. "Coherence. Shocking. Listen well, though I doubt you will. How many more will have to die? Everything born will die one day. Even you." He leaned down then, rubbing his damp hand through the loose soil to absorb the slippery blood.
[19:24] <Zsuzsanna> "You act like I can use the elem... dammit." *~'She grumbled in elvish as she contined towards the crowd of people trying to see what they were doing and what was going on now. Coming to a halt next to Valorin, she raised a black brow to him as she heard his words, taunting the man behind the stone door.'~* "Truth in that."
[19:30] <Rilien> ((Don't wait on me))
[19:30] <Morose> "I rather like you, Heartstone." :: It mused, echoes of the crooked voice muffled by the heavy stone door. :: "Everyone dies...but I can help them along that road. Give them a little push~" :: Snickering deviously, he added. :: "Perhaps I'll have to help the rest of this -city- along. Since you believe in death so much."
[19:32] <Margaret> Was late afternoon sun always this hot? It certainly seemed so now, with the cobbles shimmering and dancing in the corners of the cleric's vision. Of warded doors, or other signs of mage habitation, there was not a wiff, so perhaps, she thought, it wouldn't hurt terribly to sit on those porch-steps, and rest. Just a little while.
[19:33] * Rilien frowned wordlessly and creapt closer, moving within a few lengths of the other two rather than right beside, and trusting Valorin to notice his presence when he was able. ~
[19:35] <Valorin> He turned to Zsuzsanna, scowling slightly. "Find Margaret. She is far too stubborn, and I doubt she has taken care of herself." And then his gaze moved back to the door. "You seem rather talkative now. And you seem to know me, too, beast. What is it that you want?"
[19:38] <Zsuzsanna> *~'With a nod she rolled her eyes and carried on with herself. Going back in the direction she just came and noticed this lovely path of blood which could have one come from one individual at this time. Follow that trail. It's what she did best and managed to stumble her way upon a narrow alley-way with in a few moments. There was the end of the trail, at Margaret.'~*
[19:41] <Morose> "Speaking of death. ...A light is about to go out." :: Morose's unseen grin spread wiiiiiiide. :: "...May your steps be swift. Her time is nigh."
[19:44] * Rilien took this brief opportunity of the lull in combat to check for any injured about, motioning in hand signs to inquire for important information about the situation of any other elves nearby. He kept his eyes mainly upon Valorin's position however, and the perceived threat presumably focused thereon as well.* ~
[19:45] <Margaret> Nope, those stones just -wouldn't stand still-. Leaning against the mercifully cool stone wall, Margaret chanced to glance back across the street, where the passage was outlined by the irregular splatters. "The street cleaner's going to be pissed, Mom.." Noted the champion of justice and (failed) searcher of the missing elven mages, before promprtly passing out from blood loss.
[19:49] <Valorin> "Keh." He turned from the door, shaking his head. It could speak, but seemed unable to converse. Pushing through the crowd, he motioned for them to disperse and stay well away from the building, before waving Rilien to follow him as he grabbed a Temple healer by the arm and set out along the trail of blood with the man in mildly painful tow.
[19:50] * Morose is now known as Dove
[19:51] * Dove is now known as Dove|Company
[19:53] <Zsuzsanna> *~'Following the trail to it's end. She tried her best to grab Margaret before she fell over and did more damage to herself. Knealing down on the ground, pulling the cleric's body onto hers. One hand tugging at the scarf around her neck, using that as a makeshift bandage for the moment, not wanting more blood to come out. One hand held the bandage tightly while the other went straight to the >
[19:54] <Zsuzsanna> forhead of the cleric, trying to send a message to try to get the woman back to her proper senses til the healer came just shortly.'~*
[19:56] * Rilien followed, swift and silent. As he went, he would slip from corner to corner, keeping a close watch on the flanks of his leader and the valuable healer. Uncertain of the capabilities of this 'monster' or whatever threat they were dealing with, caution was always best.* ~
[20:00] <Margaret> Zsuzsanna's hand encountered unusually cool skin, both the touch, and the fumbling with that accursed scarf- bringing the fanatic to some semblance of consciousness. "Have they found them yet?" She wondered, vaguely, staring at some point over the crone's head. "Can't have him kill anymore people.."
[20:02] <Valorin> Valorin shifted past Margaret, scowling and letting go of the healer in a silent order to get to work. Satisfied that he would be listened to, he walked further down the avenue, setting out to gather the people whom Margaret had planned to. She had almost made, too, before she collapsed.
[20:04] <Zsuzsanna> "Valorin is going ahead to look for us. You're in no shape to move ahead. The healer is here to help you.. please let them help you. He will not be allowed to kill anyone else. Just rest your mind." *~'If Margaret had her eyes open, she was staring down hazy eyed at the woman, trying to send her to a place of comfort for the time being so her light would not fade.'~*
[20:06] * Rilien instinctively started to try and follow Valorin, but then corrected himself. He tried to catch the elven prince's eye, all the same - but barring explicit instruction, would stay to stand guard over the fallen paladin and the healer.*~
[20:11] <Margaret> "Can trust that to him." The pally lowered her gaze to stare into the crone's eyes, as if mesmerized. ... And the healer, arriving right on cue, seemed to know what he was doing. Which is to say, could apply first aid and minor runes of holding with the best of them. Having done what could be done, the fellow motioned for Rilien to grab one arm of the cleric in question, while he, himself, gotten another, and, with a couple of grateful words to the older lady, departed for the parts unknown.. AkA the local infirmary, three blocks east, and twelve north.
[20:11] <Margaret> ((As good of a place to wrap up as any?))
[20:12] <Valorin> ((Kay. :3))
[20:12] <Margaret> Thanks for the RP, guys. :)
[20:12] <Zsuzsanna> :3
[20:13] * Margaret is now known as Molot

<Princey> :: Readjusting his robes more tightly around his willowy frame, the fox Therian exited the barracks, wooden sandals clopping crisply against the stone flooring. He had traded in his light, thin silken outfits for thicker and warmer ones with multiple layers due to the mildly colder weather up in the mountains this early in the spring. His current attire consisted of an outer robe sporting<c>
<Princey> a pale peach color with scenic valley prints along the ends of the long flowing sleeves and the bottom portion of the fabric that hung just over the feet in colors of white and darker salmon. Dark violet hair was pinned back into a cascading tail with two long, peach colored sticks. Each were crowned at the thick ends with small crystalline blossoms fashioned in the same color. Hands were<c>
<Princey> hidden in his sleeves before him for warmth. He was looking for the infamous royalty who called this hidden and ancient city his home, his silence a result of general awe and respect for a place he had only heard of in stories and history books. ::
<Molot> (Skip me for now?)
<Valorin> (kk :3)
<Princey> (( <3 ))
<Valorin> He would find Valorin in the archives of the Temple, slightly yellowed, curled sheafs of paper spread on the table before him, scrolls held open by paperweights of ornate stone, carved in the shape of mythical beasts. Fingers trailed the parchment as he quietly murmured the words to himself as he read. The illustrious prince was clad...well, rather the opposite of illustrious. A faded black <c>
<Valorin> sleeveless tunic hung from his shoulders, reaching mid knee where it ended to expose deep crimson trousers, and then at his ankles, where bare feet touched cool stone. His hair was held back by a slightly frayed length of leather, rather haphazardly, as a few strands of errant hair hung from his brow and sides of his head. Hearing the click of wooden sandals upon the solid flooring, he turned <c>
<Valorin> his gaze toward the approaching young man, before nodding his head in a silent greeting.
<Princey> :: Taking in the strangely mystifying scene that was Valorin, for the first time in the Therian's eyes, in his own true environment...he could only stare for a moment before realizing his rudeness and casting his eyes away while approaching the highborne elf. :: "...I am terribly sorry, if I am interrupting something of delicate importance or memory to you." :: He started, voice hushed.<c>
<Princey> Everything echoed in this place, and it thus made him all the more self-conscious of whatever noise he made. ::
<Valorin> "No worries. Simply past events of the decades that I have been gone. It is good to catch up on what I have missed." He gave a small nod, lifting the paperweight and watching the aged paper curl itself back up. "How may I help you, Adonis?"
<Princey> "Mmh..." :: He did some last-second gathering of his thoughts, mulling over them quietly for a moment before venturing to return his shamelessly blue vision to Valorin's own. :: "I would fancy a talk with you concerning our movement, as of late. Or rather, our progress, if you will." :: His large, lengthy tail swayed gradually behind him as he spoke. :: "I wish to talk of direction.<c>
<Princey> And where you believe we are headed. Our time together as a group has been priceless, I'll admit, but... I believe we should be striving for change sooner than later. It is what you wish to achieve, is it not?"
<Valorin> "Our stay here will not be long. Simply provisions, and perhaps some other supplies. Then we will head further north, out of Pronteran lands. I doubt that Rubicante will be willing to chase us into unallied territory. If she does, then our foe is a fool and the war is already won." He snorted, shrugging slightly, muscles shifting under pale, scar touched skin. "Perhaps a few days here. Food, <c>
<Valorin> rest, and I believe some obeisance on my part. A visit to the armory may be in order as well. It is...quite extensive."
<Princey> "Why must we let her chase? Should we not dishonor our names, as well as your cause, and turn to face her?" :: He inquired delicately, studying Valorin with precise and calculating eyes. ::
<Molot> Somewhere in the distance, a clatter of metal and excited voices could be heard. Yes... the armory was quite extensive. And the all-too-handsome attending was not used to aging warriors of Goodness, pawing through crates of elaborate plate-mail suits, while squealing like little girls.
* Molot is now known as Margaret
<Valorin> "Valor and suicide are quite seperate. Her resources far outstrip ours. An army, vehicles of war, and an entire city as a base of operations." He gave a small nod. "We are taught here not to fight. Not to kill." He shook his head this time, before grinning wickedly. "We are taught to -win-. And we shall."
<Princey> :: Long pointed ears of rust hue capped with tips of black folded back somewhat, though not completely. It was just the look of sheer confidence taken form in the elf's eyes as a look of wicked determination was, in itself, unsettling to one so unjaded by the ways of the world...let alone war. :: "Warriors of my people were not known for fleeing to fight another day. Their<c>
<Princey> glory and honor was to win, or die in battle. I suppose I simply do not understand your ways, my lord. Though I do trust in them, nonetheless." :: The sounds of a ruckus elsewhere in the temple caused his ears to shift backward somewhat in the direction of the reverberations. ::
<Margaret> In the distance, the voices continued. Pidgin elvish and Common mixed with pure elvish dialect, accompanied by sounds of moving bodies and flapping hands. The fanatic was trying to explain to the seasoned (if gimped) elf warrior the advantages of blunt trauma. The warrior was being extremely unsympathetic, insisting that if they didn't bleed, he wasn't doing his job right.
<Valorin> "It sounds as if one of our compatriots has found the armory. I will assume Margaret, as if it were Rowan, we would no doubt hear violence. Until he was dead, at least." He snorted, rising to his feet. "Shall we see what the ruckus is?" He lifted a long arm with a languid motion, politely motioning for Princey to go ahead.
<Princey> :: Slightly declining his head with a brief closing of his eyes, he moved to exit the  temple archives with concisely paced steps, each punctuated with a wooden clop-sound. ::
<Margaret> There was a long moment of silence from the direction of the armory, followed by the sound of a 170-lbs contraption of a woman and a suit of mail, swooning. The elf, one Elohan, has made his point by demonstrating the lovely, beautiful thing called the 'sword mace'. This was a beginning of a long and beautiful relationship, one that would result for much slashing, stabbing -and- blunt trauma in honor of the Mother.
<Margaret> (continue without me, El called? <3))
<Princey> (( kk ))
<Valorin> Valorin came upon this scene with a look of mild amusement on his face. It had figured, it was Margaret. And her look of pure rapture as just short of hilarious as he saw her grip the new weapon. Turning to Princey, he sighed. "She seems rather occupied. I suppose while we are here, we could find you something, hmm?"
<Princey> "...But I already have a weapon, my lord!" :: Princey countered with a hastily polite air. :: "You needn't waste anything further on myself." :: Glancing around at the assortment of nasty looking weaponry, he honestly didn't like the look of any of them. What a creepy room. ::
<Valorin> "An armory does not simply carry weapons, young Lord." He raised a black eyebrow, before gesturing to the doorway leading deeper into that section of the Temple. "After all, is not the base word of armory armor? We may well find you something of a more protective variety."
<Princey> "...I'm not all too certain I could carry the weight of plating..." :: He thought aloud, glancing over in the direction that Valorin indicated. :: "But, by all means, lead on."
<Valorin> He moved ahead, stepping through the ancient stone archway, the sound of Margaret's glee fading as he strode ahead. They entered a vast atrium, patrolled by armed guards at wandering intervals. The walls, and great racks scattered throughout the room were covered with shining, well kept weapons and armor, seemingly sorted into likened types. "Not all of the initiates here are adept in <c>
<Valorin> fighting in plate either, young Lord. Thus, we have all types of armor, though lighter material is rare up here, and quite a bit more of a rarity."
<Margaret> Back))
<Princey> "I could not possibly take anything of such...precious value to your people. Other elvish warriors could put it to much better use than I..." :: The Therian protested softly, following Valorin and casting his eyes slowly over the items of polished beauty, despite their grim purpose. ::
<Princey> (( Wbs! ))
<Margaret> "But, of course, the plate offers most protection per pound, looks best from the distance, and comes with cup-holders." Added a gleeful voice from behind, as the flesh-and-bone incarnation of another (short-lived) warcleric strolled into the room. "Tell him, Valorin."
<Valorin> "It does. But his frame is so slight as to render him immobile should he attempt it." He laughed, strolling along through the spacious hall before coming to a region which was rife with armor of layered cloth and cured leather. "Something from here should suit him far better."
<Princey> :: The Therian looked over these new forms of armor, visibly intrigued. Long ears were perked forward with curiousity as his vision roved over what was to be found here. :: "Fascinating..."
<Margaret> "It would make him quite a decent archery target, however. Sparing the rest of us undue arrows." She reflected, gazing lovingly at the shiny impliment of utter -doom- that she's just traded the good 'ol hammer for. It was beautiful. It was sharp. And she should've probably picked up a whetstone for it. Damnit.
<Valorin> "A skilled archer could strike one in the throat whether one wore plate or nothing, Margaret. Some protection is better than nothing." He laughed, bare feet padding silently on the cold stone as he moved to glide among the racks, searching for something suitable.
<Princey> :: The fox Therian silently gulped, a hand emerging from a long sleeve to raise and gingerly cover his throat at that. :: "Lovely."
<Margaret> "When have you last met a -skilled archer-?" A snort let the elf know just how much stock the human put into the concept of -anyone- being good at that particular dying art. A comment regarding catching ones' death by running around half-naked also didn't make it past her throat-- for at that moment, the cleric spotted yet another item of superior quality and craftsmanship-- not full plate, but -close-.
* Disconnected
* Attempting to rejoin channel #camp
* Rejoined channel #camp
<Margaret> <Princey> :: The fox Therian silently gulped, a hand emerging from a long sleeve to raise and gingerly cover his throat at that. :: "Lovely."
<Margaret> <Margaret> "When have you last met a -skilled archer-?" A snort let the elf know just how much stock the human put into the concept of -anyone- being good at that particular dying art. A comment regarding catching ones' death by running around half-naked also didn't make it past her throat-- for at that moment, the cleric spotted yet another item of superior quality and craftsmanship-- not full plate, but -close-.
<Valorin> "Rilien is quite skilled. Well, he was when I left home. A few decades honing the art certainly cannot have been detrimental to his skill." He hummed softly, a rhythmless tune from deep in his throat as he wandered the racks, before reaching out to touch an item, and pull it free, the bit of distance between them making it look as a simple crimson doublet.
<Princey> :: Turning to look at what the elvish warrior had chosen from amongst the vast array of items available to him in these cherished halls, a sense of hesitation held him in place. He did not want to waste pieces of rarity from the armory on himself, when...it was highly unlikely that he'd put them to any good use. He would certainly -try-, but...wasn't it a dishonor to the elves if he did not<c>
<Princey> use it well-enough, or to their expectations? ::
<Margaret> "That lad needs a lesson in manners." An oddly luminescent sheen to the metal caught the eye, just as its cool, slick surface pleased the fingers. ".. .. It's been quite nice of your townies, you know." Added the woman, setting the gauntlet back onto the rack. "To offer us free access to everything, just like that. Almost -too- nice."
<Valorin> "They are..." He sighed, a soft frown touching his lips. "Set in their ways. They have nothing but aid to give us, for they are sedentary. I will not force change upon them, not yet." He glanced at Margaret as he hefted the silver studded brigandine and carried it over to Princey. "But one day I shall relight their warrior spirits, and they will march at my command." His tone was sure, <c>
<Valorin> and the frown faded to a determined look before he held the article before the small Therian for his inspection.
<Princey> :: So unsure was he, the Therian youth. Dark violet brows furrowed, eyes of the sky gazing not so much at the presented article as much as the one offering it for inspection. :: "I do not know if I can accept this, my lord." :: He stated, earnestly. :: "I could not dishonor your people by wearing their skillfully crafted armor. For I am not warrior of valor, as much as I might fancy<c>
<Princey> myself to be. I...am no more or less than what you see." :: Normally proud shoulders slumped. :: "Myself."
<Princey> (( no* warrior ))
<Margaret> "Where I'm from.." The stocky figure moved to get a closer look, first at the therian, then at the article presently in his posession. "Some fight, so others do not have to." There was no real reproach in her tone, just matter-of-factness. And, to the foxling. "Take the shirt already, Adonis. It does no good, gathering dust out here."
<Valorin> "She speaks truth. It will do no one good here. And valor, my young lord, is not something inherent in ones character. Valor is something earned through trial and challenge." He gave a nod, fingers touching the crimson dyed suede, running over the rune engraved steel studs. "This gift is my way of telling you that when said challenges arise, that you will meet them with all the valor <c>
<Valorin> required and more. I have confidence in you, Adonis. You are greater than you give yourself credit for." He smiled then, easy and companionable, eyes half closing in friendly mirth.
<Princey> :: The Payonese native looked from the battle-worn (as much as by time) crusader to the highborne prince, and then down at the brigandine. Emerging from the many-layered depths of flowing sleeves, hands rose to hover over the offered item uncertaintly. It was Valorin's smile that sealed the deal, hands grasping the light armor gingerly. ::
<Princey> (( uncertainly* buh. ))
<Margaret> "Now make 'im put it on and run a mile." Leaning against the wall, Margaret managed to look gleeful, amused, smug and a little lonely, all at the same time. The green halo helped, spreading its tentative rays of light from her wrists, outward. Her lips continued to move, whispering words. Though neither Valorin nor Adonis would've heard it, it -was- an invocation of Mother's power against the dust in this location.. for the next decade.
<Valorin> "Perhaps not run a mile. But you should wear it for a while, young Lord. It will be an extra weight upon you, and getting used to it as soon as possible will be the best thing." He gave a nod, glancing about the large room. "Has anything caught your eye other than that weapon, Margaret?"
<Princey> :: Adonis nodded quietly, thinking to himself while studying the armor, the others speaking in the meantime. After they did, he politely interjected. :: "I will go try this on and allow you both to ...talk? I should probably get to a bit of ledger-keeping as well...I've been somewhat neglectful." :: He seemed rather awkward about taking his hasty leave. ::
<Margaret> Anything else, that caught your eye? What a funny question to ask. Finishing the incantation (the effectiveness of which was disputed even in the ranks of the (in)famous Pronteran Inquisition), she looked up at the same being with which she's been travelling in the past months. Same one that may, or may not have been blessed by the will of a God other than her own. "Not particularly." Replied Margaret, sourly.
<Valorin> "Ahh. A pity. The armory is rather expansive. I would offer to show you the forges, but somehow I think that you may find them
rather...offensive." He chuckled, before turning and giving a slight bow toward Princey. "Of course. There is no pressure, young Lord, take your time. Relax while we have the opportunity."
<Princey> "Thank you, my lord..." :: The Therian whisked himself away with hurried clip-clops of wooden-sandaled feet, his fluffy tail last to vanish around the corner in his fleeting wake. ::
<Margaret> "Ought to stop treating me with kid gloves. Major cities of Midgard have their share of forges, and 've come to learn that if you do not stand over the shoulder of the damn smith, he's going to do whatever the hell he wants, and in two sizes too small." Somewhere around the rafters, something skittered, dropping a few dust-balls on their heads. "Lead the way."
<Valorin> He laughed, words unspoken as he lead the way. In time, they moved to the forge, which was down a flight of stairs, below what seemed from the outside to be an amphitheater. Even as the doors were opened, a blast of heat struck them almost physically, as well as a strange, burnt stench beyond even that of heat forged steel. Motioning forward, he stepped into the dim red light before her.
<Valorin> ((Brb doods!))
<Margaret> (Kaykay))
<Margaret> Well, this, at least, was familiar. A stray hair on her forehead curled up against the wave of the heat, but the cleric merely grinned and followed the other into the inferno. The same way that she may, someday, follow him into the chaos and confusion of the battlefield. True followers were not born or bred-- they were made, after denial and doubt, over a period of time longer than most suspected.
* Princey is now known as Dove|Dinner
* Margaret is now known as Molot|AmericanCulturizing
* Molot|AmericanCulturizing is now known as Margaret
<Valorin> Once within, they would be surrounded by elves scurrying back and forth, hair either cut short or fastidiously tied back away from flames. Hammers struck sparks from red hot steel, and furnaces almost hummed with divine heat. And the source of the peculiar scent would be revealed as the wandered the room, a blacksmith hefting a finished blade with his tongs, before <c>
<Valorin> plunging it with a deep, long hiss into a shallow barrel filled with churning, apparently fresh blood.
<Margaret> "Lovely." The word was barely heard amidst the tumult of the enclosed space. "Though unconventional. You weren't kidding when you said that your people were getting ready, were you." She pressed against the wall, out of the craftsmen's way, watching the proceedings with eyes bright of wonder.
<Valorin> "It has been this way as long as I can remember." He smiled slightly, watching them work, nearly having to shout over the din of steel upon steel. He turned slightly, reaching out fingers to lightly touch at a sluice along the wall, with what was almost a gutter leading from it to hang suspended over one of the barrels of blood. "This room smells of war. Fire, steel, and blood."
<Margaret> "Yes, I can -see- that." The indentations were examined, and a questioning brow-lifted in Valorin's general direction. "Nowhere near enough bodies to fit into all that finery, though." Will you take your women and children to war, elf?
<Valorin> "Our women fight as well as our men. Our children, no." He turned with a soft, almost sad smile. "Much of this is simply done as worship to the Lord of War. As I said to Adonis earlier..my people.." His voice softened then, and took on a hint of what could perhaps be bitterness. "They have lost the vital spark that they once had. That flame of their souls that drove them to greatness."
<Margaret> "Forges eternal.." The door creaked, this time-pushed from the inside. She stepped out, holding it open for the radiant to follow. The heat grew tiresome, and the noise- doubly so. This was no Pronteran smithy, but an entire factory, an altar dedicated to production of that, which killed. Your people have become sequestered, she could have told him. Isolated, and probably inbred to a fault. That is what happends when a long-lived <c>
<Margaret> race is stranded. There is no way around it. Not even if the singer of war-songs does watch over this ancient little settlement and all in it. So instead, she asked an easier question. "When did they lose it?"
<Valorin> "Before I was born. Our generations are long, but between my birth and the death of Aenoran, my people have lost the fire of true spirit." He sighed, glancing back as he left the forges. "I want to rekindle that flame. If they could only strive for greatness like humans, they could reach untold heights. But...they are content where they are. I just need to find -impetus-."
<Margaret> "Do you?" Over the sheltered hallway down which they were moving back in the direction of the armory, gusts of wind slapped and clawed. Teased an occasional weed, that grew out of long-neglected gutter. "Here is a little secret, sir." Her steps at his side were slow and measured, each-accompanied by a quiet clank of metal elsewhere on her persona. "Mother teaches many things. Hope in the power of light and life, among them. Yet <c>
* Dove|Dinner is now known as Dove
<Margaret> she teaches, too, of limits. We burn bright and desire much, that is true." A hand was lifted and examined, turned before her face like some ancient relic, lose skin, and scars, and hang-nails. "But we also fade fastest. Be thankful that your folk do not fade with the seasons' passing, and that they can still serve their patron, even if only by habit."
<Valorin> "Is that really true, Margaret?" He cocked his head and moved to lean lightly against the cool stone of the building, muscles
straining as he stretched, almost catlike. "Tell me...what would you truly prefer? A shorter life, full of bright, vivacious energy and accomplishment? Or a long, cold life. Devoid of that flame of life. A long, slow spiritual death far before your body fades away." <c>
<Valorin> Involuntarily, his fists clenched at his sides, and he shook his head as one who was blinking away tears would, though his eyes were clear and cold. "What we are should not deny us the flame of life. It is what we have -chosen- to become. And it cuts me to the core."
<Margaret> "Maybe." Stopping a few steps after Valorin did, the cleric looked back at him, a somewhat annoyed expression- creeping over her features. "It would be better than feeling your body fail you within a span of a year or two
<Margaret> ,<c>
<Margaret> , I think. And certainly better than waking up one morning, and realizing that you no longer run as fast as you used to, nor put that same strength into a blow. Better than looking at an empty cell and knowing that you can't do this for much longer, and there is noone to pick up the slack, or offer a cane to lean on." A pause. "Doubt that an entire -people- could just lose the will to thrive, sir. Perhaps it is but a stage, from <c>
<Margaret> which they need to wake to the trumpet of hard necessity?" For you, my pointy-eared friend, certainly do not lack in vigor..
<Valorin> He laughed quietly, giving a small nod. "Of course. There is always hope for tomorrow, so long as you have the strength to live out the day." Pushing off from the wall, he let out a pleased sigh as the dry brush crinkled beneath his bare feet. "There is no cause to be sad, because I can...I will change things. Thank you for letting me air my doubts, Margaret."
<Margaret> "Hope? Yes, Mother be willing." Hrmph. And here she thought, she was talking about the exact -lack- of it. Sometimes it seemed that different races really were on different wave-lengths, similar brain structure or not. The last words did bring a smile to her face, regardless. "I know you will."
<Valorin> "Gods willing, we can change...fix, many things. The people need to realize that they cannot simply trust those in power. My people, your people, all of them. Trust needs to be earned...and those who have it now have sorely, sorely abused it."
<Margaret> "We can certainly try. One way or another." More time passed, and more space, back to the place of polished and unused weapons, and back to where their companions idled, just about as polished and as idle. "Now, didn't your mother say something about running about exposed, in the beginning of a mountain spring?"
<Valorin> "I could not say. I have only met the woman a few times in my life." He raised his eyebrow slightly, watching her with a mildly bemused expression as he almost tauntingly rubbed his bare feet over the cold stone. "I lived like this for nearly a century. A few more days shall not harm me."
<Margaret> "That's quite unfortunate. I certainly hope that you are on -good terms- with her." The glare had a bit of annoyance and a bit of amusement to it.. make that, 90% the former. It was a glare that said, quite clearly: "Yes, I am familiar with that sort of masculine bravado, disregard for personal health and gall to be able to laugh about it. In prior cases, 've shoved Mother-blessed garden-hoe in unmentionable places to remedy this." <c>
<Margaret> Like many things, this expression remained quite unsaid. "You never know, Valorin. Now do our eyes and noses a favor. Find some socks.."
<Valorin> "Such a sharp tongue. I think you may make my mother faint, should you ever meet her. Gods bless, her meekness is nearly laugh worthy." He shrugged, shaking his head and moving past her to rummage through the wardrobe. He decided it was easier to simply asquiesce rather than risk escalating the argument.
<Margaret> "What sharp tongue. You're imagining things." Shot back the cleric, perching on the corner of the lower bunk, and examining the newly acquired weapon with the thorough attention any new weapon deserved. "Glad that 'm not going to meet her, though. .. regardless."
* Dove is now known as Morose
<Valorin> "It would certainly be interesting." He kept his tone neutral, before dropping to sit and pull on a pair of socks. Wiggling his toes, he stretched out his long legs, feeling the bones creak. It felt odd being able to relax after all the days on the road.
<Morose> :: Back in the depths of the various corridors found within the vast and ancient armory, a shadow passed over the endless shapes of reflective surfaces that lined the walls. An elvish armorer strode past, carrying a newly completed breastplate, fresh from the bloodforge. The shadow followed, streaking across the armor and weapons that surrounded the lone figure as he made his way over to<c>
<Morose> hang the item up. ::
<Margaret> "A complete disaster, more like it." Poking and prodding at the acquisition, she silently marvelled at craftsmanship. Adding to it a few words of thought. I pray, friend Valorin, that you keep me out of sight and, more importantly, upwind of any and all elven ladies in this town of yours. They're fine enough to look at, but when they open their -mouths-... "Want to scout the mess-hall for late lunch remnants, or have you better things <c>
<Margaret> to attend to?"
<Valorin> "A meal sounds lovely. There should still be food somewhere around." He gave a nod, moving to strap his sword across his left hip before donning his boots to forestall any remarks from Margaret.
<Morose> :: It was at this point that a horrified scream tore through the dust and the stale, ancient air, echoing through the stone halls a thousand times over. ::
<Margaret> She was about to make a particularly snide remark about footwear, and warrior's common sense, before the scream came, bringing with it a moment of incomprehension. Then fear. And, finally, adrenaline-driven -rage-. No housewife screamed like that over a spilt pan of soup, and no ironsmith would howl so even at the touch of red-hot metal against his skin. Trouble came on the tracks of the small group, to a place where they thought they were safe.
<Morose> (( where they thought they were s-- ))
<Margaret> afe.
<Valorin> Valorin reacted swiftly. Boots on, sword ready, he bolted, sharp ears following the noise as his feet thudded over the stone and then hard packed soil. Turning just a moment over his shoulder to make sure Margaret was following him, he burst into the armory, sword slithering free with a deep rasp.
<Morose> :: The two emerged on the scene of...a myriad of black inky tendrils all spilling out from the countless pieces of metal around the room, be they armor or weaponry, violently and repeatedly impaling a long-since deceased body after the initial tendril first shot through his skull, leaving a gaping hole behind. A horrible, maddening fit of laughter could be heard echoing in the background. ::
<Margaret> She arrived but a second behind the fleeter-footed elf, newly acquired swordmace- in hand, mind- already summoning forth the words of abrasive wounding and pain unheavenly. A single glance around the place confirmed that shit, indeed, has hit the fan. For a change, Margaret did not bother with good-sounding one liners such as "Do we smash it now, or now?", "How many warriors of <c>
<Margaret> goodness does it take to get to a center of an inky lollipop?", "Don't your people take -self-defense classes-?", or even "What the hell is that thing?".
<Valorin> Valorin was equally silent, face grim as he strode without pause into the room. Sliding fluidly to the nearest tendril, his blade flashed out in a glittering arc. If it was solid enough to pierce flesh, then perhaps it was solid enough to be cut.
<Morose> :: The tendril in question was indeed -cleanly- severed through, said tendril thrashing violently before recoiling into the piece of armor it had emerged from. The laughter abruptly stopped as well, becoming noises of suffering. The other tendrils paused accordingly, retracting into their respective reflective surfaces. :: "...Hsss...hff...unhh....ahhh...l-little piece...."
<Margaret> "May Your light burn those, which have offended the sensibilities of Your servants, o Mother of Allthings.." The cleric stayed back, both hands- clenched tightly over the handle of her (new and improved) weapon, which at this time began to glow a malicious, -infectious- lime-green. Someone was praying for pain. Someone else had no reason to refuse her.
<Valorin> He hissed quietly, eyes moving to the prone, mutilated form upon the ground. Fingers tightening on the hilt of his sword, knuckles whitened by the vicious force. "Come out, beast. If you want to play, you've found a willing participant here." He spat the words, filled with an abnormal amount of vitriol, at least for him.
<Morose> "Little piece...little..." :: Rasped the horrific voice, reminiscent of shattering glass and train wrecks, accompanying a serenade of nails on chalkboards. The two mighty warriors could see a shadow pass over the shining surfaces of the items lining the walls. A nightmarish, stylized...elongated figure. Stretched and bending amidst the dark ink-like substance it appeared to be made from.<c>
<Morose> Slipping and floating across their vision, like some unreal...dream. The way it moved could never be found in nature. Not now, not ever. A venomously neon violet stare leered out at them, flitting over the metal. Narrowing. :: "...Cave walls...high..."
<Margaret> And where the shadow-walker travelled, a pair of green-flecked brown eyes followed. "That thing was in Prontera, right before we left." Margaret did not quite make it a question, though at the pause in incantation, the toxic aura did become a notch fainter. "..And didn't make anymore sense then, either."
<Valorin> His blade lifted halfway before him, at the ready in whatever direction he should need to wield it. His reponse was concise, and requested the only thought on his mind at the moment. "Can it be killed?"
<Morose> "Salt in your skin...that leaves a small scar..." :: Sang the Nightmare eerily, shifting and fading from one surface to the next. :: "Sits there murdering time...a red shiny star..." :: From behind Margaret, a tendril shot out without warning, rigid and true, aiming to slice or impale the woman's weapon-wielding hand or wrist. With bludgeoning force, if necessary... ::
<Margaret> "If it talks, it's got lungs. If it's got lungs, it's ..!" A darting of something black, barely caught out of the corner of one eye, and then a spear of pain shooting through the wrist, out from where metal stopped and leather cords began-- yet pain was an old adversary indeed, and the mace dropped from one hand landed in another. And swung, to slice.
<Valorin> His eye caught the movement, and he curled his lip in a slight snarl. So that's how it was. Watching Margaret swing, he slithered past her, blade flicking as well for good measure as he barked a short order. "Into the doorway! It comes from reflections, limit the range of its assault!"
<Morose> "In a tiny little cave...a dog is sleeping on his back~" :: The Nightmare continued its unnerving, maddening song as they moved, the woman's awkward off-handed slice narrowly missing. It was Valorin's blade that nicked it as it whipped back into the reflection from whence it
came. :: "Iron chains around his leg...he's purring loud enough to snap~"
<Valorin> ((Augh, I gotta go sleep for work. Can we pick up tomorrow afternoon? D:))
<Margaret> "Got news." Snapped the cleric, slowly backing into a corner that seemed to have the least reflective surfaces of the four. She did note the corpse on the floor, but that one was obviously too far gone to be helped. "I -am- a fuckin' reflection.."
<Margaret> ((Shore.))
<Valorin> (If she would LISTEN to him, he could grab clumps of dirt from outside and make her NOT reflective. >:O))
<Valorin> ((But yes, sleepy time. Night guys, thanks for the RP! :D))
<Margaret> (( >O))
<Margaret> ((Much thanks. XD))
<Morose> (( :> ))
<Margaret> ((For what it's worth, she's doing the logical thing to -not- endanger 'er commanding officer?))
* Valorin has quit IRC (Quit: )
<Morose> (( :D ))
<Margaret> ;D))

[12:52] <Alexandra> *Upon passing the town gate, the knightess threw her burden over her shoulder - a most undignified way in which to be transported, to be sure. She kept mainly to the shadows - though at the moment, there was little to be seen aside from a body-shaped object wrapped in her cloak; judging by the overall lack of movement it was either dead, unconscious, or not alive to begin with. ~
[13:01] <Yurr> Someway down the road, two birds emerged from the low-hanging branches of spruces. One carried a human; the other enjoyed the relative freedom of lose lead. "What'cha got there?" Asked the rider, letting the avians fall into slow step alongside the velare. "And why've we been waitin' for a corpse for most of the afternoon?"
[13:03] * Dove is now known as Dove|AFK
[13:03] * Alexandra arched a fine brow for a moment, then her lips curled into that treacherous smile as devious amber eyes twinkled up at the knightess, "Ohhh - come now! There's no need to be so negative... Cheer up, I brought dinner!" *She jostled the bundle a bit to indicate what she was referring to, failing to supress a grin as she said this.* ~
[13:10] <Yurr> "Mount up." Was the laconic reply, followed by a broken creak, a sort of sound that was not commonly produced by a human throat; a sound which made both of the birds creak in response, dropping to their haunches. "Tis been a long day, and tellin' Oni same stories o'er and o'er again is no longer quite as fun."
[13:13] <Alexandra> "Ahh... My apologies - well, 'tis really time to be moving on, anyway. We shall make our way to new territory and begin making some waves." *She grabbed the peco's reins with her free hand and swung her leg over, smiling broadly all the while. She seemed more please than usual about the way the day had gone, judging by said smile. "Have you found a camp yet? It grows late... -
[13:13] <Alexandra> ((sorry bout the red >_>
[13:13] <Alexandra> -"Likely, we will not make it far tonight. We can use some time to plan and rest up." ~
[13:18] <Yurr> "Tis but a few miles ahead." Another chirp, and the birds were up and going, swirving off the well-travelled path to one laid by the movement of large herbivores. "Used ta be a goblin village, I thinks. ... Heck, still was a goblin village when we first arrived ta it. Hope ya don't mind the smell of charred flesh too much. ... ... ...What's in the sack, 'nyway?"
[13:21] <Alexandra> "Ohhh~ Quite pleasant! And no, not at all - though I can't say goblin is quite my preference." *She shrugged as much as the burden permitted, though a touch of disappointment had flitted across her face at the lanky one's lack of a response to her joke about 'dinner'... perhaps she hadn't been so far off, in fact.* "This? A captive. And my thanks, by the way. -
[13:22] <Alexandra> "I am all for making use of every moment, but I believe I would prefer to start fresh on the morrow after a quiet night." ~
[13:27] <Yurr> "A captive?" A bushy brow went up, shortly followed by a hand. The pecos paused, pering to and from in the growing dusk, while something of considerable size crashed through the undergrowth someway up ahead. "Hope we haven't descended ta eatin' human meat just yet/"
[13:27] <Yurr> ?"
[13:31] * Alexandra 's hand went to her sword hilt instintively, just in case, and she turned to Yurr a moment after wearing a dark smile, the side of her mouth tugging upwards in a grin, "What, you thought I was kidding about dinner?" *The disturbing was, behind that somewhat unnerving smile, she actually appeared to be utterly serious. After a lengthy pause, though, she sighed in a disappointed -
[13:32] <Alexandra> * - manner... "Alas, though... unfortunately, this one is for a different purpose." ~
[13:41] <Yurr> The creature passed, dropping out of their range of hearing, and they've resumed; tired steps under congealing shade. "Ah.. the Purpose, the Direction, and the Cause. All of these, unclear. Did that poor soul look at you funny, m'lady?"
[13:44] * Alexandra gave an abrupt bark of a laugh, then half-purred, "Oooh~ Why, my dear Yurr - if I didn't know any better I would think you displeased with my work this day! Nay, on the contrary... he was merely in an unfortunate place at -just- the right time." *A cruel grin.* ~
[13:50] <Yurr> "Juss curious, is all." The knight wannabe swayed in the saddle, complacently keeping an eye on the passing bramble-bushes and evergreens. "Tis not everyday that you drag in a fellow.. or a gal? for an evening meal, and prolly expect us to bandage their wounds.. or pull their fingernails?"
[13:51] * Alexandra perked up a bit at the last, "Ooooh! Now -there's- an idea? Would you -like- to? I don't suppose he needs them." *She sneered softly at the thought.* ~
[13:51] <Alexandra> *an idea!
[13:56] <Yurr> "Ain't my bag'o'tea." She shook her head, back and forth, making that (rather ugly, really) overlarge hat sway precariously. "What's the use, 'nyway? Just for the heck of it? Doesn't seem like the guy's done anything to deserve it."
[13:57] <Alexandra> "Does he -need- to do anything to deserve it? Tsk. I am not here to coddle those who do nothing to help us, you know... and it is, in fact, not just - how do you phrase it? 'For the heck of it'." ~
[13:58] <Yurr> "-Could- he be made to help us?"
[14:00] <Alexandra> "Oh - he will be useful, in his own way... though I am afraid he will be with us only for a short while." *The demoness' expression was quite mellow, with no evidence whatsoever of any emotional disturbance regarding the subject. If anything, her lack of concern was almost chilling.* ~
[14:02] <Yurr> "Are ya =intentionally= holding out on the meat?" The pale stare was visible even in almost complete darkness. Like two pieces of tinted chalk, peering out of nowhere. A rustle and a click later, a torch was lit, to outline the actual face that the eyes sat in.. and what a sour one it was.
[14:08] * Disconnected
[14:09] * Attempting to rejoin channel #stuffs
[14:09] * Rejoined channel #stuffs
[14:09] * MolotTheAsleep is now known as Molot
[14:09] <Molot> [14:00] <Alexandra> "Oh - he will be useful, in his own way... though I am afraid he will be with us only for a short while." *The demoness' expression was quite mellow, with no evidence whatsoever of any emotional disturbance regarding the subject. If anything, her lack of concern was almost chilling.* ~
[14:09] <Molot> [14:02] <Yurr> "Are ya =intentionally= holding out on the meat?" The pale stare was visible even in almost complete darkness. Like two pieces of tinted chalk, peering out of nowhere. A rustle and a click later, a torch was lit, to outline the actual face that the eyes sat in.. and what a sour one it was.
[14:09] * Yurr has quit IRC (Ping timeout)
[14:10] * Molot is now known as Yurr
[14:12] <Alexandra>  Alexandra blinked back over at Yurr, eyebrows raising a bit, "I'm sorry? My... you've had a rather tiring day, haven't you. Really. It's not as if I'm not going to -tell- you, if that's what you're so worked up over. I merely thought to wait until we'd settled and could speak properly in the camp, that is all. Chezuri will wish to know as well, yes?" *There was a slight frown to her gaze -
[14:12] <Alexandra> <Alexandra> - just this side of warning, but for the most part she was still acting quite calm about the matter, features remaining rather neutral emotionally.* ~
[14:16] <Yurr> "Just curious, is all." Repeated the woman, stubbornly, pointedly avoiding the comment regarding the Onitsune. Truth be told, Yurr doubted that the knight would care much either way-- Chez was not prone to humanistic gestures or even common courtsey, the majority of the time.
[14:22] * Alexandra nodded slightly - kidnapping aside, she actually seemed to be in a relatively pleasant mood, for her. "As for the bandaging you had mentioned earlier, Yurr - I do not expect you to be responsible for it, but I will -permit- you to tend to the injury if you so wish to. He is not badly hurt, but I wish to see it mended before we take him to whoever I will be giving him to. -
[14:23] <Alexandra> "Simply be sure he is tied up securely at all times. Also, we should blind-fold him when either of you are around. No point in exposing ourselves more than necessary." ~

<Kryztal> Kryztal's home was rather small, only having one room for herself, although it was rather large. You would think a two story building would have at least three...but this was the cheapest house Kryztal could own. Her home wasn't very decorated either, lacking furniture and what not, but it was peaceful and felt comforting to be inside. Cool air blew threw the opened window while Kryztal sat <c>
<Kryztal> on her bed, yawning as she stared at her ceiling, wondering where the crusader was right now...~
<Margaret|Spot> The wordless question was answered soon enough, by the threatening creak of the house's wooden panelling and pitiful SQUEEAL of the rain-spout, a squeal that sounded more like a deathwish than anything. First a fuzzy head, then an arm squeezed through the crack in the window, before the entirety of it swung open, and a half-naked man tumbled in. "The bean soup was awful." Noted this man, while staring into the ceiling from <c>
<Margaret|Spot> his awkwardly sprawled position.
<Kryztal> Kryztal's daydreaming was interrupted by the creaking and loud squeals coming from outside... She grew tense, grabbing her whip from her belt and stepping slowly toward the opened window-- until she saw the half naked form of a man tumble through her window right in front of her. ...All Kryztal could manage was to let her mouth drop open, her eyes buldging from her sockets... <c>
<Kryztal> Whether the half naked form was more shocking or how the man managed to climb up into her window was surprising. Finally, her mind snapped back into place and just as swiftly would crack her whip at the intruder and hiss violently, "Who the hell are you?! Answer me before I strike you!"~
<Kryztal> ...surprising didn't matter to her.**))
<Spot> The man looked familiar. In fact, he looked identical to that weird crusader of Feirun that's interrupted her yesterday's performance with promises of bedtime stories, except the armor was missing. By the hand-shaped red spots on both cheeks and the soft, pajama-like cotton pants, it was safe to say that this one's just emerged out of a -domestic dispute-. "Never -ever- have the stuff in Frothing Otter with an extra dose of their <c>
<Spot> 'special' sauce." The warning appeared heart-felt, and was delivered even as the fellow scrambled to sit up. "The sauce's got -rat droppings- in it, black pepper my ass."
<Kryztal> Upon further inspection of the man, the demoness's jaw would drop again briefly, her guard somewhat dropped... She was convinced that this crusader-- in pajama pants no less-- had problems...and yet, after a few moments of pure silence and stares, she would raise a brow at the eccentric crusader and squelch her laughter, "...Y-you're that crusader...What was your name again?" A couple of short<c>
<Kryztal> breaths and she was fairly back to normal, except she was a bit peeved at the crusader using the window rather than knocking on her door like a normal human being, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Climbing houses and breaking into people's houses isn't exactly a good thing for a Paladin...--Hey wait...where is your armor anyway...?" The only clothing the crusader had were those <c>
<Spot> "We are but a spot. And we've also owed you -education-, never mind armor." The guy wiggled his eyebrows, managing to look quite sleazy and innocent as a lollipop... all at the same time. "Apes climbed, monkeys climbed, caterpillars climbed.. what makes -us- any better, eh? Besides. It's not breaking and entering if it's an invitational party~." The crusader stared up at her like a kicked puppy. A kicked puppy with a <c>
<Spot> ribbon around its neck. A kicked puppy with a ribbon around its neck, that's been sitting in a bowlful of chocolate.
<Kryztal> ...What could Kryztal say to this 'spot'? Her face was blank, or at least twisted in confusion..."I...--W-well you could of used the door..." The window was probably a little messed up, but it's not like Kryztal has to keep it in tip-top shape...The crusader would be her first visitor in a long time. "...W-what's with the puppy eyes and...-- And cut that out, now! You can stay...<c>
<Kryztal> I can't say what's more surprising; letting yourself in through my window, or keeping your promise..." Regardless, Kryztal grinned pleasantly at Spot and lightly and awkwardly patted his head, "...Aren't you cold? You only have your pajamas on..."~
<Spot> "Freezing only keeps one alive longer. Besides, putting on clothing takes -time-. We've no time to waste." The flesh on the man's arms and shoulders was beginning to rise up in little goosebumps, clearly belying the statement. And as for the puppy look, it disappeared as soon as its purpose was over and done with. "Now, what shall it be? A treatise about the Twins? Or a cautionary tale about creation of Sheol? Or maybe <c>
<Spot> even the myth of the Forbidden tier?~"
<Kryztal> Kryztal noticed the crusader-- Spot, as he refers to himself-- was cold in spite of his white lie. She would take an extra blanket from her bed and wrap it around the crusader, also tempted to scold him for running about in the cold like that...but refrained, for it is story time. "...The Twins?" she questioned as she sat on the floor in front of the crusader. <c>
<Kryztal> "Will Spot tell me about these Twins?"~
<Spot> Snuggling into the blanket, and overlaying the free corners so it looked a bit tent-like, the spot grinned appreciatively. "Twins.. yes, we know of the Twins. Who, of the Velare, does not? Anachel the Dream-master, and Valoe the Shadow-Dancer, so they were, so they are, and so they would continue to be. A hundred days could be spent, telling of their exploits, and each day would be as horrible as the past two combined~ What is <c>
<Spot> it that the Human-or-Dancer wants to hear, of our dearly beloved, dearly feared patron Gods?"
<Kryztal> Kryztal chuckled quietly at she watched Spot make a tent out of the blanket, his child-like demeanor amused and pleased her. "Yes, I believe I have heard of Anachel and Valoe...How did they came to be? What makes them so feared and powerful...?" The dancer would bring her legs up and hug them with her arms, her complete attention was on the storytelling crusader.~
<Spot> "What makes any God feared, and powerful?" The grin never seemed to leave his face- but migrate, from one part of it to another, sometimes even hiding behind the hairline. "Oh, we hear many a thing, we do. We have. The worm has, back in his tunnels. Ages and ages ago. That they are the shards of the original creation, that they are the first Fallen Leaves of the world's tree.. The truth, my dear? It is simple. We make Gods. <c>
<Spot> We make them in our own image, and channel faith, to make them stronger. The Twins are the patron Gods of a harsh, harsh realm... and that makes the faith they feed on all the stronger~"
<Kryztal> "Creating our own idols to worship... But I don't understand why anyone would put faith into such patron gods..." Kryztal was not exactly like most Velare or Lesser Velare... A demon would think one of their kind has been tainted by a human would make them weaker, inferrior and not worth the attention. But accepting the human in her was no problem for Kryztal, but accepting gods...created <c>
<Kryztal> out of thought bothered her. "If that is true, than I could create a god as well, can't I? Or make you a god?"~
<Spot> "Oh, they probably existed as mere mortals." The pupilless blue eyes stared through the comely features of the woman, seeing very little, if any, of them. "Walked the path, climbed the hill, became focus points for the belief of the thief, and the sneak, and the cutthroat that -wishes he could-." The grin migrated back to the mouth area, and widened a notch. "Except he -couldn't-. It takes a lot more than a single person to make a God, Dancer."
<Spot> Mind if we'll wrap up in a couple of posts? Sorta need to get up tomorrow. XD))
<Kryztal> "Followers. Worshippers-- What of their deeds then?" The more Spot explained, the deeper her fascination went. "If they were mortals, then how would they have gained that power to become Gods? What of them now?" Curious Kryztal had many questions, and had all the time in the world for stories.~
<Kryztal> Okay :3))
<Kryztal> Sorry I took longer on that one ><))
<Spot> <3))
<Spot> "Your guess is as good as ours~ We're not Gods for a good reason, do you not think?" Abruptly, the crusader toppled over, rolling up against the wall and snuggling himself tighter into the folds of the blanket. "Deeds, probably." He blinked, sleepily, looking up at her with a look that had nothing of the archvelare she knew in it. Just a tired human with too many scars for his supposed lifespan. "Songs. Monuments. And now, <c>
<Spot> they are neither here, nor there, caught between worlds, and waiting for the folk to bring them back. Sometimes, they even come of their own accord." There was a longer silence, over which the shamelessly blue eyes were partially obscured by heavy lids. "We saw them, once. Twice. Both of them. And they were the most beautiful beings this world has never had to offer..."
<Kryztal> "Mmmmm..." Spot was not the only one beginning to feel weary. Kryztal watched Spot, yawning a little as he continued to speak of the Twins. "Beautiful beings?...But beauty can be found in normal Velares too...Like...Will. Not always in looks, but what makes a person-- or velare. Or any creature for that matter..." The demoness' voice trailed off a bit, her body slowly shutting itself down. <c>
<Kryztal> Taking both of their conditions into consideration, Kryztal straightened herself up a bit and grinned, "Would the spot prefer to rest here? I wouldn't suggest being out there with just your cotton pants..." She tugged on a pillow and pushed it toward him and offering him a friendly smile.~
<Spot> "Beauty is easy to spot, but nearly impossible to perfect. It is an ever-evasive adversary.." The human trailed off, snickering at her example of a beautiful velare. In his subconsciousness, a blurry, tuft-tailed entity actually snorted, checking something off its mental list. It was, indeed, getting late, and the offer was tempting, yet.. "But you?" He blinked, looking from the pillow to the woman. It didn't look like the small <c>
<Spot> house had much of anything, especially doubles.
<Kryztal> Kryztal shrugged tiredly at his snickering. "I suppose I care not for beauty then..." Her soft smile was still present, "I would prefer my guests to feel comfortable and at home. Therefore...--" Kryztal threw an old, somewhat raggidy teddy bear at the spot, "Make yourself at home... Just...don't escape through the window, alright?" The whole window thing didn't seem to bother her much now. <c>
<Kryztal> "Bed or floor? Maybe my small...dusty couch?" which was downstairs.~
<Spot> "But it's such a -nice- window.. .. ... no, it really is quite allright." He made a move to rise, shrugging off the blanket for the favor of skin-to-air contact.. and more goosebumps. ".. the morsel would fry us for spending a night out." And, in a much lower tone. "Would probably still smell it, anyway.."
<Kryztal> It wasn't surprising that she was a little disappointed, but her disappointment was replaced with anticipation, "Will you return...? I'd love to hear more stories..." She arose and stepped a bit closer to Spot, picking up the blanket he had borrowed and covering him with it again, "Try not to get sick, either. And if you're going to visit, be careful with the window, haha..."~
<Spot> "Oh!" The blanket -was- a pleasant surprise. Whether or not Kryztal would see it again.. was an altogether different question, and one not answered in this post. "Maybe. Probably. Perhaps." Replied the strange man cheerfully, half-bowing to the velare in a mild mockery of the arch's formal ways.. before bodily throwing himself out of the window, blanket and all. A moment later, there was a sound of body hitting body below, <c>
<Spot> and a happy exclamation of "Hi, grandma!"

----
----

OOC: Possibly one of the more flattering things a person can say about another person's character.
-----

<Spot> Shall we make that an e? :>))
<Kryztal> XDDDD....Yes, we can end here *Snrks at Spot's exclamation*x333))
<Spot> ... X3 *licks* Thankee for the RP.
<Kryztal> x333 Ohbabeh ;D~ And anytime, Mol! <3333
<Kryztal> ...I can't stop laughing at the last post though XDDDDDD!!
* Spot is glad that she's doing something right. XD
<Kryztal> XDDDDD
<Kryztal> I -LOVE- Spot, Mol
<Kryztal> Epicness cannot compare to him XD
<Spot> ... Oh, gawd. XD;
<Spot> He's.. nuts.
* Spot bonks.
<Kryztal> Yes, but he's fuuuuuun to RP with XD
<Kryztal> *Hands you a Kryztal plushie* x3
<Kryztal> Oh!
<Kryztal> Damn it D:
* Spot huggles up with it, and skitters to beddd.
<Spot> Why damnit?
<Kryztal> I forgot to give Spot the teddy bear :<
<Spot> Next time.
<Spot> 8D
<Kryztal> Yes, next time x333!

Valorin> Stark blue skies stretched above the traveling party, the occasional cloud casting a dark spot upon the rocky ground. Worn and weary, the group came to a narrow crevasse through the mountains. The tall elf would stride forward, eyes not even flicking to the sides as the pass became littered with some rather...interested detritus. Bones. Mounds of them. Human, orc, and things less recognizable
<Valorin> lay where they had fallen, the occasional broken steel arrow still littering amongst the remains. His lips twitched upwards at the sight, and his stride didn't waver as he meandered down the killing ground.
<Margaret> It's been an incredibly difficult track across some rough terrain-- and nowhere did this trial show more clearly, than in the creature following the noble elf. Rerun looked to be made of skin and bones, moulting in a few places and barely giving the bones a second glance in the journey towards what would surely be his death. The one leading the bird, however.. travel seemed to agree with Margaret, if not in reduction <c>
<Margaret> of wrinkles, then at least in the fiesty greenish light, flickering in the depths of her eyes and the shadow of the hair. "Getting to it?" She asked of the leader, stepping over one partially whole skeleton, which stretched across their path, as if reaching for something.
<Princey> (( Skip me for now. ))
[20:05] <Rilien> *The silence was rather forboding, barely a breeze to be had in the desolation that overshadows this barren area. A scraggly bush or shrub here, a silent sentinel stone now and again - but mostly, rubble and bones. Even so... those who attentive enough might began to feel a touch uneasy; a tingle in the spine, like that unsettling prickly feeling one gets when one is being watched. -
[20:07] <Rilien> * And wait - was that a rustle over by that bush? Surely it was only a small rodent or desert animal, though; after all - there's been no sound to disturb the deadly silence. Though the sun did seem to be getting in their eyes - one or two of them might notice what seemed like a flicker.  Perhaps it's just a reflection off of some old discarded possession of one of the unfortunate skeletons...~
[20:12] <Valorin> The lanky Elf came to a stop amidst a rather sizable pile of bones, feet kicking them lightly as he settled in, dropping to a crouch and resting one hand on his knee, the other raising to motion those behind him to stop as well. "Hold here. If we travel any further without caution, we could find ourselves joining those who call this valley home." Sliding his knife from his hip, he held it
[20:13] <Valorin> into the bright light of the unobstructed sun, sending dazzling lances of reflected light further back up the pass, toward the shadowed region where the number of bodies was far, far thinner.
[20:14] <Margaret> Coming to a halt as instructed, the pally cast a curious look about them. As far as this place was from low-income neighborhoods that she's had to patrol for many a night, it still had some familiar characteristics. Such as it, being blatantly obvious, when someone was about to shoot you in the hindparts.
[20:18] <Rilien> *There was a series of flickers in response, almost eery in the deadly stillness of this place.*
[20:19] * Princey is now known as Dove|AFK
[20:22] <Valorin> He rose to his feet, dusting off his already rather grime encrusted trousers before sighing. "Well then. We will not be receiving any new orifices at this moment." A chuckle, and he kicked the pile of bones further away from his feet before stepping out of it, hefting his pack and setting out toward the end of the pass.
[20:25] <Margaret> Wordlessly, the group followed along, the general weariness and sore feet- claiming victory over potential dread of going to the source of the slaughter.
[20:30] * Rilien slipped from rock to shrub unseen.. to suddenly appear as if out of nowhere at the other elf's side. His attire was an uninspiring study in drab and faded browns, yellowish tones and generally earthy appearance allowing him to blend in completely with the terrain, right down his almost white-blond hair. He bore a finely-made longbow across his back and a hunting knife at his side, -
[20:32] <Rilien> * - a handkerchief wrapped around his neck. He was invisible moment and then in the next, he merely saluted Valorin without a word, falling into step just slightly behind and to the side.* ~
[20:35] <Valorin> "Rilien." Valorin smiled, nodding and turning back toward Margaret as he slowed his pace. "Margaret, this is Rilien, my cousin." He cocked his head, before giving a short bark of laughter. "Oh, I missed your manhood ceremony at the temple! My apologies, I'm sure it was exciting."
[20:39] <Margaret> "A pleasure, no doubt." The older woman nodded to the newcomer after a moment, having gotten (at least somewhat) past the part where she almost had a heart attack at things jumping out of nowhere. Too many damn elves. Too many damn pretty elves. One was ENOUGH. "How much of these are yours?" The phrase was uttered with a smile in the direction of the boneyard, and a wink in that of Rilien..
[20:44] * Rilien seemed, up to this point, the picture of discipline, with an expression of nearly stern concentration. Even knowing now that the group was of friendly intent, his sharp eyes remained attentive for any signs of danger. Only at Valorin's address to him did the stolid
exterior thaw slightly and cause him to crack a hint of a smile. His eyes, however, held something far older than how his cousin
[20:46] <Rilien> * -was likely to remember him; he seemed a bit more hardened - both from maturity and experience but also the realities of the world, though to some of the others he might still seem quite young. He gave a bow of deep respect in reponse to Val's offered apology, though he did not speak. At Margaret's comment, there was a very mild frown and he flicked a somewhat narrowed gaze -
[20:47] <Rilien> * in her direction, appearing a bit leery of her - or perhaps misunderstanding her comment, one could only guess as he spoke not a word.* ~
[20:56] <Valorin> ((SORRY!))
[20:57] <Valorin> ((I was booking my flight for next month))
[20:57] <Margaret> Wb.))
[20:57] <Rilien> ((Beginning to think I killed it xD;; ))
[20:57] <Margaret> Never!)
[20:58] <Valorin> "Take no offense, Margaret. Rilien has always been...taciturn." He shook his head slightly, grinning almost like an older sibling who was teasing their younger brethren. "Actually..I am not sure if he has ever seen a human before. I know I had not until I left home."
[21:02] <Margaret> "Ahhh. One of -those-." She nodded, sagely, tugging on the Rerun's reigns. The overloaded bird gave the party a reproachful look and waddled to catch up. "Well, kid.. news for you. Humans don't bite. Mostly."
[21:07] * Rilien shook his head in the negative at Valorin's comment regarding humans. There was almost a hint of tiredness, perhaps, deep in his eyes at the teasing, though he did seem precisely hurt. His eyes would flick back and forth between the two occasionally, taking in the whole conversation with a glint of obvious intelligence. His response to Margaret's joke was -not- a friendly one -
[21:08] <Rilien> * *not a friendly *look... and when his eyes settled on the bird at last, as if for the first time, his expression grew less inviting yet. In fact, he looked from the bird to her in a nearly accusatory manner.* ~
[21:11] <Valorin> He caught the look in his cousin's eye, coming to a stop and turning to the younger elf. Extending his arm before him to clasp Rilien's, he smile, expression quite a bit more serious. "It is good to see you, Rilien. Far too long has passed since I have come home." Turning back to the path, he entered the shadows, words wafting back. "And after this time, I do not know when I shall
[21:12] <Valorin> be able to return once more." The silent 'if ever' was left unspoken by his retreating figure.
[21:13] <Margaret> qerhjwkerhwekrjh El-call. Continue without me?))
[21:14] <Rilien> (( <3~ Okeys. .. we'll figure out something
[21:23] * Rilien sighed softly, an empty-sounding little breath of air and offered Valorin a wan smile at the encouragement, though it touched his eyes just enough that they brightened up a bit. He nodded emphatically and with just a second's hesitation lifted his hand to brush Valorin's with a sense of kinship. The last comment directed his way, however, drew deep shadows from the depths of his expression. -
[21:23] * Rilien bustled to catch up to his cousin, seeming a bit more urgent in his attitude of a sudden.* ~
[21:24] <Margaret> "We thought about eating him for a while, but decided against it. Not enough meat to feed a picky, on that one." Shared the pally with the younger elf, mirthfully, appearing quite unaware (or, perhaps, politely ignoring?) the ill humor present. The look she gave the departing ones' back, however, held in it an altogether different set of emotions- regret, being but one of them.
[21:25] * Disconnected
[21:27] * Attempting to rejoin channel #stuff
[21:27] * Rejoined channel #stuff
[21:27] * Margaret has quit IRC (Ping timeout)
[21:27] <MolotTheSemiAfk> "We thought about eating him for a while, but decided against it. Not enough meat to feed a picky, on that one." Shared the pally with the younger elf, mirthfully, appearing quite unaware (or, perhaps, politely ignoring?) the ill humor present. The look she gave the departing ones' back, however, held in it an altogether different set of emotions- regret, being but one of them.
[21:28] * MolotTheSemiAfk is now known as Molot
[21:28] -> *nickserv* identify dameon
[21:28] * Molot is now known as Margaret
[21:32] * Rilien was all but exclusively focused on Valorin for the time-being, managing only to spare her a disapproving frown. After a bit of quiet traipsing on the party's part however, she might catch a glimpse of him shooting a sorrowful glance in the bird's direction though; he seemed to feel badly for it.~
[21:33] <Valorin> Valorin waited around the bend, gray eyes looking back as the entourage rounded it as well. Smiling softly, he stood before an east facing cliff, the outlines of ancient, worn stone buildings limned with the blazing light of the risen sun. He was home. -Home-.
[21:35] <Margaret> It was funny, this group dynamic was. Rilien eyed the bird, while Molot eyed the proudly straightened back of the war god's foster-son. It may have been, that both were thinking a similar thing, but the gulf between rounded ears and ears pointy was too wide to hop.
Finally catching on to Riley's pointed expression, she offered him the reigns. "Got pasture of any sort out here?"
[21:39] * Rilien he looked to her hands and then up at her face in faint surprise... then his briefly innocent expression collapsed into bitter lines with a laugh that sounded more like a painful rasp; in fact, it might be hard to tell that he wasn't choking, to be honest. He concluded the abrupt grating with a sour smile, a contrast to the gentle manner in which he took the reigns. ~
[21:43] <Valorin> "Treat the bird well, Rilien. He has been a stalwart companion during our travels." He smiled, neglecting the avaricious hunger which the beast seemed to exhibit whenever food was around. Turning back to the city, he let out a sort of breathless sigh, body angling toward a massive, fortified round structure near the edge of the urban sprawl.
[21:47] <Margaret> Certainly, this young ma..elf had a lot on his mind. Almost as much as his older .. cousin? She continued to gaze in Valorin's general direction, noting the ancient architecture, rising ahead. "Do you require us for anything else, sir?"
[21:49] * Rilien approached the bird's head with caution, taking measured steps so as not to frighten it; he clearly had a good level of respect for what the creature might be capable of, but the respect seemed to run deeper than a fear of the hazardous beak and talons. If Rerun remained calm, he would stroke the bird's headfeathers gently and fall into step beside it. He gazed at Valorin's -
[21:52] * Disconnected
[21:52] * Attempting to rejoin channel #stuff
[21:52] * Rejoined channel #stuff
[21:56] <Valorin> "Ah..no." He shook his head, glancing back with a somewhat distracted look as his reverie was broken. "The temple lays yonder, Margaret. We can arrange for lodging and provisions for our stay there. For a temple of war, they can be quite hospitable."
[22:00] * Margaret is now known as Margaret|Spot
[22:01] <Margaret|Spot> The bird appeared calm-- perhaps, it was just too bloody TIRED to be anything but. Leaning its mighty neck to Rilien's level, it offered one side of its beak for further scratching. "Of course." Was the laconic reply. The doubts, the fears, the reassurances, these were worked out, bit by bit, through snatched snippets of conversation and odd bits of silence. Now, there remained little else to do but follow. And follow, she did.
[22:07] * Rilien seemed strikingly at peace with this arrangement, apparently content to continue scritching the weary but pleased humongous bird as he walked along a few paces to the side. Even so, it might be noted that he strayed very little from view of Valorin's person and kept his gaze fixated at his cousin's back more than anywhere else, ever a touch of adoration in his face. ~
[22:11] <Valorin> ((Call it at the arrival to the temple for the night? *is getting kind of unable to focus* Dx))
[22:12] <Margaret|Spot> Shore. :o))
[22:12] <Margaret|Spot> *licks an Id on the eye*
[22:12] <Margaret|Spot> Thanks for RP's, guys. :)
[22:12] <Valorin> :3
[22:13] * Margaret|Spot is now known as Spot
[22:14] <Rilien> ((Thank yoooou! <3
[22:14] <Valorin> <3

OOC: Just a little pick-me-up in terms of Kryz catchup.
--------------
[21:26] <Kryztal> Kryztal, a Lesser Velare dancer who happened to be preforming as shoppers passed by the stands, some staying to watch and even throwing zenny at her feet for her spectacular preformance. A dark skinned, rosey haired demoness usually made money off of dancing...It was nice, seeing as many people enjoyed it, and payed fairly well compared to her previous 'job'...~
[21:30] <Spot> Which made the sight of a crusader of Feirun, sitting on one of the abandoned stall-tops and licking his lips all the more.. ordinary, right? The fellow was quite handsome- blond-haired, blue-eyed devil of the sorts that made the most evil-minded serving wenches swoon from the sheer physical appeal. The question casually tossed from the wooden seat was far from everyday. "Find your sibling yet?~" Asked the man, narrowing those familiar <c>
[21:30] <Spot> pupilless sights.
[21:36] <Kryztal> Kryztal was not aware of the crusader watching her...but she was not ordinary dancer. As frail and weak as she may look, the girl had thorns as any lovely rose would. Her dancing would continue for a few more minutes until she bowed at the clapping spectators, waving at them as they came and went. "What a long day..." she picked up the zenny and stuffed the coins into her satched attached to <c>
[21:36] <Kryztal> her rosy pink scarf that was tied around her waist.~
[21:37] <Spot> Did she completely ignore his question? >>;))
[21:40] <Kryztal> Oh crap x-x;; I thought he was up on the roof to-- I'm sorry x-x;; I'll repost if you wish >_>))
[21:40] <Kryztal> ((Or answe in the next post.....;))
[21:41] <Spot> You know the tables for those covered kiosks? .. he was on one of those. ><; should've specified.))
[21:42] <Kryztal> ((x-x;; crap..sorry Mol ><; I need a little more detail or I'll sometimes make these mistakes @_@...))
[21:42] <Spot> Tis fine.))
[21:42] <Kryztal> >.< repost or are you going to work off of that?))
[21:44] <Spot> Just an additional line of conversation would be nice.))
[21:45] <Kryztal> Was spot the one who asked Kryztal about the sibling?? Just want to make sure x-x;;))
[21:45] <Spot> ... Yes.))
[21:47] <Kryztal> The dancer turned her head to the crusader with a questionable expression, "...Sibling?...Ah, are you speaking to me?" The question had her confused...perhaps the crusader had her confused with someone else?~
[21:48] <Spot> "A sister for a human-or-dancer, which was neither, really." The man grinned, widely, jumping off his perch to lean against the same, nonchalantly. "We remember some things, if not everything else. And you did dance well."
[21:52] <Kryztal> "Sister...--" Did this crusader know Methina...? Krzytal would raise a brow at him, her gaze turning a bit sharper as she walked closer to the male, "You...know my sister? And I don't remember ever seeing you around with the local crowd...With a face like yours, it would be hard for any man or woman to forget." She would quietly study his features, hoping she would recall this man at all...~
[21:54] <Spot> The features were alien- with exception of the symbols of the Wind-god, burnt into the skin, here and there. Wrist.. forehead. Arm. The blue eyes, though- they missed nothing, and seemed to strike at the very soul of the one staring into them. Unlike the rest of the expression, which contained good humor. -Too- good of humor. "The ship. The Scarlet Maiden. The unfinished journey. If there is such a thing. Is there?"
[21:59] <Kryztal> The man was very handsome, and the symbols etched into his body had Kryztal stairing at him for a couple of seconds before she lifted her head, tilting it a bit, a little confused with the crusader's way of speaking, "The Scarlet Maiden? I had never been on a ship before... I assume you were traveling on that very ship?"~
[22:02] <Spot> "Of course." The smile widened a bit, showing carnivorous-looking teeth. "The ship.. and the stories. Of the infernal plane, and the tiers within. Of the infernal lore, and a hundred minor spirits that blossomed in the shadow-steps of the Twins. Do you forget that easily, human-or-dancer?"
[22:06] <Kryztal> ...Something was bothering Kryztal. Her mind wandered as she thought about the lore of her kind--which she suddenly remembered that she did not know much...But how would this man know? "...I lived in the infernal planes as a small child, but the rest of my days are spent in this world. How would you know that I lack knowledge in my kind's lore?" She drew a bit closer, her arms crossed as <c>
[22:06] <Kryztal> she kept her sights on the handsome crusader. His good looks weren't distracting her as much as one would think.~
[22:08] <Spot> "We promised education." Explained the man, mindful of keeping his voice down-- for a few passers by have, indeed, looked at them somewhat askew at the menioning of the Twins. "Finished? No, the finish proved to be our own. But promises are to be kept, through and through. If fragmented promises a dancer would have?"
[22:13] <Kryztal> Kryztal's eyes grew a bit wider as he mentioned a promise from someone she knew... Her hands would fall limp, her stare almost blank... "You-- How the hell do you know about..." Her fists would tighten, but she kept her voice down, but the anxiety in her voice was clear, "You...How do you know Will...? And what do you mean by 'finished'?" This crusader...he knew a lot about Will and herself. <c>
[22:13] <Kryztal> And yet...there was a familiar, nostalgic feeling she felt deep inside. As if she already knew this man to begin with...~
[22:15] <Spot> "Shit happends." The explanation had a decisive ring of =-truth-= to it. "Due to circumstances outside our control, it occurs more often than it should. Now, =did= you want that tale of many otherworldly woes, or shall we disappear into the crowd until the time of further convenience?"
[22:18] <Kryztal> "I..." She glanced behind her shoulder, making sure there were no suspicious eyes on them. "Y-yes, of course, but I need you to answe me...Who are you? Why do you know of my promise with him...? I have all the time in the world to talk." Kryztal's heart was pounding as she anxiously awaited her answers.~
[22:22] <Kryztal> Answer**))
[22:24] <Spot> "Answers. How -we- would like some. Unfortunately, life's not that easy. Take guavas, for instance." Motioning for the dancer to follow along, the crusader set off at a leisurely pace, moving through the midday crowds as though they weren't even there. Perhaps for him, they were not. "Does one take a guava from a sworn enemy, even if it is offered in good spirits? We wouldn't take it, of course.. but the Worm does like his <c>
[22:24] <Spot> fruity bits, and we will be sorely tempted..."
[22:29] <Kryztal> Kryztal followed closely while the crusader spoke. She would figure out his metaphors with a bit of thought, "You were betrayed by your enemy in spite of their kindess and goodwill? Is that what happened to you...? But that doesn't explain how you know Will..." But a nagging feeling was telling Kryztal that she might have the answer to her own question already...but doubts lead <c>
[22:29] <Kryztal> her to continue questioning him...~
[22:31] <Spot> "No, no, no. Stick to the even notes, those suit your nail-color the finest." With a snort, he tossed back the messy mane, glancing back at her out of a corner of one eye. "-We- were the ones doing the betraying. That's why we clicked so well. The spot and I. The worm and I. Both with our own little goals~... and promises."
[22:37] <Kryztal> Kryztal raised a brow at the man, the tasteless joke was a bit displeasing to her, "...'We'. 'We' as in you and...?" So the Crusader was reffering to himself as two people for a reason...An alter ego or just a schizo? "Who is your other? And why the betraying?" Kryztal had her arms crossed again, her expression was so serious that any person who would lay eyes on her would think the velare <c>
[22:39] <Kryztal> would tear into them. "Forgive me, but this is all confusing...I have so many questions and so little answers..." Her countenance showed discouragement briefly as they walked.~
[22:42] <Spot> "Lack of satisfaction in one case, lack of choice in another. We saw things that were otherwise hidden from our view by the same gods we were taught to respect. Quite funny, really. Har. Har." Turning around, the guy began to actually walk backwards, keeping eye-contact with her.. and surprisingly, not bumping into anyone else just yet. "Ask less, accept more. We, as in we. Trust is paramount."
[22:47] <Kryztal> Kryztal blinked twice and stared at the crusader walking backwards... It was rather childish, especially for a crusader, but she didn't seem to be too bothered by his care-free nature. She followed him anyway. "Lack of satisfaction....Yes, there is plenty of that. It's a bit difficult to accept when I don't understand you as clearly as I should..." The crusader's balance and skill at walking <c>
[22:49] <Kryztal> backwards was amazing to Kryztal. The man had good dexterity... "Trust? Are you asking me to trust you? I would at least like to know your name-- your names..."~
[22:51] <Spot> Walkie, walkie, walkie... trip. Stumble. Regain-stability. "That's fine." He replied, lightly, turning to glare at the offending missing cobblestone. "Noone else seems to, either. As for trust, that's entirely up to you. We offer bedtime stories of your kith'n'kin. Will a dancer accept? Most choices -are- up to individuals. Especially the worst of all..."
[22:56] <Kryztal> "...." Kryztal held back a chuckle as the crusader finally managed to trip, stumble and quickly regain his balance. "You seem to know me well enough...But just in case, my name is Kryztal Gavriel. I won't be able to reffer to you as Mr. Crusader, you know..." Kryztal smiled softly as he mentioned bedtime stories. Nostalgia was hitting her rather hard. "I can't put my finger on it...but <c>
[22:58] <Kryztal> I believe I can put my trust into you, Sir. ...And bedtime stories...would be nice..." Her voice trailed off a bit as fragments of Will were playing through her mind non-stop.~
[23:03] <Spot> "A glow-worm seems to like the name Aves. Will works, too. Though neither are technically correct, and correctness is worth a lot in today's progressive world~!" With an uncharacteristic giggle, the crusader ducked behind a few conifers, trimming this section of the street. "Stories shall be gotten, and get the stories you shall~ Leave the window creaked open at night, hmm?"
[23:04] <Spot> And as simple as that, the guy was gone. T'was surprising how quietly something in full armor could move.. but then, again, maybe the armor didn't exist in anything but other peoples' minds, either?

OOC: One of the more 'blah' rp's 've ever been in.
-------------
[17:38] <Spot> Question #2. Who sets.))
[17:38] <Helios> (( I will. ))
[17:38] <Spot> <3))
[17:40] <Helios> :: And so, morning came...and went. Soon enough midday arrived, with the noon sun looming overhead in the heart of the Pronteran sky. The two unlikely guests at the inn decided to head out again to make more arrangements for supplies, as they would need a fair amount before leaving the city again. Wandering back into the market district, they weaved through the crowds and studied street shops<c>
[17:41] <Helios> for the time being. Helios, of course, was still wearing his silly cloak to hide himself from people who might know him otherwise. ::
[17:45] <Spot> And tailing him was the same odd personage with an out-of-date garb'n'expression, the (somewhat) less rusty spetum (with a mostly useless 'peace ribbon' tied across the blade)- propped on one shoulder. The spot was content, for the time being-- there was plenty of sights to see, plenty of new and unusual religions to scoff over, and plenty of maidens to leave swooning in its wake. The glow-worm seemed in high spirits, the sun <c>
[17:45] <Spot> was shining.. life was good.
[17:53] <Damiel> And elsewhere in the market was a certain brown-skinned, purple haired therian walking around in casual clothes, though his two curved blades were always at his side. In one hand he was carrying an empty basket, and the other hand was holding the palm-sized hand of a slightly less dark therian girl wearing a one-piece yellow dress. Of course, any bystander would see that the hand holding was necessary, as the girl always ran off aft
[17:53] <Damiel> er something that smell good, and would probably succeed in getting lost if it weren't for that hand.
[17:58] * Aurin is now known as Aurin|Dinner
[18:00] <Helios> :: Helios stood before a stand where a merchant was raving about his amazing papaya and how they somehow cured the sick, and made the old feel young again. The youth honestly doubted this was true, but the fruit looked nice enough. :: "You know, I've started to wonder just how mindless this part of the city is. I never used to venture over here..." :: He said in an aside to Spot. ::
[18:06] <Spot> "The goodness in the heart of the fruit is astounding. ... but how can one tell that it is a fruit, and not a vegetable?" Intoned the crusader solemnly to the startled vender, before pulling the priestling off towards more promising grounds... of fruits that were not filled with small, white, crunchable seeds. "Mindless? Only if one lets it get to ones' self. Oh, of course, there are alternatives." An odd passer-by in an equally <c>
[18:07] <Spot> concealing shrowd some ways behind them squeaked.. and toppled over. "Games, perhaps. Puzzles for the mind and the eye. And, speaking of eyes.. we spy with our own ones.. a kitty flapjack!"
[18:12] * Aurin|Dinner is now known as Aurin
[18:12] * Meda is now known as Miakoda
[18:12] * ChanServ sets mode: +o Miakoda
[18:13] <Helios> :: Noticing something fleeting out of the corner of his eye, he mostly didn't catch what Spot was saying as he wandered after it, muttering something like. :: "I'll be right back..."
[18:13] <Helios> (( Brb real fast-like. <3 Mum needs me. X3 Skip my posts while Heli's gone. ))
[18:14] <Damiel> The father and daughter pair stopped in front of a stand set up by a merchant from the Golden Isles, in which he (his wife was off on a break) hawked his wares, especially the prized fruit found only in his homeland: the apple of pines, and the 'coconut'. Damiel stared at the fruit, fascinated, before a bit of tugging by his little companion startled him out of his reverie. He picked the girl up and held her across the waist while s
[18:14] <Damiel> he reached out to the a somewhat brown and solid looking... big -nut- thing. She reached out to it, grabbing it with curiousity. A few words were exchanged between the pair in some foreign language, and Damiel chuckled. He reached out for the one that Akal chose and placed it in the basket. Then Akal reached over for some small, green fruit. "What's it called?" "It's a called a guava, my good sir! Only the finest!" "Hmmm... We'll ta
[18:14] <Damiel> ke eight of them." "Good choice, sir! THey're even fit to be gummed by your cute daughter!" "Thanks."
[18:19] <Spot> "Sure you will." Agreed the other easily enough, continuing to drift through the crowd without any apparent direction-- unless keeping two people in ones' sights counted as direction, or even 'directive positioning'. The flapjack seemed to have sprouted a smaller not-quite-flapjack in its general area.. studying the latter with more intent than it surely deserved, the spot wondered if it tasted goot with ketchup.
[18:22] * Spot is now known as MolotTheAfkish
[18:28] <Helios> (( Back. :D ))
[18:30] * Aurin is now known as Aurin|Dishes
[18:31] <Helios> :: Returning from the side-street, the cloaked youth looked around curiously, golding a tiny white kitten in his hands. Not seeing Spot anywhere, he frowned worriedly and started back out into the busy main street of the market, accidentally bumping into Damiel and his lil' bundle of joy on his way. :: "I wonder where he's gotten t--Ah! Pardon me..."
[18:32] <Damiel> And so currency was exchanged, and the little family moved on to other stalls. This time an Arni one, and Damiel bought quite a lot of ingredients, as well as some candy. Damiel gave Akal a small piece of flatbread, which she immediately stuck into her mouth and began to chew, purring in contentment. And then Damiel bumped into Helios! "Oh, no, it's fine... oh!" Damiel says with some surprise upon noticing the other's identity.
[18:34] <Helios> :: The priestling blinked. ...Just his luck, he supposed. Offering Damiel an awkward yet warm smile, he gave the Therian some space. :: "Good day, Sir Damiel..." :: The tiny kitten purred like rocks in a grinder as it flopped lazily in the radiant's arms, seeming content to be held. ::
[18:39] <Damiel> "Nice afternoon, isn't it?" *He asks in a friendly matter, smiling at his brother. He gazed closer at the kitten before smiling.* "Awww, how cute! What's its name?" The girl swallowed her bread, staring up at the man... before moving forward to hug his leg. "Guess Akal recognizes you, huh."
[18:39] <MolotTheAfkish> Ah. Another item that tasted well with sage and lemonbalm seasoning. Appearing from the depths of the unwashed masses, the spot peered over the Helios's shoulder at the white feline. And licked his chops. "Dinner?"
[18:40] * MolotTheAfkish is now known as Molot
[18:43] <Helios> :: Helios...couldn't help but visibly melt at little Akal glomping his leg. He had assisted in the little one's growth for a good portion of her first months in Rune, and he had always been rather fond of her. Smiling with furrowed ivory brows, he laughed softly. :: "Hello Lady Akal." :: The kitten mewed up at the person looming over Helios' shoulder,<c>
[18:43] <Helios> big green eyes wide and curious. Spot's comment caused Helios to frown uncertainly, realizing ...they were all in the same place. :: "Hello Lord Aves." :: To Damiel, he gestured. :: "This is Sir Damiel."
[18:46] <Damiel> *Upon spotting the man and recognizing him, Damiel forced a smile, reaching into his basket and pulling out a guava to hand to Helios's friend.* "Hey. Here's your dinner." *Damiel then gazed back over at the tiny kitten, reaching out with his free hand to pet it. He called outin a foreign language and Akal nodded somewhat hesitantly.* "Ma....maha...." *She began to greet Helios nervously* "mahaban..."
[18:48] <Molot> "Hello, flapjack." A glass-eating grin was offered to Damiel, along with a suspicious glance at the squishy green thing in his hand. "Hello, second course." That, to Akal.
[18:49] * Mia[Out] has joined #twilight_rp
[18:50] <Helios> "Lord Aves." :: Helios muttered, scoldingly. Obviously irritated. The kitten purred loudly, rubbing its head against Damiel's hand. :: "...Well, as...dear to me as it is to see the lovely Akal again, I suppose we should be going..." :: The priestling added, awkwardly, glancing between Spot and Damiel. ::
[18:51] * Miakoda has quit IRC (Ping timeout)
[18:53] <Damiel> "You sure? Lady Luci and everyone else at the church would be glad to see you.... I mean, you -were- traveling for a long while, so a small rest wouldn't be bad." *Damiel smiles, holding the guava out to Aves once more.* "Just take it. It isn't poisoned or anything." *He beckons Akal over in Arni, and she reluctantly obeys.*
[18:55] <Molot> "But to do so would compromise the wonderful state of hostility that the ever-dying kitty's got going!" Shrugging apologetically to Helios, he turned to go.
[18:55] * Mia[Out] is now known as Miakoda
[18:55] * ChanServ sets mode: +o Miakoda
[18:55] * Saku is now known as Saku|Cleaning
[18:58] <Helios> "..." :: Helios frowned tiredly at Spot's words, then watched Akal return to her father. He gave her a gentle twidle of the fingers sort of wave with a rueful smile, before he offered the kitten to Damiel. :: "I just found this little one out on the street. Perhaps you can offer it a better home than I..." :: He said softly, crystalline gaze weary. ::
[18:58] <Helios> (( twiddle* ))
[19:00] <Damiel> Akal returned the twiddle with her own fingers, though of course it was a nervous one. She clung to her father's pants with one hand, and mewed. Damiel took the kitten and cradled it tightly against his chest. "I think you need a kitten of your own to keep you grounded...." *He gazed over at the man's back.* "... I don't know what his problem is, but I don't like it. Don't let him hurt you. We all miss you. Can't you stay for a whil
[19:00] <Damiel> e? I got a book you might like."
[19:01] * Kestrel is now known as Kes[Kings]
[19:01] * Molot remained soundless, drifting about in the 30-or-so foot radius.
[19:03] <Helios> "...I really shouldn't. I really do miss all of you, but..." :: He trailed off, his sights slowly averting off to one side with something akin to a troubled-expression. :: "...I'm sorry, Sir Damiel."
[19:06] * Miakoda is now known as Gwen
[19:08] <Damiel> "I know I've been.... a bad person." *Damiel says, gazing down at Akal. He hands Helios the guava.* "... but trust me when I say I'm worried about you." *He shrugs.* "... Why doesn't he like me, anyways?"
[19:09] <Gwen> Into the market would walk Gwen! She was napping when the two left but was told where they were headed by Mrs. Pottersworth, so she went to catch up. She looked a little bit more on the chubby side... someone was eating a bit? Or had quintuplets in her tummy. Either way. She'd be distracted before seeing anyone by some fruit... mmmMmm!
[19:10] <Molot> "We tend to dislike anyone who prefers electricity to charcoal in their methods of grilling." Intoned the spot, whose wanderings have once again taken it to the radiants' side. "What book is that, anyway?"
[19:10] <Helios> "No, Sir Damiel. Your heart has always been in the right place." :: Delicate hands emerged from beneath the cloak to receive the offered item, drawing it back to his body absently. :: "Your choices may be questionable sometimes, but your motives are not." :: Spot's words shut Helios up quick enough, however, and he look away again. ::
[19:12] <Helios> (( looked* ))
[19:13] <Damiel> "Don't use electricity, though. More of an open flame myself. And it's called 'Montanna James and the Scepter of Flame'. Seemed like something Helios would like." *He glances away to follow Akal as she takes off from her spot grabbing his pants to her mother. She would, of course, try to hug her tightly. With relief, Damiel waved to Gwen, then turned back to Helios.* "Then you know my words are true, this time around."
[19:16] <Gwen> Gwen would look down when Akal started running towards her and scoop her up, giving the little girl big smooshy kisses on her cheek. Her eyes would fall on Damiel and she'd smile and wave, but then she'd notice who he was talking to and -freak,- rushing over to give Helios a big one armed hug. "Helios! Helios you're back in town! I'm so glad you're here! Come over for dinner, I'll <c>
[19:16] <Gwen> cook you dinner! Who's your friend?!" A one handed shake to the stranger whether he liked it or not. "Bring your friend! I'll cook!"
[19:17] <Molot> "We think we'd know the difference. And.. ah! The un-blighted -spreads-." The spot eyed Gwen up. And down. And up again. "Or generates a third course. Do Midgardian meals come with three courses, or is it just two, and the sweets?.. No matter.."
[19:19] <Helios> :: Helios was about to reply to Damiel when Gwen came bounding up and squeezed him tightly in a one-armed embrace. Releasing a mild squeak of alarm, he managed a tired yet warm smile at Gwen before glancing back at Spot due to his words. :: "It's...wonderful to see you again, Lady Gwendolyn." :: He said, nevertheless, returning his attention to her. ::
[19:21] <Damiel> "... the only one who'll 'eat' my wife is me." *Damiel says without shame.* "And you two should definitely come over. We can have a whole feast. Also..." *Damiel leans in toward Helios, whispering.* "... if you ever see Maeglin when you leave, could you tie him up and mail him to me?"
[19:22] <Helios> :: Helios... blinked. ::
[19:23] <Gwen> Gwen would blush and clear her throat, handing Akal to Damiel and give her belly a rub before starting to wander. "I'll uhh- just get some groceries to make! I hope you all don't mind vegitarian... I'll swell up like a balloon even moreso if I touch the stuff..." And she was already picking out veggies for the soup.
[19:24] <Molot> "We wonder why we even bother. Most of the time."
[19:26] * Damiel takes Akal with some difficulty, and even as a radiant he would find trouble carrying a kitten, a second, much larger kitten, and a basket full of groceries. He then fixes the issue by placing Akal on his shoulder, and she grabs onto his hair for support.* "So, what're we waiting for? Let's go." *He says, moving to follow Gwen around after motioning for the two to follow.*
[19:27] <Helios> :: Helios...looked back at Spot, questioningly. ::
[19:27] <Gwen> She wasn't going to be taking no for an answer... and she'd turn around and just notice that Damiel held so much including... eh? Ohh well, she was getting groceries. "Wish you were back sooner! You could have come to Comodo with us. We had a great time!"
[19:29] <Molot> And the spot looked back, quirking both brows. Was this the ones they were looking for? The glance seemed to ask. Or was this another time-sink?
[19:29] <Helios> "I'm glad you both have been doing well." :: Inwardly, he congratulated himself for initially leaving Prontera. It was the right choice, apparently! His attention was then returned to Spot, muttering something. ::
[19:33] <Helios> "...Well, ...Lady Gwendolyn--" :: He began, after turning away from Spot with a look of embarrassment. :: "I...I'm afraid our evening together may have to wait..."
[19:33] <Damiel> "Comodo was pretty fun. Would've liked to have had you take care of Akal while Gwen and I danced... Ah well~" *Damiel says, getting ready to carry whatever Gwen picks up.* "Why?"
[19:36] <Gwen> "Don't be silly! You're here, you're probably hungry, so I'm making you food!" She'd keep filling a basket up with all sorts of
[19:27] <Gwen> She wasn't going to be taking no for an answer... and she'd turn around and just notice that Damiel held so much including... eh? Ohh well, she was getting groceries. "Wish you were back sooner! You could have come to Comodo with us. We had a great time!"
[19:29] <Molot> And the spot looked back, quirking both brows. Was this the ones they were looking for? The glance seemed to ask. Or was this another time-sink?
[19:29] <Helios> "I'm glad you both have been doing well." :: Inwardly, he congratulated himself for initially leaving Prontera. It was the right choice, apparently! His attention was then returned to Spot, muttering something. ::
[19:33] <Helios> "...Well, ...Lady Gwendolyn--" :: He began, after turning away from Spot with a look of embarrassment. :: "I...I'm afraid our evening together may have to wait..."
[19:33] <Damiel> "Comodo was pretty fun. Would've liked to have had you take care of Akal while Gwen and I danced... Ah well~" *Damiel says, getting ready to carry whatever Gwen picks up.* "Why?"
[19:36] <Gwen> "Don't be silly! You're here, you're probably hungry, so I'm making you food!" She'd keep filling a basket up with all sorts of goodies.
[19:38] * Aurin|Dishes is now known as Aurin
[19:38] <Helios> "Lord Aves and I must depart as soon as possible, as much as I hate to admit this is so. We have business to tend to outside the city, and a lot of ground to cover..." :: Explained the youth tentatively, lowering the hood of his cloak as he followed Gwen. ::
[19:39] <Molot> "Besides, we wouldn't dare infringe on happy family occasion such as your own." There was definitely something of a pike, or perhaps a murray eel in that smile.
[19:40] <Damiel> "Pleaaaase. Unless there's a fire outside the city that only you guys can put out, it can wait."
[19:41] <Molot> "We can -make- a fire, if needs be?"
[19:41] <Gwen> "Listen..." Gwen would turn around and reach out to put her hand on Helios's arm, giving him a little smile. "A few hours won't kill you, right?" She'd try and give a little pleading look, hand giving his arm a little friendly squeeze. "It's just dinner..."
[19:43] <Helios> :: Staring back at Gwen, his eyes lingered on hers as she spared him her pleading glance. There was uncertainty in his vision, but his readied protest was abruptly silenced upon the casting of her sight upon him. He only shut his mouth and gave her a slight nod. ::
[19:43] <Damiel> "Anyone can put it out, though." *Damiel countered with a chuckle, smilng at Helios finally breaking down~*
[19:44] <Molot> Muttering some one-word opinion, the spot fell in behind the little group. "Depends on what burns."
[19:44] * Saku|Cleaning is now known as Saku
[19:46] * Saku is now known as Saku|Store
[19:47] <Helios> :: Helios could only follow Gwen in silence, visibly distraught. ::
[19:52] <Gwen> Gwen would keep glancing at Helios and then at the others, taking some eggs and other things from the market here and there, paying for it accordingly. She'd eye the friend. "You never introduced yourself..."
[19:52] <Helios> "This is Lord Aves. Lord Aves, Lady Gwendolyn." :: Helios interjected, before Spot could say anything else disturbing. ::
[19:53] <Molot> "My tongue, the wench. The wench? My tongue." Placidly added the crusader, gesturing to and from Helios and Gwendolyn. "
[19:53] <Molot> Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
[19:55] <Gwen> "... Did you just call me a wench?" She'd look away from the stranger to Helios with a quirked brow in a, 'are you kidding me' manner.
[19:55] <Helios> :: Helios just...stared at his feet. >_<; ::
[19:55] <Molot> "No m'am!" Piped up the spot, cheerfully.
[19:56] * Damiel has quit IRC (Ping timeout)
[19:56] * Kes[Kings] is now known as Kestrel
[19:56] <Gwen> ((*Waits for Damiel*))
[20:01] * Milly has joined #twilight_rp
[20:01] <Milly> ((Can I get a repost of the last two or three posts?))
[20:01] <Milly> (Nevermind.)
[20:01] <Helios> (( Did. ))
[20:02] * Milly visibly -twitched-, turning toward the Spot, then to Helios, as if asking the waif for permission to kick his ass....*
[20:03] <Helios> :: Risking a glance up at Damiel, he shook his head a little. ::
[20:03] * Molot was whistling a tune.. something with 'yankee' in it. Oblivious? Hell yes.
[20:05] * Damasco is now known as Damasco|Dur
[20:07] <Gwen> Gwen would blink a few times and turn to go back to grabbing food. But she'd shove it at Damiel along with everything else he was holding and look to Helios with a smile. "Erm- can I talk to you a second?"
[20:08] <Helios> :: Helios bit his lip and nodded, rubbing an arm awkwardly. ::
[20:09] * Milly is now known as damiel
[20:09] * damiel is now known as Damiel
[20:10] * Damiel sets Akal down with some difficulty, handing the cat and speaking to her in Arni about something or other. He then handed the kitten to her and Akal held it close to her chest, nodding at her father's words. Damiel then shifted the basket with an ever-increasing load so it wouldn't break.*
[20:11] <Helios> :: And so, he followed Gwen obediantly, sparing an uneasy look back at Spot as he did so. ::
[20:11] * Molot took a particular interest in a sewer grate.. which just happened to have been within an earshot of the conversation Gwen and Helios were presumably holding.
[20:12] * Damiel uses Spot's back to rest the basket full of fruits and vegetables and all sorts of non-meat animal products and such.* "So, how long were you in that desert?"
[20:13] <Gwen> Gwen would take Helios by the arm and lead him away from the two and lean in to whisper into his ear.
[20:14] <Molot> Alas, human ears had nothing on velare ones. Oh, wait... "Not sure." He replied, lightly, not seeming to mind being just another item-resting-location. "The crickets seem to disagree. Why?"
[20:15] <Helios> :: He quietly replied, off where he and the woman stood. ::
[20:15] <Gwen> Gwen didn't look pleased... and she'd whisper whisper again.
[20:15] <Damiel> "Just curious how long Helios has had to suffer being with you. Also, you really need to see a healer. Or at least a good herbalist."
[20:17] <Molot> "You'd be surprised." Those teeth looked -carnivorous-. "To the contrary, the best one there is is just twelve feet.. that-a-way. Not to be stolen, and not to be borrowed. Ever. Again.~"
[20:18] <Helios> :: Helios' shoulders rose as he glanced up at Gwen off where they whispered, eyes pleading. ::
[20:19] <Gwen> Gwen would frown, still not looking too happy.
[20:20] <Damiel> "Whatever you say. But he's not that good if you still stink...."
[20:21] <Helios> :: Helios cast his sights down again, looking crestfallen. ::
[20:23] <Gwen> Whisper whisper.
[20:24] <Molot> "Are you always this rude, or is this just something against people with horns?"
[20:25] <Damiel> "You were the one who has the problem with me, after I simply offered you a guava for your hunger. Now stop trying to peep on them."
[20:29] <Gwen> Gwen would whisper her last bit to Helios, looking none too pleased. Maybe a bit angry at the last bit... and start to walk back to the other two, putting on her best smile. "Babies are hungry, let's go eat."
[20:30] <Helios> :: Helios remained where they had been standing, not returning when Gwen did. He looked like he was about to cry. Instead, he turned and wandered off into the suffocating crowds of mainstreet. ::
[20:30] <Damiel> "Huzzah!" Damiel says, removing the basket from the man's back, and starts to lead the way back! Akal goes up to Gwen and reaches out for her hand, holding the kitten in the other arm close to her chest.
[20:31] <Damiel> ".... Where's he going?"
[20:32] <Gwen> Gwen would reach out to grab Akal and everything else from Damiel. "Go find out."
[20:34] <Molot> Having thrown one of those "A wench will always be a wench" looks in Gwendolyn's general direction, the spot departed quite abruptly, catching up with the waifish form in a matter of seconds. And inquiring of something, with an expression that said "murder-maybe?".
[20:35] <Damiel> "Uh... Alright. I'll catch up soon!" *He says to Gwen with a smile, waving bye to the daughter.* "Make sure the kitten's treated well until we can get her a new home." *And so Damiel was off, attempting to catch up to the other two men soon enough.*
[20:36] <Gwen> And Gwen was left with a kid, cat, four bags of groceries and five buns in teh oven. This was going to be an interesting walk home...
[20:36] <Helios> :: Helios continued to walk at a hurried pace, visibly upset. :: "I need to be alone. Please." :: He uttered amidst the hum of the crowds. ::
[20:39] * Saku|Store is now known as Saku
[20:40] <Molot> Nodding once, the other fell further back, nearly colliding with the radiant of Shamash, as he elbowed his way towards the goal. An arm was extended to bar the way of the radiant in question, along with a simple "Nope~".
[20:41] <Damiel> ".... Be sure to show up for dinner! We'll have a spot open for you!" *Damiel called out over the obstacle of the arm. Then he reached out to grab it and, if successful, would tug the man over to follow Gwen.* "-You'll- be helping for dinner."
[20:43] <Gwen> Gwen would be still standing in the same spot with two bags over each arm, a child sitting on her shoulders and a cat sitting on her head, held there by the child. "Akal can you help mommy carry bags or -must- you sit up there?" "Imma sittin' heeeeeeeere!" "... kay."
20:45] <Helios> :: The cloaked waif was gone in a matter of seconds, lost to the flowing sea of people in the city. ::
[20:45] * Saku is now known as Saku|Gundam
[20:45] <Molot> The arm was grabbed and the tug-executed, to little avail. "Time." The grin persisted- at least on the lower part of the fellow's face. The pupil-less blue sights remained unimpressed. "Best present a guy could give another. Now if you'll excuse us, we'll go make sure that the glow-worm doesn't go and get himself into an ocean of trouble.~ Discreetly? Oh, yes."
[20:48] <Damiel> "Hm? Us? Sure, after we get our stuff home. It's rude to leave a lady waiting...." *He tugs a bit harder on the other's arm.* "Someone has to teach you manners anyways."
[20:50] <Gwen> "For a twopiece I'll carry your bags!" Gwen would look down at the little boy that offered to help. Phew! She'd smile and nod, -gladly- handing two of them over. "Those light enough for you?" The boy practically fell over. "... nevermind, lady." Sigh.
[20:51] * Helios is now known as Enkidu
[20:51] * Loke has joined #twilight_rp
[20:52] <Enkidu> :: The spry Therian fellow jogged up from behind Gwen, looking a bit winded. He had run from the other side of...the city, after finding that the family had gone out. And WITHOUT him there to help! Sheesh! Arriving, he smiled big, per usual, jutting out his arms to take her bags. :: "I--*pant* beings...here!"
[20:53] <Molot> "Either your carpals go, or you do~" Purred the spot, peering into Damiel's face with that disgustingly -cheerful- expression. "Bye, now."
[20:54] <Damiel> "Fiiiine. No dinner for you, jackass." *Damiel bit his thumb at the man and then headed off to rendeavous(?) with the others.* "Oh, hey Enkidu! Did you just run over from the other side of the city again?"
[20:55] <Molot> And that was that, as the spot hurried off to.. greener pastures. Or some such nonsense.
[20:55] <Enkidu> "Hahaha! Yah!" :: What a doofus. He hefted up Gwen's bags with ease, grinning from ear to fuzzy ear. ::
[20:56] <Gwen> Gwen would look relieved as Enkidu ran up to her, gladly handing the bags over. "Thank yooooooou." She'd look to Damiel and quirk a brow. "Didn't catch him?"
[20:57] <Damiel> "Good~! Do it enough times, and you'll almost catch me in terms of stamina!' *Damiel gave Enkidu a grin and cheesy thumbs up.* "He wanted to be alone, and his royal jackass of a friend is going to spy on him." *He shrugs.*
[20:58] <Enkidu> "What beings going on?" :: Inquired the foreign kitty, looking between Damiel and Gwen. :: "Yous makings friend?"
[21:00] <Gwen> "Old friend." A pause. "An old friend that forgets things it seems. ... or is just realized he's a hypocrite. But a friend, yes." She'd walk, reaching up to hold Akal on her shoulders as she started to walk back to the house.
[21:01] <Damiel> "Yeah. It's nothing to worry about." *He smiles, following after Gwen for a moment before....* "...  hey, Enkidu?"
[21:02] <Enkidu> "Yah?" :: He blinked, looking to Damiel from Gwen, arms full of the bags. ::

<Rika> With some luck, the scary, scary man actually allowed her to go back to pick up the few meager belongings.. and that is exactly what acolyte did, gathering the two extra changes of clothing, the crate (which seemed to have been repaired -and- refilled with supplies), and even an exceptionally spiky mace+buckler. Having collected the articles, she managed to explain to the old retainer that  <c>
<Rika> her cousin from out of town was in, two of her relations were killed by a fallen tree, and she -had- to attend the funeral... And thusly, they have departed. Without any additional words on Rika's part.
<Jeremiah> The great beast, Caliban lumbered along, carrying the supplies, Jeremiah walking alongside him, placing a comforting hand on the beast's haunches. "Tell me, Child Rika." The man cleared his throat, not turning to look at her. "Do you thank the Gods for your current situation?"
<Rika> "No." Was the sort, barely civil reply. The girl was presently playing "Spot the poisonous roadside plant" game, while thinking fast on how to get some of the already-seen ones, without the lunatic noticing. "Why do you call me a child, anyway."
<Jeremiah> "For you are one." The man walked along, not turning to look. "Is your faith as strong now as it was when we first met child? Do you still Slave away without thinking, Refusing the truth from entering your thoughts? I know you fear me child, but you will come to realize I am your greatest friend."
<Rika> She merely glowered at such statement, proceeding to chose her words carefully to reply to the latter comments. "My faith is strong enough. I still do what is required of me by the Goddess and by my conscience. Help people, who need it. And what have -you- done with your life, since we last 'spoke'?"
<Jeremiah> "I Saved my childs life." There was a ring of Fire to his voice, the anger he had not let himself show earlier while they were in town. "I stood face to Face with a creature of the gods, I knelt before him, and with my own blood i signed my name to his paper."
<Rika> "Which gods were these?" There was curiosity split with ever-present fear in that voice.
<Rika> Brbness, need to shower real quick>)))
<Jeremiah> "Anachel."
<Rika> Oh. Shit. "..Why not someone on -good- side of the spectrum?" She wondered aloud, faintly.
<Jeremiah> "I would not have My children live without a father, ever a shell of one."
<Rika> "... What's that supposed to mean?"
<Jeremiah> "I had no choices child. and no time. Anachel freed me from you lovely little cell, and i returned home to a dying child. Had i left, running for hlp from the church i would have been killed, and My child with me."
<Rika> "..That's so like a god of darkness.." It was actually kind of funny, listening to this young acolyte characterise the divine in such a know-it-all tone. "Put someone into a no-choice situation, and stick himself in the middle.."
<Jeremiah> A Hand streaked backwards, fullforce, flying for Rikas Face with more than enough force to knock her from her feet.
<Rika> The hand's more than accomplished its goal- the small body was almost tossed backwards, where it landed with a squeak, and promptly curled up without further noise, attempting to protect its vitals. He's taught her well enough.
<Jeremiah> "Do i need to remind you -why- my child was dying?" he stood above her, hands curled into fists, his entire body hunched and tense. there was -hatred- in his voice.
<Rika> There was a wordless movement, not unlike shaking of the head that was pulled way into the shoulders. Sure. It was her fault. Supposedly. Nevermind that the guy was a walking atrocity and deathwish waiting to happen.
<Jeremiah> "Listen well child, It was by -your- gods, the ones you deem -good- that my child was harmed, and that blood falls on your hands. It was by the dark ones that he lives to this day, that he laughs and cry and burbles. It is by there hand that he has called me 'papa'. I Have paid, and though it is painful to me, and i disapprove of how they have controlled their flock, but they have returned...
<Jeremiah> ...my world to me. I serve, and I do so without question." he breathed heavily and walked away. "Get up. we have more distance to travel."
<Manna> More wordlessness, on her part. And more walking.

OOC: Spot and Helios trying to work out the entire 'multiple personality disorder'. And failing.
-----------


<Dove> Helios: .~.
<MolotThePresentationing> Spot: *Looks up from the whetstone and a liberal pile'o'rust on the floor* "?"
<Dove> "I don't know what to do." :: He said meekly, curled up in the bed of their inn room. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> Spot: *Returned to the failsome attempts of making the weapon appear to be something more than a thing of junk* "Observe the crowds. Find things that do not belong. Stab them. Simple enough, no?"
<Dove> "I want to save the world, as I was destined to do! Not...run around doing the job of city guardsmen." :: He rolled over in bed, covering his head with a pillow. Pouting. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> Spot: *Scrape. Scrape. Scraaaape.* "Swaying back and worth between the extremes of total anarchy and total chaos. That is what a guardless society is. Got to start somewhere, morsel."
<Dove> "Besides, I'm no knight in shining armor. How can -I- stop a shoplifter or a drunkard?" :: He countered, voice muffled by the pillow. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> Spot: *Raises an eyebrow at the flaking material under his fingertips.* "Fry them."
<Dove> "That is...excessive force." :: Helios corrected. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> Spot: "One uses what one has, when one needs, for any reason. No lasting peace was built on puppies and daisy chains."
<Dove> "Besides, I'll get in trouble for trying to be some sort of...vigilante. I don't want the church to find out I'm here. There must be something else we can do..."
<MolotThePresentationing> "Why?" Dropping the antique weapon as a lost cause, the crusader pulled out a lengthy bit of twine and began fiddling with it. "Go to another city, then. Another country. Another world. Or look another cleric in the eye, and find the courage to spit in it."
<Dove> "You're not making sense again." :: The waif noted into the fluff of the pillow, lying there all...lazy and cute. :: "You know, there are bound to be more radiants out there...looking for good people to join their cause."
<MolotThePresentationing> "Probably." Agreed the other man, still pulling bits of string this way and that across his knuckles. A sort of a pattern was beginning to take shape. "Are they as bright as this glow-worm? As -easy to spot-?"
<Dove> "I...don't know! But perhaps if I could find...just one, then we could join together, and become a team! Then we'll have some better strength to make use of for saving the world!" :: He tugged the pillow off his face, hugging it thoughtfully. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "Could. Should. Maybe even will. Ask your maker, she'll know." He frowned at the criss-crossing of string, wrapped around his fingers. Here and there.. loop upon loop. "Hey. Come here."
<Dove> :: Glancing over, he blinked before sitting up and setting the pillow aside. He then stood and made his way over to the crusader, crouching to look at what he was doing with the string. :: "What?"
* MolotThePresentationing offered the priestling a pair of hands, tangled in the twine. The pattern seemed nonsensical, a mess of loops without order or reason. "Take the two very top ones, and pull them over my thumbs, will you?"
<Dove> "Okay." :: He said with a mild smile, doing as his friend requested, delicate fingers moving with care. :: "What is it?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "There's a moral in here, somewhere." Shedding two additional loops from his index fingers, the other pulled the mess taunt, opening up a helix-like pattern.. "'cept we can't remember what it is."
<Dove> :: Helios giggled somewhat, studying the pattern it made. :: "How about...even crazy people can make interesting things. That, and you're a sillyface." :: He reached up to poke the crusader on the nose. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "No, that's not it." He frowned at the poke, appearing a bit too somber for the time of the day..or, hell, century. With a flick of a wrist, the pattern was gone, reduced to a pile of string which the spot stretched out into a single loop. "It's complex, then it's not. And there's no knots. Don't you see?"
<Dove> :: He glanced from the now simple loop up to the crusader's sights quietly, expression earnest and still a little light-hearted, as if seeking to draw a smile out of the larger figure. :: "I do."
<MolotThePresentationing> The gaze was returned without the excess mirth, which seemed to be the trademark of this particular abomination. "There is a moral." He insisted, putting the twine aside. "Searching for another radiant, avoiding the cross-bearers, hiding in this ..hole. These are all criss-crosses. Corners that do not need to be bent."
<Dove> "But I'm not strong enough to simply...cut to the chase. I cannot do things on my own, as much as I want to. My will alone cannot do the things that heroes do. I am small, and my task is big. Does it not make sense to find others like me, and make the job we all share that little bit easier...for all of us?" :: The youth said, his faint smile fading at the other's refusal to return it. :: "I'm<c>
<Dove> not doing Rune any favors trying to move mountains by myself."
<MolotThePresentationing> "Cannot. What a -funny- word." There was no humor in the slits of blue-- only gravity; and perhaps the realization of the fact that no matter what they did, they were doomed in the long run. "Awesome run, life. Rewind, repeat. We'll find you your radiants, then. You will see that they are not you, and never could be." He stood and stretched, cracking a joint or three. "And then we'll find a cliff.."
<Dove> "Surely they want the same things as I do." :: Helios countered softly, glancing over toward where the light of morning filtered into the inn room. He calmly approached the window, leaning against the sill and studying the familiar shameless blue of the sky. :: "Peace and harmony..."
<MolotThePresentationing> "They want to do the will of their gods." Contradicted the priests' companion, squinting into the invasive brightness. "But to question the motivations of powers above, glow-worm.. Even we dare not. Not while standing on that precarious line between the past and the future."
<Dove> "It's been a long time..." :: Words not meant for any pair of ears in particular, other than perhaps otherworldly ones, spoken on a wistful lilt of the melodic voice belonging to the radiant. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "Since.?" The question came from a foot or two back-- the ex-radiant peered over Helios's shoulder into the streets below with an expression not unlike that of a very bored feline. "Questioning?"
<Dove> "Singing good morning." :: Came the gentle reply, a fondness glistening in crystalline eyes as they refracted shards of the morning light therein. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> In the fragmented mind, somewhere between mismatched memories of high-altitude winds and lava-lit tunnels, a pit speared with light and filled with echoes came into a focus. In the small room of the inn, the following silence was broken by a sigh.
<Dove> :: The sigh drew the priestling's attention, glancing back over his shoulder at the taller figure. :: "Hmm?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "It wouldn't bring peace to the world." An arm, wrapped around a small shoulder-- presumtuous? Oh, yes. When was it not. "But some routines are worth keeping up."
<Dove> :: He smiled somewhat, leaning back against the larger figure thoughtfully. :: "My city shouldn't know I'm home just yet." :: And, after a short time. :: "But I can sing good morning to you instead."
<MolotThePresentationing> "Yes." Agreed the entity called spot, resting his chin on the others' head. Of that state of affairs, it, he, they fully approved. Much more than of the possibly futile quest for more like-minded radiants. "Good morning. And maybe good night."
<Dove> :: He stifled a laugh with a warm smile and a bit of air, thinking to himself. :: "I won't sing all day, you." :: Eyes peered upward, though he couldn't really see the chin that rested there. :: "As much as you'd probably like it to be so."
<MolotThePresentationing> "We'll settle for a single performance on both occasions, then.." The pointed jab of an index finger into the little ones' ribcage followed. "And maybe a belated lunch thereafter. Not rats alamode this time, though."
<Dove> "Very well." :: The youth complied, taking a long moment to gaze out the window as they were for the time being. A lot to take in, and a lot on his mind. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "Wonder what happened to the Following." He murmured after a while. Light travelled, slowly creeping down the floor behind them, making for a strangely warped shadow of the pair. "There used to be His sigils on every street corner, hardly an hour passed without some rowdy group of the devout picking a fight with some other fraction. Now it's crosses this, crosses that.."
<Dove> "Aves." :: Chimed in the small one. :: "Will you tell me about the past?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "It was bright. And glorious." A snort, from the loony one-- and another arm, coming to join the first one, though in opposite direction. "Just like tomorrow."
<Dove> "Do you miss it at all?" :: Inquired the priestling softly, watching a cloud make its sluggish way across the early morning sky. :: "Any part of it?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "Yes. To look back is to look through a broken window, which has been repaired with lead, and heat, and glass of different color." A moments' pause. "But, no. Living it was pointy, and sentimentality does little to smooth the sharp edges." He thought for a while, eyes- still downcast onto the street and its traffic. "To fight again, and to know that your back is covered. <c>
<MolotThePresentationing> We should like that. -You- should like that, broken-wings. Was there a you before this you?"
<Dove> "What do you mean?" :: Just to make sure he had a reason to be confused, he ventured to ask further for elaboration. :: "I am not possessed by an Archdemon, or anything of the sort, like you..."
<MolotThePresentationing> "Reincarnations. They are as common as acorns, if one is to look hard enough." A hand reluctantly left its spot on the priests' shoulder, to point at the figures below. "They were all someones, once. Most were. Maybe. Probably serfs, though. What were you?"
<Dove> "I am a very young soul." :: Replied the priestling carefully. :: "The Mother created me, and left me on the Parish of Prontera's doorstep. There was no me before me. Only this, and only myself. An old priest used to tell me that this is why my heart is so light, because it is not weighed down with past grief." :: A pause. :: "Though I have still endured my own, and I find myself mostly the<c>
<Dove> same."
<MolotThePresentationing> "A lamb grown to slaughter, a shard of a whole~" Purred the human, still studying the moving figures below. "Who was your Father, little worm? Your ciblings? Did they step in to lighten your load?~ Will they, without your knowledge?~"
<Dove> "My father, if knowledge of the Midgardian pantheon holds true, is the ancient and wise Theryn. For he is the husband of the Mother." :: Explained Helios, voice hushed. :: "And I suppose I will never know my siblings unless I search for them."
<MolotThePresentationing> "Oh, that old fraud." The chin over Helios's head moved somewhat; the crusader was smiling again. And, in a sing-song tone: "Daddy-o, you've got the swagger of a champion; too bad for you-- just can't find the right companion, I guess when you have one too many, makes it hard, it could be easy, who you are, that's just who you are, baby..~"
<Dove> "...Um." :: He glanced up, smiling bemusedly. :: "What are you going on about now?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "According to the ancient and impeccable lore of my Order, he sleeps around." Replied the crusader, gravely.
<MolotThePresentationing> "BUT! Don't let that distract you from your ancient and noble history, o morsel."
<Dove> "Mother wouldn't like you spreading such stories." :: The priestling tsked, wagging a finger up at the chin resting on his head. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "She should've thought twice before sha...Ehm." The previously pointed hand was returned to its due place on the priestling's shoulder. "Just saying. Things are not what they seem. Take Father of Winds, for instance.. they used to portray him as a frivolous, absent-minded youth. -Little did they know-. >D"
<Dove> "What, he wasn't?" :: Helios sounded...amused. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> The waif could feel the figure he was leaning against shudder a bit. "Nope. He was a handsome son of a bitch with a short temper, and an acid-dripping sword for a tongue. Very violent and free with the use of his opinions, to boot. ... .... .... ... or so we've heard."
<Dove> "You never met him yourself?" :: Yet another question. Intriguing, learning of the man's strange, warped history. Spoken on lips aged through the horrors of chaos and survival in Thanatos tower. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "Me? Meet a -god-? Who do you take me for, some sort of a -high priest-?" Another poke at the waif's side, although a somewhat gentler one. "No, never. Probably. Maybe alongside a hundred or thirty-some others. When the gates were sealed, and our faith in light- broken."
<Dove> "Never lose faith." :: He shifted, turning to face the taller figure, gazing at into the looming sights of the crusdaer sincerely. :: "Losing faith is losing sight of your heart." :: He said, gingerly resting a hand on the man's chest where his heart would be. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> Beneath cloth and skin, there was definitely a heart there. And it was still beating. "Sometimes, it's the other way around. Your faith loses you. And we get to find a new one."
<Dove> (( up* into >_>; ))
<MolotThePresentationing> The other was still looking over the priests' head, unto the world. It was bright. It was shiny. And he wanted to stab something in it so, so bad.
<Dove> "Faith and I are one and the same." :: Helios countered expertly, his small palm pressing a little over where it rested to better feel the beating of the fellow's heart. :: "Do you want to lose me?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "Not particularly. Lack of sleep after a month of such does not appeal." The sights did not so much loom, as they..hung. A few inches above Helios's own. The crusader could not, and did not, brag about height much. "Spot had that going towards you. We agreed to disagree on some points."
<Dove> "Then don't lose faith!" :: He grinned, fairly proud of himself and his skills of persuasion. He then offered the crusader a hug, closing his eyes contentedly. :: "Is Will doing okay?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "Hrmph." The naivete. It -burned-. Reluctantly returning the hug, the man shrugged, somewhat inconclusively. "We've burnt the line, after neither wanted to sit in a box on a bi-daily basis. So yes, probably."
<Dove> "So when am I supposed to have quality Will-time?" :: Whined the priestling, giving the larger figure an urgent squeeze. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "You've been having it. With exception of Theryn remarks. -Those- were all mine." The crusader managed a curtsey from the still-hugged position. "Don't see why you'd want to waste time on that aspect, though. It's a jumble of memories that -broods- over repeating of universal themes on a -daily- basis. Gets.. so.. old."
<Dove> :: ... :: "...I don't...understand. So...I'm...I'm...talking to both of you at once, now?" :: He sounded rather distinctly distressed. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "Who knows." Was the laconic reply. He managed to keep that annoying grin off, though-- for the sake of the boy's sanity, if not the other half's. "Accept that it was just a chalk line to begin with. And move on."
<Dove> "No, I -need- to know!" :: Helios shook his head, releasing the crusader and standing back. :: "It is -very- important to me, alright?"
<MolotThePresentationing> Crossing arms over his chest, the older man looked at the younger one, somberly. To some questions, there were no right answers. "Out there, in the sands? We -tried-. Perfect split, one and one, to divide time by halves. Oh, it seemed a -perfect- solution to a morsel's problem of guilty conscience.. But do you -know- what it brought to us?"
<Dove> "...But if you're...--" :: Helios frowned, obviously extremely conflicted, before moving to step around the crusader. :: "I'm going to go get you some breakfast."
<MolotThePresentationing> Step around the crusader.. only to have the crusader in question side-step, putting an end to such a maneuver. "Confusion. Daily disorientation. Bits and pieces that both parts used to situate themselves in the world were -no longer accessible-. Every morning, it was like rising from the grave, wondering what happened prior, and what was to come. Lack of memory. <c>
<MolotThePresentationing> We -like- sense, Helios. We -like- memory. Symbiosis of two organisms, in which neither can thrive without the other. See it. -DEAL- with it."
<Dove> "...But..." :: Helios frowned, slender ivory brows furrowing. :: "...How am I supposed to remain faithful to Will this way?" :: Ah. So there was the issue. Devotion and faithfulness were both important aspects of the priestling's life, and this current situation seemed to clash with it rather messily. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "Beats us." Shrugged the fluffy-haired one, stepping to let the waif pass, and falling into step beside him. "Take it like a string, perhaps. Despite how many kinks and corners it has, it's still a complete circle. A single whole." In the back of the mind, a certain spot diverted its attentions from the haphazard organization of thoughts' fragments, to exchange dubious glances with
<MolotThePresentationing> the other.
<Dove> "...S-...so..." :: He felt somewhat lightheaded, stepping over to a wall to rest a hand against for support. :: "...I...should simply look at you as Will, even though you're also Aves?"
<MolotThePresentationing> "Wies, or Avill, or Wormful Surprise. You could accept that the one, to which you were attached, is gone for good.. Or you could look at the world anew. Deal. Adjust." The light continued to crawl along the floor, reaching the discarded weapon and making the scoured edges of it glint maliciously. "We cannot think for you. Stab? That's another story~"
<Dove> "...Gone...for good..." :: He echoed, sounding faint. :: "...Adjust." :: Nope, sorry. Not happening. The faithful heart was one that devoted itself to one and no other. ...So...what now? :: "...I suppose this means I am not to give affection...at all. It seems like a fairly clear sign." :: Pushing away from the wall, he headed toward the door. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> "So you will abandon that, which has been picking up the pieces to try to make sense of it all.. for you?" The voice- light, as if jesting. "How noble. Faithful. Worthwhile~" And the cackle, sharp enough to cut that stained glass of perception. "Do that, little glow-worm. Sure as allhell wouldn't make us go away, though. Where one goes, the other is to follow."
<Dove> "You don't think I've had to make sense of this as well, on my own, and at times it has even felt -in vain-?" :: He snapped, hand hovering over the doorknob. :: "You don't think I blame -myself- every day for Will's death, because I wasn't there to resurrect him after he was apparently slain twice?! I have failed in every regard in my promises of protecting him, no matter how -hard- I tried.<c>
<Dove> So now I am to try and figure out how to rearrange the very -morals- of my life to make things better, even though it goes against all the things I believe in? I do not complain, but please, at least try to be lenient with my feelings and emotions sometimes. For I bruise easily. And I break more often than not." :: And with that, he swung open the door. ::
<MolotThePresentationing> There seemed to be little left to do, but to follow. Always follow, ever since that small hand slid into a larger one, indicating that the radiant was clean, sort of dry, and ready to go. The human frowned, mulling over the outburst up until they'd make their way down the stairs, before remarking. "So don't rearrange. Just take for granted a presence, and go save the world."
<Dove> :: "All I ever wanted was love" wasn't something he could make himself reply with, even though it was the most candid truth there ever was of him. Instead, he resigned to descending the stairs with a distant look of absence. :: "Very well."
<MolotThePresentationing> The one descending after caught himself staring at the sun-bleached pinkish ribbon, and shook his head, appearing far from satisfied with this conclusion, but not willing to press forward on the already thin ice.

Rika> ---------
<Jeremiah> Jeremiah stood tall atop Calibans Back, the great boar idling along, tired from the Mornings run. Jeremiah worn nothing in the way of his normal Vestments, He wore no mask, no armor, the only things the same was the daggers at his sides. the Pair turdged into a small town after long days on the road, and He hopped down, leading Caliban to water, likely scaring the Local Pecos. he cracked his...
<Jeremiah> ...Necl looking around. A small temple, a General store, An assortment of local buisnesses...and farmland...as far as the eyes could see.
<Rika> A tiny place, and a dusty one at that. The first roosters were now crowing, and select members of community ventured out into their businesses and gardens, to plant and to craft and to tend.. From the temple, a plump acolyte clad in somehow familiar pastel robes ventured out, rubbing her eyes. An empty basket hung from the crook of her arm, complete with a folded towel <c>
<Rika> to cover the bread, so it did not cool too much on her way back.
* Jeremiah did a double take at the acolyte, the spark of recognition in his eyes...how? why?...did it matter. he patted caliban, whispering in the beast's ear, and walking off, trying to, inperceptibly, follow the acolyte.
<Rika> Unfortunately, a large bovine animal with a man on his back stuck out as a sore thumb in the middle of a small agricultural community. Some minutes into the pursuit, spurred by the pointed looks of a few people she passed, Rika finally wisened up and turned around. To stand. And stare. This had to be the -largest- hog she's ever seen.
<Jeremiah> ((Caliban is watering, Jeremiah is walking)
<Rika> ((Oh. >_X;; Gotcha.))
<Rika> The stranger looked somehow familiar, and behind him, more importantly, was the  -largest- hog she's ever seen.
* Jeremiah he walked past her, waiting for her to go back about her buisness, He'd followed her, and when she was alone....
<Rika> Thankfully, the girl was far from stupid. Throwing a fearful glance at the passing man (the walk, the smell, it all breathed familiarity), she turned around and almost ran towards the temple's invitingly open doors.
* Jeremiah he looked at her, showing the world a look of "wtf?" he went about his buisness, he visited the general store, and some of the local buisnesses, he talked with locals, he laughed and joked. he loaded Caliban, and ...as a final act, he visited the temple.
<Rika> The temple was a nice enough place- a spacious affair of a hall and an aligning place where the life of the extremely devout went on in peace and quiet. Or.. it was quiet, before Jeremiah walked into the place and a devotional vase full of yester-day's flowers shattered onto the stone floor with an obscenely loud noise. A moment later,  a voice, than another, added to the clamor.
<Rika> Some distance ahead, a dressing-down was taking place.
* Jeremiah jeremiah approached, while not loudly, or telegraphing his entrance, he made no attempt to hide his footsteps. walking forward to trying and see where the sound was coming from.
* Rika appeared to be bowing off to a significantly older (and frail-looking) fellow in clerical garb. A half a dozen apologies later, the priest looked up at the approaching man, and smiled. "May the blessing of Eternal Lady be upon you, my son.." The acolyte at his side froze, before skittering off to get.. presumably, a dust-pan and a mop.
<Jeremiah> Jeremiah would mod to the priest, tipping his wide brimmed hat. "And on you. Might i ask what the trouble is?"
<Rika> The oldster harramph'd, before narrowing his eyes at the stiff back of the departing girl. "Oh, just the usual overzealousness of youth. Running here, running there, and not a useful thought in her head... .... Ehm. How may our humble establishment be of service?" The last, with a more more benevolent nod to the stranger.
<Jeremiah> "Now sir, we were all children once. and a many thing can be said for zeal. Do not be so hard on the child, many times a kinds word will travels father than a scolding." He cleared his throat and also looked after the girl. "I simply need a moment of prayer, good sir."
<Rika> "Of course." And as simple as that, he departed, shuffling off towards the exit and mumbling something about wayward large-town acolytes, coming in and acting like they owned the place. In a minute or two, sounds of fresh steps indicated the return of the girl in question-- who had the gall to look severely distressed at Jeremiah's continuous presence on the premises.
<Jeremiah> Jeremiah met her eyes. No emotion betrayed. he flashed the girl a kind smile. "why does a big city acolyte intrude on a place such as this?"
<Rika> The emotions flashing across this ones' face were easy enough to read- anger, agitation, open hostility.. and, above all, -fear-. To threaten a prisoner was one thing, but the guy was here, in the flesh, and -quite alert-. Mumbling something incoherent, she leaned to scoop the worst of the shards into the pan with her bare hands.
* Jeremiah he slowly approached her, wearing a smile. "last we met, you wanted to kill me? what changed? have you changed? A pretty penny for your thoughts my dear."
<Rika> "Get out of here." Replied the girl flatly, continuing her task. A handful, than another, of slightly wilted flowers went into the pan.
<Rika> It was becoming quite noticeable that she was shaking like the last tree'd leaf in December.
* Jeremiah he continued to advance. "do you know what happened to my wife, because of you?" his smile did not falter.
<Rika> "I hope she delivered her child safely." She refused to look up at him, hiding behind the task.
<Jeremiah> "she did not." the smile stood out. his footsteps were closer and closer now, he was right in front of her now, and still advancing.
<Rika> "I am sorry for your loss." Scooping up the pan, she began backing away, still not looking at him. The words sounded forced, mechanical; one step away from outright panic.
<Jeremiah> "There was no lose. My son was born half dead. I have, however, ensured his survival." Step, Step step, he was right up against her now, still smiling.
<Rika> "Ehr...Good. Now if you'll excuse me.." Edging with increasing speed towards the living area (and, presumably, some sort of a trash disposal unit), Rika took a moment to reflect that this was probably a good time to scream.
<Jeremiah> A owerhand reached out for her neck, striking like a snake. Still the smile, the damn smile. "I sold my -Soul- child. My -Mortal Soul-."
<Rika> Acolytes were not known for their agility. Dropping the pan, this one clawed at the hand around her neck with a strangled squeak.
* Jeremiah he advanced until her back was pinned against the wall. "I tried to help you girl, and for it I lost my soul. I serve the Dark Ones now, My fight rages on but i can no longer aid it, My Children, in there lifetimes, will not know true peace." still the smile. "Are you happy with your gods Acolyte?"
<Rika> Considering that her breathing was currently restrained, not much sense could be acquired from this one. Having been pinned, the acolyte increased her struggles, kicking at her assailant (though likely without much effect). Slowly but surely, the peachy flesh was going blue..
<Jeremiah> After the kick, jeremiah winced slightly, drawing her back, and slaming her bodily agaisnt the wall. "I should Kill you, I should tear you into pieces, You nearly destroyed my family. WHy shouldn't i?" He released her throat.
<Rika> "B..because you care about humankind as a whole?" She tried, after coughing and wheezing some oxygen back into her lungs. It was a poor response, but all that a follower of -love- could think of, at the time and under the pressure.
* Jeremiah he reached down to grip her face and again slam her head into the wall. "My fight it -over- now thanks to you! I serve Gods now! I cannot Fight against them, Or my son, My Jacob, is lost."
<Rika> "That's... good?" The weak smile offered to Jeremiah was one of those "Pleasestopstaringatmeandgoaway" ones that weaker things sometimes gave to the strong.
<Jeremiah> "Good is it?" A knee flew up to meet her face.
<Rika> One possible concussion was supplemented with a broken nose. Thanks, Mr. Jeremiah! There wasn't much additional response, as the cleric opted out for cowering and wimpering.
<Jeremiah> "I tried to save you child, and you brought me to ruin." he stepped back looking down on her. "Have the gods served you as faithfully as you have served them? did they speak to you and tell you to travel out to the backwater of society and serve them even more. Did they Place you in front of me -again- for a reason?"
<Rika> "Yes.. yes.. yes.. yes.. yes.. no." Clutching at her face, the acolyte inched her way back into the more populated area of the temple. Why did they place this atrocity before her again? She could not answer that. Noone could. Perhaps, it was just another idea of a divine test..
* Jeremiah he looked down at her, smiling, there was a steel in his voice. "Please do not run away, I'm trying to have a conversation her, and you are making it rather difficult."
<Rika> Damnit, was this man -creepy-. Feeling mostly like a mouse, she stopped the inching, wondering when the conversation would escalate from a monologue to a stabbilogue. "Please let me be." That, without too much hope.
<Jeremiah> "You have hurt me Child. I do not like that."
<Rika> me, or my?))
<Jeremiah> Me))
<Jeremiah> (my is next))
<Rika> "... Not intentionally." *Sniffl.*
<Jeremiah> "You have Hurt My family, Seperated us, wounded us, brought us to the brink of death and oblivion."
<Rika> The girl shook her head, still holding onto the bleeding face. A faint pinkish light streamed between her fingers. "You've done THAT to yourself."
<Jeremiah> "Perhaps you are right. By fighting against the wrongs of the gods i have placed myself in the line of fire."
<Rika> There wasn't much to say to that, for that was the -blatantly obvious-. A faint crack could be heard from behind her palms, as the nose was reset and fused with a fair amount of mana.
<Rika> Need to wrap up, Elrin's about to get home.))
<Rika> Or continue later?))
<Jeremiah> "But forgive me, as your are the device they used, that i do very much wish to return the favor. Do you have any Family, Rika?"
<Jeremiah> Either works, this is more Real rp that anything lol))
<Rika> A mute shake of the hand, on that part. Like she'd tell him, even if she did.
<Jeremiah> "If you do, I will Find them. Whats more, I know your friends, A Kraus, and Rurik i believe. i will visit upon them, and their death and pain, Fire and Truth."
<Jeremiah> Theirs*))
<Rika> "They're not my friends." A snort. "Just someone the House hired. Good luck in searching, either way. I hope they give you what you're worth." My, wasn't someone in the need of a smack-down again.
<Jeremiah> "DO you disbelieve me little cleric?"
<Rika> "I believe you." *Glare*.
<Jeremiah> "And so you, who have devoted you life to the reduction of pain and suffering, will cause it. I do this because of -you- child, and only you."
<Rika> "What you do, you do of your own accord." Well, at least she was looking at him now. "Do not blame it on others."
* Jeremiah he nodded, mostly ignoring her words. "However..."
<Rika> The glare continued. She'll pay for it later, sure..
<Jeremiah> "I give you a choice."
<Rika> "What choice."
<Jeremiah> "If it was within you power to stop me, to prevent the pain and death i would visit up youf family, your friends, your fellow Clerics in Lighthalzen, Ruik, and Kraus. would you? would you stop me?"
<Rika> "Yes." She did not need more than a split second to answer.
<Jeremiah> "Even at your own expense?"
<Rika> A moments' pause. "If I knew it would work long-term, then yes."
<Rika> Elrin's back. >_<;;; Letsgoletsgoletsgo.))
<Jeremiah> "I submit this to you. Cme with me, And i will swear off my vengence, so long as you are with me. I will Not actively Look for or attack your loved ones, though defend myself i will should we happen upon them. You are welcome to try and Harm me, in fact, i would hope you at least try. But make no mistake, I am stronger, I am faster, and I will win. If you run I will catch you, and our...
<Jeremiah> ...agreement will be void. Will you come with me then, Child Rika?"
<Jeremiah> ((gtg?))
<Rika> If looks could kill, this one could likely wipe out a small city-state. After a long while, she nodded, once.

<Dove> Heli: *Charges a Teleport spell for half a day.* x_x
<Yurr> Spot: *Munches on a half-baked scorpion* "Mrursuppusdterrmovzheshtinger?"
<Dove> Heli: ...W-...what? >_>; *Strain.*
<Yurr> Spot: *Looks up, finishing chewing*. "Are you supposed to remove the stinger?"
<Dove> Heli: I have no idea. What's a stinger? *Chargity charge!*
<Yurr> Spot: "The sharp stingy par.." *Slowly falls over, while looking extremely surprised*.
<Dove> Heli: ...A-Aves? >_> *Bead of sweat drolls down his cheek, still charging.*
<Yurr> Spot: *Twitches a little* "The golden rainbows, and the red balloons.."
<Dove> Heli: ...Aves?! *Gives up charging, storing it in his little heart-core, where it shines like a battery light. He then skitters over to shake the crusader worriedly.* Get up! D:
<Yurr> Spot: "Of COURSE that's how you can kill dragons.. mom's blueberry pie is just one among the atrocities..." *Stares up at the priestling with a lopsided grin*
<Dove> Heli: ...You're doing the whole...looney thing again. Aren't you. *He frowned, poking Spot in the side.*
<Yurr> Spot: *Closes his eyes, tucking arms behind the head* "What's a looney?"
<Dove> Heli: Crazy person. ...You, basically. *He explained, tiredly taking a seat beside the crusader.*
<Yurr> Spot: *Smiles, widely*. "And the best part? There isn't a damn thing wrong with it~"
<Dove> Heli: Sure there is. Not making any sense at all, for starters. *The priestling explained, fanning himself with a hand.*
<Dove> (( Btw, found this and thought it applied to our favorite new saying rather well. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v335/pheesh/1237960023897.jpg ))
<Yurr> Spot: Sense is overrated. The meat is there for the taking, and the other jackals do back off, if the power's on your side. What's there to regret?
<Yurr> ((*Giggle*))
<Dove> (( X3 ))
<Dove> Heli: I rather enjoy...sense. *Helios protested, still fanning himself.* It's how people come to better understand you. Which I'd personally -like- to do, but you certainly make it hard.
<Molot> Spot: Senselessness can be enjoyable. Chaos is serene. And you, glow-worm, need to expand your -braaaain-.~
<Dove> Heli: If you want me to learn, then show me how this is so. *He challenged the crusader with fatigued side-long glance, while fanning.*
<Dove> (( a* fatigued ))
<Molot> Spot: *Opens one eye, staring into a web of cracks in the rock overhead for a moment, before pointing them out with a finger.* "There. What do you see?"
<Dove> Heli: ...Cracks? *He replied without much pause for thought.*
<Molot> Spot: "BEEEP. Wrong."
<Dove> Heli: ...How so? :<
<Molot> Spot: "It's a -sign-."
<Dove> Heli: ...Of -what-? *He looks back at Spot from the indicated cracks, lifting a slender ivory brow, quizically.*
<Molot> Spot: "Of the grand serpent, eating its own tail a hundred-miles below us~ Of the world tree, shuddering from mud weevils...! Of the end of the WORLD, silly."
<Dove> Heli: ... *Returns his attention to the cracks, eyeing them carefully.* ...No, I'm pretty sure...they're...not.
<Molot> Spot: "And -ThAT- one looks like it's got some moss growing in it... Just think of what this signifies."
<Dove> Heli: That you're crazy? *Light grin.*
<Molot> Spot: "Nah. That enough dew is collected here overnight, to make the growth possible~ And crickets, of course. Silly morsel."
<Dove> Heli: *He stifled a giggle, leaning back on his hands.* Or maybe you're just pretending to be crazy.
<Molot> Spot: *Lowers his hand, glancing over to the priestling* "Just keep thinking that, then~".
<Dove> Heli: If you don't mind being a pillow of sorts, I'd like to take a short rest from charging that teleport spell... *He yawned somewhat, covering his mouth with a hand.*
<Rika> Spot: "Crazy pillows do crazy things. Unless you are a bedsheet, in which case we have an entirely -different- arrangement.." *Winks at the sleepy one.*
<Dove> Heli: ...I'm going to assume that's a 'by all means', and lie on you. *He crawled over and leaned against the crusader, blinking groggily.* Are you feeling alright? Outside the starvation and dehydration.
<Rika> Spot: "Oh, liberties, liberties, ones untold of by the most -liberal- of constitutions~" *Twitches, as the small body leans up against his, and grows quiet for a good few minutes, before finally sharing.* "Miss the sky."
<Dove> Heli: You could always poke your head out there and look, you know. *He muttered faintly.*
<Rika> Heli: "From down up. Hurling through it at speeds that make your eyes water and your nape-hairs stand on their ends. Falling and rising, rising and falling.." *The murmur of the blighted human's voice was likely just another lullabye to the radiant's ears.*
<Dove> (( Heli? XD ))
<Dove> Heli: Flying, you mean? *He inquired, voice barely audible as he nestled against the crusader.* I wish I could fly...
<Rika> ((Mmhmm?))
<Dove> (( You started your last post with Heli, love. XD ))
<Rika> dfgkjafghadsfh))
<Rika> Spot: "Conquering that, which is beyond the clouds, and sharing it with no man. ... Some beasts, maybe. Some birds and some bird-people. Why don't you fly?"
<Dove> Heli: My wings are too heavy...and too big. *He murmured, eyes closed all the while.* I'm the only Radiant I know...that can't fly.
<Rika> Spot: "After the third sunrise, they would take us to a cliff and push us off. Some flew. Most did not. It was a good selection process. Made some fledgelings try all the harder." The guy -grinned-.
<Dove> Heli: That doesn't sound...very fun. *Murmur-murmur.* At least you made it...
<Rika> Spot: "Oh, I didn't." The grin continued, thankfully unseen by the reclining priest. "Fell on a pile of bodies about thirty feet down. Broke a rib or three."
<Dove> Heli: But...you...learned to fly later?
<Rika> Spot: "Took a couple of jumps."
<Rika> Spot: "Often does."
<Dove> Heli: Luckyyy... *Groggy cuddles.* I bet you were a powerful Radiant...and brave...and...and... *Yawwwwwwwn.* ...Not weak, like me.
<Rika> Spot: *Pats the pale head, absent-mindedly, still looking up at the cracks.* "And I bet noone ever pushed you off."
<Dove> Heli: I don't think I'm supposed to fly...my wings are...really too large, and far too heavy. *He'd purr from the pat if he could.* ...Perhaps they're just supposed to be...a symbol.
<Rika> Spot: *Continued to pet, his mind- off into whereever Tower-touched minds went in moments of reminiscence* "What do you think Immortals are, stupid?"
<Dove> Heli: ...Hhmmmh? *He sleepily glanced up, despite the soothing petting that made staying away more difficult than ever.*
<Dove> (( awake* ))
<Rika> Spot: "Everything's there for a reason. If they want a symbol, they carve a symbol." *A withdrawn hand slapped against first the crusader's own forehead (and the faded inversed symbol thereon), then the back of Helios's neck* "If they want you to fly, they give you wings."
<Dove> Heli: Or fall like a rock. *He mused, jostled more awake by the light slap to the back of his neck.* I've fallen from an airship before, quite...ungracefully, with my wings out.
<Rika> Spot: "Of your own accord?" A bushy brow was perked up, in disbelief.
<Dove> Heli: No...well... *He frowned, rubbing at one of his eyes.* I...wanted Sir Damiel to tell me the truth, so I stood on the rail and asked of my life depended on it, would I fall to my death because he was dishonest despite how many times he reassured me it wasn't so. ...He said yes. And then the wind came and blew me off the side...
<Dove> (( if* my life ))
<Rika> Spot: "One does not fall due to wind, or enemy, or mishap." *He caught a lock of platina without really looking at it, beginning to wrap it around his finger.* "One falls because others have judged it to be the time, and because one -must-." *The hair formed a ring of white around the tanned and wind-chapped flesh.* "One rises, because one must. .. perhaps the circumstances
<Rika> were not dire enough, little feather?"
<Dove> Heli: I was too sad to try, I think...
<Rika> Spot: *Peers down at the roll of hair, contemplatively.* "Want to, now?"
<Dove> Heli: ...What, fall? We're in the middle of the desert, silly... *He poked the crusader in the side again.*
<Rika> Spot: "There are -rocks-. You'll just need to find a big enough one.~" *The poke was reciprocated. With double amount of the force.*
<Dove> Heli: *He squeaked before giggling and poking back harder.* We're going to be -leaving- soon!
<Rika> Spot: *And thus, the poke wars begun.* "Leaving?" *Amidst the poking, the crusader had the gall to look surprised.* "How? Where? Why?"
<Dove> Heli: *Pokepokepokepoke.* By teleporting, to...well, Prontera, as I haven't marked any other location during my warp training...and...because we're lost and stranded?"
<Rika> Spot: *PokepokepokePROD.* "The city of spires and poorly-bathed monarchies. Great. Do the Spot and I stick our heads into nooses -now- or -later-? ... Besides. We are not lost. I know exactly where we are."
<Dove> Heli: And that's why we've been stuck under this rock?
<Dove> Heli: .... *POKE.*
<Rika> Spot: "It's a very friendly rock. And I know that we're percisely -under- it." *Glare.*
<Dove> Heli: Which is why we're very, very lost. And why I'm warping us out of here. *He concluded with a gentle poke to the crusader's nose.*
<Rika> Spot: *Wrinkles his nose at the poke, counterpoking, twice, at the pristlings' ribs* "It's -nice- out here, though. Quiet. Everything almost.. makes sense."
<Dove> Heli: I have to get back to -helping people-, Aves. I can't spend forever out here wasting away under a desert rock with you. *Nosepoke.*
<Rika> Spot: "... Of course." *The final poke accepted without comment, the crusader-turning away and tucking a fist under his head. A posture that surely meant 'trying to sleep, you inconsiderate brat'.*
<Dove> Heli: ... *He frowned somewhat, small shoulders slumping.* ...Aves?
<Rika> Spot: "Mmmm?" If the velare had a tail, it would be flicking back and forth in a mildly irritated manner. The boy was going. He was coming along. What else was there to talk about?
<Dove> Heli: ...Nothing. *Helios sighed quietly, lying down beside the crusader, though taking care not to physically touch him. He didn't want to bother the fellow any further. For now, he'd rest.*
<Rika> Spot: "Speak up." The tail would now be doing more than irritated little twitches-- it would lash back and forth, indicating that the conversation was -not- quite finished.
<Dove> Heli: I'm just...sorry. I seem to displease you rather often. And I know this isn't really a very fair situation to you... *He trailed off, resting his cheek against the cool shaded sand.*
<Rika> Spot: It's a case of life. *He was quiet for a bit, staring off into the darker corner of the cave-thing they've been stuck in for the past several days.* We would do it all over again, if we had to. So I thinks.
<Dove> Heli: I know Will would, but I'm talking about Aves, not Will. This was your body, and your existence that he invaded. He and I go one way, but you often seem to protest. And I feel as if you've been put in an unfair position like this. *He listened to the earth beneath him.*
<Rika> Spot: "Is talking to the walls and the ceilings, with little chorus of voices that you once known any better than dragging feet after a worm that wants to save, and not eat, the world?" A touch of humor invaded the otherwise dry tone. "Is perpetual noise better than silence?"
<Dove> Heli: ...My point is this--I want you to be happy. Just as I want Will to be happy. As I want everyone to be happy. Even if it's a small gesture, I'd still like to be able to try and help you find happiness, no matter what it may be.
<Rika> Spot: "Happiness is falling. And not hitting the ground." And with an uncharacteristic giggle, came more silence.
<Rika> Elrin's back, g2g))

<@Yurr> And so it was, amidst folds of velvet and silk, in a closet on a second floor of a certain manor in a certain part of a certain large, well-developed city... that a gaunty has experienced a random encounter. It was random in a sense that noone really had any business being in Wressen Fildolovin's closet at this time of the day, least of all the gaunty-- and this other <c>
* Raps (~Daegas@F7329615.173D5BA6.DB39FD39.IP) Quit (Ping timeout)
<@Yurr> fellow. "Did ya use those clematis vines, too?" She inquired of him in that raspy, wholly unpleasant tone of voice, patting her coat for something that could've been used as a weapon.
<Jeremiah> "Viiiiiiiines?" the voice came from...Nothing, and in such a confined space, all you could tell was the voice was close. Bejeweled robes rustled, the clink of jewelry, the sound of finery being pocketed. "What Vines? And my methods are my own."
* jotei`edwards craned his head up from across the alleyway on the inn's balcony.  Exhaling a plume of smoke,  he nearly quivered in anticipation.  Today was the day. His plans were finally coming to a head.  He looked up towards the sun, noting it had reached it's highest position in the sky.  Pushing back his cloak, he examined his utility belt and hidden catch pockets.  It was time.  As far as anyone knew he
<jotei`edwards> ould remain in his quarters under direct request not to be disturb.  Exteneding a length of fiber cord lowered himself down from his balcony into the shadow of the alley.  Finally some excitement.
<jotei`edwards> extending^ agh
<jotei`edwards> (speaking of which ducking out for a quick wake up smoke between posts, back in a jig)
<@Yurr> "Huh. We totally did." The redhead nodded, eyeing a particularly shiny button, which was there one moment, and gone the next. "If ya want significant payback, tho, yer not even in the right place." And, a bit quieter. "Silly thieves."
* Raps (~Daegas@F7329615.173D5BA6.DB39FD39.IP) has joined #twilight_rp
* Raps is now known as Su
<Jeremiah> "Payback?" more finery disappeared into nothing, "This is fuuuuuun. I have what i need, i just like taking from others what they don't"
<@Yurr> A contemplative silence. Then, "Oh. So if 'm gonna take this fake-gemstone-encrusted shoe, o'er there, and clobber ya o'er the head with it, while yelling "thief", ye'd not mind?" While no weapon was extracted, the woman did manage to procur a piece of beef(?) jerky, which she was now nibbling on.
* Hephas (~stnewl99@870A7043.A4D83113.6D52250D.IP) has joined #twilight_rp
<Jeremiah> "miiiiiiind?" the robes on hangers swished and rustles as an inivisble hand ran by the them, disturbing them slightly. "That would be fuuuuuuuuuuuun. But What do you think would Happen to you my dear?"
* Kestrel is now known as Kiara
* Aurin is now known as Sanguinaria
<@Yurr> "Dunno. 'd get stab'ded, prolly. But not 'fore a bunch of squawking servants descend upon yer invisible head like magpies upon a dying puppy. ...Mmm... puppies." That, while squeezing herself into a corner and continuing to nibble on the meat. "So. Got a name?"
* jotei`edwards crept across the alleyway slowly, looking left, then right.  Empty, as it had been the entire week during which he had surveyed the manor.  As expected and as like clockworth, he had watched the nobleman leave in the morning, and did not expect his return until somewhere near dusk.  Outside of the south wing of the manor, he looked up, and saw the open window with the laundry hook extending out.
<jotei`edwards> mooth sailing thus far.  He uncoiled the fibercord, and tied his small iron grapple to the air and swung it up. Yanking it down to test its stability, he secured all his loose items and began to hoist himself up with thin ropy muscles.
<Jeremiah> "i dooooooo"
<@Yurr> "Lies."
<Jeremiah> "maybe."
<@Yurr> "Betcha a pen."
<Jeremiah> "don't got a pen"
<@Yurr> "What've youse got?
<@Yurr> "
<Jeremiah> "I have death in my left hand, Pain in my right, I have fire in my soul and i have Truth in my mind."
* jotei`edwards halfway up to the third story, he spat out the cigarette with a sour look on his face, reminding himself for the countless time that physical exertion and acrid smoke weren't exactly a harmonic mix.  Draping an arm over the laundry hook, he swung his leg up into the open window and squirmed inside, deciding to leave the rope hanging in the event of an emergency escape.
<@Yurr> "What sorta fire? Oxiacetylene?"
* jotei`edwards peered around the room, crouching down and sliding behind the copper tub.  It was a washing room of sorts.  He stared transfixed at the door into the hall, ears perked and intent on monitoring potential activity throughout the manor.  In his survey throughout the last week he had never seen any servants wandering the top floor, but one could never be too sure.  Satisfied with his isolation he
<jotei`edwards> rept out from behind the tub and stalked towards the door.  The master bedroom was... to the west if his sense of direction was correct.
<Jeremiah> "Orichalikos"
<@Yurr> "Whoawha?.."
<@Yurr> "... That's not even a gas."
<Jeremiah> "liquid."
<@Yurr> "How'd ya get it into yer skull?"
<Jeremiah> "wasn't easy."
* @Yurr looked at where she perceived the guy to be with a growing suspicion. Something wasn't right out here, and flooding the skull cavity with flammable liquid was only the tip of the iceberg.
<Jeremiah> "What will it be? Pain of fire, Death or truth?"
* jotei`edwards as he padded over the luxurious carpet lining the floor of the hall, he took some time to gape at some of the ridiculous family tapestries and paintings of ancient ancestors long gone.  His teeth clicked in disgust from the prime example of the lethargic injustice of a wealth inherited rather than earned.  His finger idly traced around the the small catch dagger stashed in the small of his pack,
<jotei`edwards> ut he shook his head.  Not only did he have a limited time for his caper, he also felt himself above such petty vandilism....marginally.
<@Yurr> "'ll opt out for egg and onion pasties. Those little crunchy ones, with an x on top and golden-brown..." She paused, lifting a hand to the barely audible sounds of movement outside the room. "..Expectin' someone, lark?"
<Jeremiah> "Expectin? no? but Always Welcoming."
<@Yurr> "With righteh or the lefteh?"
* jotei`edwards reached his goal and stopped at the large oaken doors, engraved with numerous decadent symbols, line with what appeared to be gold sheet and a a doorknob polished to a brilliantly brassy glow. Muttering to himself, he scanned the hallway again, then crouched down in front of the lock and removed his steel picks, and locking them between his fingers like chopsticks.
<Jeremiah> "right first, then sometimes left."
<@Yurr> Colorless lips stretched in a smile at the faint scraping of metal just twenty feet distant. "Ever yer fellow thieves?"
* jotei`edwards was too transfixed on the subtle clicks of the pressure tumblers falling into place as rattled his makeshift device in the lock.  Having managed to get this far undected was essentially the main thrust of his mission, and the most delicate part.   Once he locked himself in the masterbedroom, no one would be there to bother him until dusk.  Aha, with a satisfying flow of cracks, he removed the pin
<jotei`edwards> nd gingerly tested the knob, pushing the door open and sliding in through the small crack before shutting it behind him and resetting the lock.  He rested his forehead against the cold oak for a moment to catch his breath, "phew."
<Jeremiah> "Call me no thief, and make no mistake, my fights are fair, no one can ask better."
<Jeremiah> "Do you long for one, my dear?"
<@Yurr> "Not particularly. Tho, a thief's a thief's a thief. No matter what 'ey call 'emselves these days." She stood, cracking open the door and peering at the new arrival without bothering to be too discreet about it. "When cat's away, mice build shit-castles. Wonder if this lark remembered to bring enough booze for everyone."
<Jeremiah> "hope its rum."
<@Yurr> "Why rum?"
<Jeremiah> "i burns so nice. fragrant."
<@Yurr> "Fool. Rum's fer drinkin' and mebbe fer pourin' into eyes of peoples ya don't like. Not fer burnin'."
<@Yurr> "Wood's fer burnin'."
<Jeremiah> "you're never poured flaming rum over a dying priest, have you?"
<Su> ((^  Best post ever.))
<@Yurr> "Naw. Why, it burns good?"
* jotei`edwards paused his breath and widened his eyes.  Voices. With an instinctual chemical memory he spun around, scanning the room while sidestepping for cover, which he took behind one of the particularly large armoires.   What changed?  Had that closet door been so open when he'd walked in?  Servents riflng through his crap perhaps?  He really wasn't planning on having to silence anyone during this
<jotei`edwards> xcursion.  Straining his ears he tried to isolate the voices and what they were saying.
<Jeremiah> "It dooooooeees...."
<@Yurr> "Not fond'o keelin' priests. Call me sentimental." And, in a much louder voice obviously intended for the outsider. "Ay! Did'ja bring rum?"
<Jeremiah> "Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee...they're good for burning..."
<@Yurr> "For healin', too."
<@Yurr> "Yaz never knows when yez's found gutted on the street."
<Jeremiah> "Its not fun, though at times i think i'drather have died."
<@Yurr> "Words're cheap. Death's expensive. Ever seen the fees they put on resurrections? It's a bloody highway robbery. Cheaper ta pull through wif some scars'n'such."
* jotei`edwards skittered back.  They had seen him.  Without so much as a hesitation or bothering to give an answer to the other pair who had beaten him to the stash, he sprinted across the the bedroom,  leapt out and kicked the heavy closet door shut.   He'd as soon not deal with anyone at all.  Locking it, he briefly though pushing down the shelf to block it, but the scrape would make too much noise. 
<jotei`edwards> nstead he grabbed a chair behind his letter desk and propped it beneath the handle.
<Jeremiah> "Where are your scars, my dear?"
 jotei`edwards stalked away, into the center of the room, his pulse was elevating.  Unslinging his satchel, he tossed it onto the bed and crouched down in front of the armoire.  He was here for one thing, and the sooner he found it the better.  Whipping his hair back, he jammed the lockpicks into the chest and began jiggling.
<Jeremiah> "he doesn't want to share, does he?"
<@Yurr> "Lessee... 've got one 'ere, 'nd one 'ere, and even a couple more o'er 'ere..." By the sound of rustling clothing, the gaunty was illustrating the none-too-descriptive phrasings. This came to a swift stop, as the closet door was slammed and, presumably, locked. "Shit." Said the gaunty, squeezing up to it and trying the handle.
<Jeremiah> "nonononono" the invisible man clicked his tounge at her. "Her jammed the door, so you have to think outside the box. the hinges, remove them."
* jotei`edwards with the forgiving snap of the catch released, he stood up and kicked open the lid of the chest and began digging through the junk.  sparse coin and largely manufactured property deeds, as well as debt incursions (so the nobleman wasn't exactly far from falling from grace was he), but that seemed to be it.  The orb was not there.  He then began to scan the shelves around the room. Nothing.   
<@Yurr> "Tis an idea." Concurred the other, patting down her pockers for something job-appropriate. "..Tho wouldn't it be better to solve things wif words and not pointless use 'o force? Ay, you. Rumless. Ya -sure- you want ta leave us in here?"
* jotei`edwards even began to start pulling random candlesticks and bending statue arms to locate a secret catch for a passage.  No such luck, apparently his architect didn't have quite the ambitious imagination.  Pausing at the center of the room again, he blinked, and found himself staring back at the closet door.  "oh....fu-" he bit off the curse,
* jotei`edwards through gritted teeth, "all right, who are you?"
<Jeremiah> "You said it yerself, Words are cheap, and rarely do they do anything in and of themselves. Actions on the other hand.."
<Jeremiah> "excuses me"
<@Yurr> "'pends. Who's askin?" The voice sound muffled and quite adrogynous. Then, to Jeremiah. "Well, technically.. but what do 'ey hurt?"
<Jeremiah> There was a creak and a squeal at the upper hinges was slowly removed. "They in in that they distract, and time is lost, and lives are lost."
<Jeremiah> They hurt in that*))
<@Yurr> "What lives?"
<@Yurr> "Silly bugger. We've nothing, if not time."
* jotei`edwards as they spoke, he lifted up one of the mannequins in the corner and set it in the center of the room.  "I'm just looking for something, If you don't get in my way I won't get in your way.  Fair?"  Unwrapping his cloak, he draped it on the mannequin and extinguished all but two of the candles in the room.  "I want to be out of here as soon as possible."  Chances are they were after the orb too, he
<jotei`edwards> as going to have to be clever.
<Jeremiah> "Lives. they could be yours or mine. We are at war, after all." The Middle Hinge came loose with a grating squeal of metal on metal.
<@Yurr> "Sounds fair 'nuff, Rumcake. Now remove the blippin' chaire 'fore my chance acquaintance, here, wrecks the entire door. .... 't'd be a shame, too. Tis a nice door." After a pause. "I -liked- that door."
<Jeremiah> "the dors fine, The hinges will have to be replaced."
<@Yurr> "I liked the hinges, too."
<Jeremiah> The lowest hinge came loose with a Crack,  and the entire door creaked and groaned as invisible hand pulling it backwas, and then threw it forwards again.  Freedom, Sweet freedom.
* jotei`edwards , had already begun his ascent up the shelf next to the closet door, when he heard the second squeak of metal.  "All right.  I'm opening the door now."  He glanced to the middle of the room at the silhouette of the mannenquin wearing his cloak.  This would be a first.   Leaning forward of the shelf, he braced himself and balanced on one foot as he crouched down and kicked the chair away before
<jotei`edwards> esuming his position perched on the shelf, a second later the door itself came crashing down.   Timing was getting bad.
<Jeremiah> "Seven Blackbirds, all in a tree, look at them and see what they be...."
<@Yurr> "Yer allright." The statement was made in an approving tone, shortly after the human took a careful look (Back, then forth), from her vantage point between a fur-trimmed cloak and some scanty eveningwear of questionable legality. "Nottabad hinge technique."
<jotei`edwards> (brb agaaaain, short short)
<Jeremiah> "One for Sorrow, Two for Joy..."
<@Yurr> "Three for tales, oh, a clever ploy.."
* Miakoda is now known as Mia[Out]
<Jeremiah> "Five for Silver, six for gold..." there was a rustling, and the invisible man would whisper the fine line into yurr's ear, "And seven for a secret never to be told."
* jotei`edwards felt his eyelid twitch slightly, as he heard muttered whispers coming from within the darkness through the closet door.  Were they discussing the mannequin?  Had they recognized it for what it was?  They didn't seem to be moving out.  Perhaps they were more clever then he expected.  Shifting his weight, he released the catch for of the sheath in his sleeve the contained a hidden dagger and dug out
<jotei`edwards>  steel spheres from a pouch at his waist... and waited.
<@Yurr> "Eight for a grave that hasn't been dug, and nine for a tale of murder'n'drugs.~" The hand, hanging losely one second, was clenched into fist and thown over the shoulder the next. "E'er heard 'o personal space-bubble? Cus yer violatin' mine."
<Jeremiah> Her Hand inpacted Hard steel with a ring, Probably a little painful. the invisible creature seemed to recoil, and then laugh. there was another whisper in her other ear. "I like you stranger. you have a fight to you." There was a rush, presumable the creature hand moved past her escaping to the outside. the party waiting in ambush outside the doors would see nothing, and likely hear very little.
jotei`edwards retensed at the sound of impact with the closet and bristled at the lack of exit, He squeezed his hands into fists and let them relax a few times, trying to release the tension.  Time was running out, They were between him and the orb.   Something was going to have to give eventually.  He took a sidelong glance at his fake self propped up in the middle of the room near the bed, and lipped
<jotei`edwards> ilently, -at least you're in no hurry.-
<@Yurr> Grinding her teeth at the results of rash-action-just-another, she waited for another minute or so. Perhaps, the fellow outside would do something to betray his location... or just get bored and go away. One never knew, and it's not like she -didn't- have the time. Thanks a lot for wandering off in the middle of the night, Mistress Dahn. Thanks a LOT.
<Jeremiah> The Manaquin would go flying across the room with a Crack, It head flying off. Slowly the Invisible man appeared, he seemed to melt into existance, From the Head, Long Dark hair, his face covered in a Steel Mask, complete with Black Star eyes and a wicked, evil, Sadistic smile. He wore a suit of leathers, and in his hands were Long bladed Daggers, the one in his right Hand was Hooked, and...
<Jeremiah> ...Serrated, and Pitch black, Barely visible in the low light of the room. the Creature wore a potions bandolier across his chest. he spun around, arms out straight Laughing merrily.
* jotei`edwards it wasn't helping, the tension demanded released, if he got too nervous he wasn't going to be able to act. Time was running out.  Time to go bold.  Anchoring himself against the top of the shelf He planted one foot against the wall and pushed firmly, beginning to teeter both himself and the entire shelf over the angle where gravity took over and sent them both crashing down onto the floor in front
<jotei`edwards> f the gaping opening of the closet.  Timing the rate of his descent, he used the shelf as a springboard, launching himself into the closet with fists extended split seconds before the heavy shelf crashed onto the floor, sending all kinds of distracting sensory stimuli to mask his dive into the closet where he landed entangled in a pile of linen. Within an instant he went limp.  The closet was
<jotei`edwards> airly large, and his entrance might have been hidden by the crash.  
<Jeremiah> (...)
<@Yurr> Crap, didn't blink.))
<jotei`edwards> agahagh, is it just me or is this beginning to spiral a bit))
<Jeremiah> Howso?))
<@Yurr> The laughter and the tremendous crash coincided with something small and punchity propelling itself into the mess of clothing that was the poorly organized closet. Yurr did not know what to think about all of that-- which is to say she did not think at all, offering, instead, a certain fake-gemstone-studded shoe to the stranger, currently tangled in the sheets.
<@Yurr> SHOE-ON. Apply directly to the forehead.
<jotei`edwards> (also I need to shower and go to class. agahagah, I always time rp's bad, I didn't think I'd get this into it)
<@Yurr> Ahwell. :>))
<jotei`edwards> blah ))
<Jeremiah> (yea...)
<jotei`edwards> I'm totally down for continuing this though (Act II)
<Jeremiah> (alright)
<@Yurr> I'll be around tomorrow afternoon, if you guys are. oOa))
<Jeremiah> ((we'll see, sorry, my schedules kinda fluid, y'know?))

OOC: Been going through some RL crap, and been RP-deprived as HELL. Much thanks goes to Guen for remedying. :)
--------------

<Imadrael> The caverns stretching into infinity did not have true light-- what they did have is a sort of false dawn, a reddish glow of flowing lava under some of the tiers, hellfire reflecting on the undersides of the bridges and rock formation. Through this twilight, came darkness. Hundreds upon hundreds of wings, beating in unison, sent the dust of ages a-flittering from the rafters of <c>
<Imadrael> the infernal corridors, and where the wings' owners passed, little enough was left alive. It is in this hazardous environment, then, that one very tired voice said. "Shouldn't be more than four hours' walk, now." They were heading to the aviaries, were the speaker and her companion, around and under the Prophet's ridge, through the waterless crevices of lower Sheol, to <c>
<Imadrael> gather what there was to gather.
<Imp> *Sharp, tiny eyes darted about alertly checking for signs of danger - not that anything was a true risk when travelling thus accompanied. "Mmm.... Cut off half an hour if we take the shortcut!~" *The woman's companion flashed her a wicked glint even as it skittered ahead of the Flock a few paces, an eerily soft but sinister laugh echoing slightly in the barren environment. -
<Imp> * - The diminutive figure climbed agilely up an outcropping a ways in front of the moving mass of black and scampered out onto an overhanging ledge just in to lean over it as she'd pass somewhere nearby beneath it. He made to stroke her hair a bit and run a hand over her shoulders, massaging aching muscles, "Anything I can get for you, ~sweetheaaart~?" *he cooed near her ear* ~
<Imadrael> "And what shortcut might that be, pray tell?" Asked the older velare woman, following up with the trail of Words at a more leisurely pace. She was small and dark, was this one, goat-hooved and tailless, clad in worn reddish-golden wraps, to which clung an occasional feather and a strand or two of straw. Jumping a little at what should've been a habitual sneak-up, Imadrael <c>
<Imadrael> smiled up at the lofn. "You could relax a bit, and take life in stride, I suppose.."
* Imp popped an impish grin at this and hopped up just long enough to speed back down the vantage point, bored with the lack of - well, much to do or see, really. Though he considered it his job to be mobile eyes in addition to the smaller imps and keep a mindful watch out for signs of anything out of the ordinary,.. it wasn't much of job right now. Trotting up through the smaller throng -
* Imp - he wisked around her back to appear at her other side like a swift and fleeting shadow. "Awww - now where would the fun in that be? Tell me, my Lady - are you well today? You seem perhaps to be under some stress which overshadows you. Truly, if there be anything I might do, do not hesitate to tell me. *His eyes lit up with mischeif then* "As for the shortcut, well -
<Imp> It would surely cut a good half- hour from the journey, but not without its risks. You remember Old Man Vreai, perhaps, and his penchant for sharing words with those who pass near his land?" *The imp shrugged then, brushing it off abruptly as if it were unimportant. He had reached up to grasp her hand and would stroke bony fingers along it if she permitted, massaging a digit as he spoke.* ~
<Imp> *whisked
<Imadrael> "That old man..? Oh, how can I not." An exasperated sigh was followed by a tap of a knuckle against the skull of the little gremlin.. that is, before the the entire hand was captured and caressed in this most unseemly, familiar, and -kind- way that the imp had. "The conversations about the weather that could last for -days-, <c>
<Imadrael> if one was not careful....! Wait, you mean that old fart's still among the living?" With a disbelieving shake of the head, the velare and her following turned into a narrow side-passage, obviously avoiding whatever 'pleasures' the shortcut promised
<Imadrael> . "As for feelings, there is dust in the air, my sweet. Not the pretty sort of dust, either, but a decay that comes from a body which has overstayed its time in the world. The Claws smell it, and do not like what it foretells. .. What shall we do about it, now.. A field trip, perhaps. A field trip."
* Imp gave a placid shrug at her surprise over the old man, "He was already a -fossil-, anyway." *He perked up quite distinctly at the term 'field trip', however, a grin showing sharp front teeth that glinted with firelight as his leathery ears flicked forward in eager malevolence, "Oooh~ Sounds like something most interesting!" -
<Imp> *Nearly as quickly, though, were the batty appendages laid back against his head with a worried sigh, "What could it be then, my lovely mistress? Trouble afoot, on cloven hooves - or a futilely flapping wind-swept wyrmling, hmm... if it worries you so that does not bode well. Shall I ask what it may be? Or perhaps speak of it not~" *He seemed mainly to be musing in rhetorical comment -
<Imp> * - at these ill tidings, a pointed tongue flicking out for a taste of the dry air along with two little sniffs.* ~
<Imadrael> ((Elrin's coming back from work in about 20 minutes or so.. so 'll have to go then. <3. But would like to continue.. whenever you've time?))
<Imp> ((Okay!~ ^^ Thanks for suggesting this - I'm having quite a bit of fun with him already I think, actually xD
<Imp> ((I... usually, when starting characters, especially with a connected background, I tend to do tons of planning. But this is good - really, the best way to get a feel for how a character will come out is often to try and play them.
<Imp> ((... it needs some polish, I think. I get these ideas that end up seeming kind of wierd to me D=
<Imp> (( (also - I suck at being poetic-ish and such..)
<Imp> ((But what do you think so far?
<Imp> ((Also... it's awesome, to me, how you think of things in such a different light - like how the troll under the bridge might just be lonely xD))
<Imadrael> "An old worm that's been overdue from his vacation abroad, that's what." The little woman snorted derisively, sending a number of bluebirds further into the tunnel ahead with a casual flick of a wrist. The rest of the present flock continued to beat their tiny wings, forming a lively cloud around the pair. "Wyrms have not bothered us for many a decade, thank Twins <c>
<Imadrael> for knocking some sense into those scaly heads.. Ditto with the kith'n'kin. Not many would as much as dare to turn an eartip towards our lands, since what happened after the last Clash." A devious little grin found its way onto her otherwise placid featured, and stayed for dinner. "No, my dear batkins. We shall go, find what there is to find, and see what <c>
<Imadrael> there is to see. After all, a girl's allowed a little curiosity after a century upon century of taking care of the nest, and -before- she begins to crumble to dust.. don't you think?"
<Imadrael> ((I love the little bugger, so far. :D))
<Imadrael> ((Not sure how to go about this, though..))
* Imp made a tiny cackling sound at her grin and the pet name which somehow managed to sound both fiendish and almost like an innocent childish giggle at the same time. The grin which spread further across his own face was pure satisfied malice - it might seem at times that perhaps the only more proud than he about their status was she herself. He petted her hand still clasped in his tinier one -
<Imp> * - Clearly attempting to soothe away such negative inklings of thought, "No, no... never such a thing shall be - never, never my lady *It was like to be obvious he was commenting on the reference about dust given his slightly pained expression.* -
<Imp> "Come now, of course you've liscence to your curiosity fulfill! Let us frolic along the way 'til we reach such place as shall give us these answers we need.~"
<Imp> ((Ummm... well - I dunno. I assume she's been talking about Will ^^a but what do you think? Would she send him up, or how would they go about investigating up in Rune from starting on that plane, if they're to do so?))
<Imadrael> "Of course not." It was likely that the imp has become quite good at reading all the nuances and tones of his mistress-- and this particular tone was the absent-minded assurance she often relayed onto the world, before going and turning it upside-down. "Such place may be far and far away, though.. so it may be that you will be the one to go ahead, and scout..<c>
<Imadrael> as your kind ought to, and as you have done, for ages past." A solemn nod was followed with a squeeze of the others' bony hand. "Through gates of ash and bone, out by the Hall of our Grand Lord, Baphomet.."
<Imadrael> She would, indeed, send him up. General scouting purposes.))
<Imp> ((Hooray~ =D Has he gone up before? Well... I'm sure he at least knows what she's talking about x3 ))
* Imp fell a step behind without taking away his hand, just enough to hide his brief and decidedly unhappy scowl in the shadow her form might cast. He was quite upset indeed to hear this sort of talk, thinking his fears and suspicions confirmed that his dear Imadrael had been growing more morbid and distant of late. It did not bode well. Though he was not one to oft hide any thoughts from her -
<Imp> * (for she also knew him almost as well as her own self in terms of discerning his moods and the like), though he would frequently put on airs and such for the sake of playfulness or mischief. Now, however - his gaiety at the prospect of such a task was a tool to disguise his deeply troubled thoughts, for her sake, thinking it not likely to please her were he to fall into a dark mood. -
<Imadrael> ((Don't think he would, if he's a family servant..But he -would- have done scouting within Sheol, and should be able to find his way to locations where gateways to Rune are opened on a regular basis. Elrin's back, btw. *huggle* Thankee SO much for RP.))
* Imp jumped but a step ahead to permit the opportunity for a flourishing bow, "Why - my good lady, I should be -more- than pleased to do you such a service! Say but the word, and I will be soon afar at your behest." *He beamed with good nature and upbeat tone.* ~
<Imp> ((*snugs* Awww! Sorry I was late, but hope it almost sufficed ;3
<Imadrael> "Word." Smiled the lady, speaking over the twitter and xix's of the Flock.
<Imp> ((You have fun now! ^^ I'm 11-7 next few days, so dunno if you can be on that late D= but text me if you wanna try to set up something))
<Imadrael> ((No.. :( Evenings belong to El. Maybe next week, though? <3...))
* Imp let out a delightful little cackle and spun an energetic circle around her feet, just barely keeping out of her way in that almost-obnoxious way he seemed to have. ~
<Imp> (( Figured - okeys... maybe Friday or Saturday morning I could. Anyways - you enjoy your time with him. We'll catch up whenever. =D
<Molot> :D
<Imp> ((Poke me if you have any inspirations for a name - I'll ponder on it, but you could probably name him if you'd like, seeing as how Ima would have x3
<Molot> She'd have likely allowed him to keep his birth-names, but had about half a dozen nicknames for 'im. XD))
<Imp> ((Oh... well - I figured being servants the family would've named them, but I guess he might have an imp name from his parents ^^a
<Imp> ((He'd want her to name him, but then.... dunno whether that would have flown or not ;D
<Molot> 'll think 'bout it. :3))
<Imp> ((Okey! I will try for inspiration as well, though I think I suck at naming x3
<Imp> ((*hugs tight* go to your El, now - have a great night ^_^

<MolotTheSemiConscious> Later that evening, they rested: under the heavy boughs of the firs, waiting out the brief summer rain, and staring out into the early darkness. It was a spacious little patch of evergreens- more then enough for the trio to spread out, and remain just barely out of eatshot of one another. It came as no surprise, then, that, after spending a bit of time in the silent company of the Onitsune, the redhead migrated to the side of <c>
<MolotTheSemiConscious> her employer and Cause, not to mention, Direction. "Plans?" The chance inquiry was a product of a good day's worth of marching, and puzzled tangle of thoughts.
* Alexandra_Dahn seemed uncharacteristically peaceful - well, almost. It was for her, at least... but the way her brow was knit and the quiet frown upon her face gave hint at the deep thinking taking place in her silent visage. She turned to arch a brow at Yurr lazily. A faint sneer of amusement accompanied an abrupt choke of a laugh, "Well! You're certainly to the point, at least... -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Can't I've any complaint with that." *She considered the woman with amused eyes.* ~
<Alexandra_Dahn> *Can't say
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "One's got to be." She replied, placidly, staring out into the coming dusk. The human seemed to have aged since their last meeting-- wrinkles of worry and an occasional gray hair were apparent enough. "Tis been a pretty strange trip. Not the happiest one, either. 'd rather be on a solid ground and -not- have ta be 'trained' into it, if ya catch my drift."
* Alexandra_Dahn made a face, some anger evident in the frown that went with it, at the implications suggested by the other. "It does sound like it, indeed... *She hesitated a second before beginning.* "I am sorry to do this, but - while I would like to simply leave the matter be and not ask you to speak of unpleasantries, I am afraid I must know at least -some- necessary information about your trials."
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Not much ta be spoken 'bout. Oni, there, went on a hiring spree for 'er old masters. She was diff'rent back then, you see." The gaunty pulled the gifted hat from her head, and stared down into it, instead. "..Dragged me out ta 'em. They did what they did. Killed a perfectly good picky, too..'fter a while, it only made sense ta do what they wanted. From dismemberin' corpses to peelin' taters. ... Then that therian wanted <c>
<MolotTheSemiConscious> an escort off.. asked Oni 'bout it. She said 'kay, and followed at a later date. Answers yer questions, m'lady?" By the look she was giving Alexandra, Yurr -was- expecting this information to suffice.
* Alexandra_Dahn listened quietly, only lifting a questioning brow once or twice, she nodded and seemed to understand. "Primarily, yes, though I may I inquire more as to this therian? Also, I do not quite know if I understand your... description of how she was different - is this something I should know about?" ~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Just a therian. Lord Adoriel's lost toy." An uncomfortable shrug indicated that the knight-wannabe was far from complacent about the position the said therian has occupied. "We left 'er at home. Safe. ... As for Oni's differences, she used ta not remember much of anything. Bright side? Could tell 'er same story, o'er and o'er. Dark side? 'bout everyting else. Nutter fixxed 'er, though. For better 'o worse."
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Lord Adoriel?" *Confusion laced her brow and she heaved a sigh, looking weary. "I do apologize, but I am afraid I still know so little of this land as of yet. You were most helpful in beginning to educate me previously, but even so I will apologize in advance for the fact that I likely to ask many such questions in the next few weeks. However, I would like for you to inform me, -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "- In order to alleviate this problem... for the next few days and more, as we travel and anytime we are not discussing something or working at tasks, I would like for you to brief me on matters of state, important figures, and so on... anything you can think of that might be important - or perhaps even not! ...Knowledge is vital. The more we have, the greater our power, ultimately."
* Alexandra_Dahn smiled a bit more then, regaining her confidence in spite of the brief frustration she'd expressed, "Also, I'm curious... what is this - story she told, that you speak of? If you'd be so kind as to enlighten me..."
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "An Archdemon. Hasn't been seen around for quite some time, thought to have left the Rune permanently." Explained the human, quietly. "As for yer other request, I will do my best.. though the knowledge 'ere" Here, she tapped at the side of her head. "Is far from recent." The last question brought a moment of hesitation-- a wonder, for the woman did like to talk. "Oni's stories're 'er own. Ask 'er, if ya want 'em."
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Hmm.. how -not recent- is it? Because, frankly, things only in the last five or so years are still -quite- useful... most power structures last far longer, and besides... if your knowledge and recollection of older history as well is relatively accurate, that could be -quite- nice. Human grudges and old wounds and grievances can last -quite- a long time... as do the memories of those -
<Alexandra_Dahn> - thinking themselves wronged." *She concluded with a sinister purse of lips that said the idea pleased her.* ~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Several months can make a helluva diff'rence, out 'ere. The older history.. can give ya what 've got, though you'd have to read up on the archives out in Geffen or Juno, to get the details." Yurr blinked, colorless lashes-fluttering over pale holes that served her for eyes. Neutrality was important, this much she knew. This much she threw out of the window for her god-forsaken Causes. "In any population, there're the poor, and the <c>
<MolotTheSemiConscious> unfortunate. Most 'o 'em aren't worth yer time 'nd resources."
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((*poor and unfortunate? -cuts off at 'there're the p-
<MolotTheSemiConscious> poor, and the <c>))
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Hmmm... I would tend to agree, though I -do- think that, perhaps, exploiting their vulnerability, frustrations at their station and ignorance, could be useful in large enough numbers." *She at first nodded her agreement and then considered thoughtfully, eyes bright with excitement at the possibilities.* ~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "It could be." The redhead agreed, without too much enthuseasm. Most of her attention was once again focused on that hat. Likely asking the same questions that haunted her for most of the way here. Is there a word to wake up? Who was Blue? Did everything truly go around and around, in a vicious circle.?
* Alexandra_Dahn considered the hat - and her charge's interaction with it with a mild, but perhaps less than thrilled, expression. The mournful sort of mood it seemed to bring was troublesome. The knightess nodded at the hat, "So what do you think of it, then? ...And its owner, for that matter." ~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Tis not a bad hat." She concluded, after some thought. "As for the owner.. dunno what ta make of 'im. Probably wouldn't see 'im again anyway, so what does it matter?" Another pause, as if for thought. "..'e said 'e knew me. Did'ja know 'im?"
* Alexandra_Dahn nods, calmly enough though there was death in her eyes - a cool, matter-of-fact sort of spite that was almost past anger in that moment. "I did. Long ago - He is a -wicked- man. He will play with your mind... do his best to twist you. It gives me -no- surprise that he was glad to bring back Chezuri's memory... no doubt he delighted in her pain." *The demonness gave a sigh,
<Alexandra_Dahn> 3"I am afraid I've not much more than that to tell you... you sound as if you do not know him - or how he knows you?" ~
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((*-3
* MolotTheSemiConscious shook her head in a negative, continuing to stare down at the hat in hand. "Yet an Oni that remembers and that is -driven-, is much preferable to the Oni that does not. ...And he did apologize. ... If that is evil, I do not know what is good. .."
<Alexandra_Dahn> *Her brow arched high at this, "Apologize? For what did he apologize, to be clear - bringing back her painful memories? ...Though it is not to say he might not merely -say- that, you know." *She gave a fairly unconcerned shrug. She was well aware that she strove be all that was -evil- to most, but it did not change her opinion that the Hammersmith was indeed a cruel, wicked man.* ~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "For cuttin' 'is head off, I think." A preplexed frown was born somewhere between the two bushy brows, to spread downward- to the nose, the cheeks, the lips. "Mayhaps 'm just delusional, but 'e doesn't -seem- evil. Just wish I knew what the fluff 'e was talkin' 'bout."
<MolotTheSemiConscious> ERR))
<MolotTheSemiConscious> Misspoke. He forgave her for cutting his head off.))
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Hmm.. well - you haven't seen him in action, perhaps... but surely he was fairly violent?" *She pondered and put her chin in her hand in a pensive pose. "Well - as I said, it was many, many years ago that I knew him! I -will- confess... his actions today quite surprised me. Normally, he'd have simply attacked me outright."~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "'e is violent. Ne'er been violent ta those with whom 'e travelled with, though. Not ta my notice." The frown deepened as she realized the complete off-track that the conversation has taken. "..So, 'nyway. Nutter's a nutter. What of us?"
* Alexandra_Dahn laughed in a musical sort of way - almost a happy sound. Occasionally, she would have moments that seemed quite genuine, and in this case she was quite honestly amused. "I see~! What an appropriate name for him... Well - we need to make plans, yes. These will be based on the knowledge I gather. We could start small, or - with enough intel - set something even larger into motion -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "The important thing, first off - is to see that we are continuously making progress. I should like to work on recruiting more assistance, for one. It might not hurt to have a few grunt soldiers, but more importantly, I will need to make contacts with some skilled individuals - magic and potion-making preferably, possibly someone skilled in stealth and espionage. We should choose-
<Alexandra_Dahn> " - a town to establish ourselves in, and also come up with a fortifiable and undiscovered retreat to hold more confidential activities in." ~
* MolotTheSemiConscious listened and nodded, in one or two places, before offering up an opinion. It was interesting to note that the annoying accent has once again fallen off, revealing a perfectly sensible, if a bit deep, tone of a musing philosophy-mongerer. "'d think that we'd want some sort of a formal front, both as a way of generating revenue and to keep certain unwanted individuals off our backs. Would certainly make recruiting easier, <c>
<MolotTheSemiConscious> give an excuse to have a concentration of professionals, whether they be in the arcane, the sciences, or other matters. Now, providing that you've an idea of what exactly you want to start, I could probably do the legwork on the startup costs and potential partners.. 's long 's ya keep 'n mind that one Yurr does -not- work well 'n a crowd inna long run." The accent? Was back.
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((certainly make recruiting- (cut off?
<MolotTheSemiConscious>  easier, <c>))
* Alexandra_Dahn was clearly quite pleased with this idea, nodding with bright approval in her eyes - she could only push the accent aside as a rather strange feature of her lieutenant which mattered little so long as the ideas were sensical and intelligent, "Yes! That is precisely it... I had wished to start up some sort of ring of influence, or supposed business connections -
<Alexandra_Dahn> " - We will need many resources, and a source of income furthermore... I had considered something perhaps along the lines of brute-forcing lower-level members and working our way up - although if it can be established more civilly, all the better for relations in the long run. *Didn't seem bothered at the first prospect, all the same.* "Regardless, perhaps the local merchant guild? -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "It could make for access to some skilled alchemists and such, as well as various supplies possibly; though frankly, I'm quite open to ideas. The more different skills it involves, the better; the more solid the front, the more efficint our disguise, as it were." ~
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((...dammit! I keep doing different numbers xD sorry
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Tis an idea. Though we'd have to struggle up against those already present in all towns worth settling in. The guilds already in place have the span of influences that we sorely need, and that we can neither buy or manhandle them out of, as small as we are at the present time." The hat was tucked into the travel-pack, probably to be stared at and mused over, at a later date. For now, things looked to be all-business. "..<c>
<MolotTheSemiConscious> ..'sides, correct me if 'm wrong, but Oni knows jack-shit 'bout market manipulation. ..And you don't look like you do, either, m'lady. No offence. ... .. Or, wait, are you proposing -taking over- a guild?" The incredulous look given to Alex indicated that Yurr did -not- think her capable of humbling herself before much of anyone.
* Alexandra_Dahn nods sagely in agreement, "Yes, we must consider our choice of targets carefully.. perhaps if we were to come into the right sort of damning information about a leading group member, it would be a good way to get our foot in the door. I, personally, don't have a problem with the use some force, but - if we began that way, it will likely simply have to continue on as such, and -
<Alexandra_Dahn> " we will be setting ourselves up for something possibly more difficult to maintain. *At the inquiry regarding the Onitsune's skills, she gave a softly derisive 'hmph!' at the idea, growing quiet again in regards to the comment of her own, "Well, quite simply...? No - but as for myself, I, at least, have some experience manipulating people. If the situation is clear to me, -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "I believe I could make a good start of things - if, howver, you feel that this is your specialty, I am glad to avail myself of it. I could likely help you much with the legwork - simply give me details regarding the ins and outs of the particular culture.. what was it you meant about the crowd?" ~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Working with a group larger than five or six tends to damage my performance. For one reason or another." This was accompanied by a sour smile-- the gaunty knew well -why-, but didn't feel like sharing that particular bit of personal history. "So, blackmail to get into an organization, limited use of force, and a slow digestion from the inside. That could go wrong in a thousand and one places, leaves ample room for human <c>
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((huma-
<MolotTheSemiConscious> human error, and.. allright, allright.." A bony hand was lifted in a calming gesture. "No more pessimism. Though, m'lady, something to think about: we'd still need to eat and sleep somewhere, while you work on acquiring the damning information, I read up on particulars of the trade, and Oni.. does whatever it is that Oni's are keen on doin'. Payon wasn't built in a day. What's a smaller set-up, that we could start on?"
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Not drugs, I don't think.. those burn through and burn out, as fads come and go.."
* Alexandra_Dahn ponders, nodding a bit and looking over at the trees, the sleeping or guarding Onitsune, nothing in particular, "Hmm... yes indeed - I will agree with you, there... Though perhaps would be useful as a very high-grossing money intake in the future, perhaps we could saddle it on the back of a more stable established business. While there will always be a -demand- for them, really, -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "- The industry is not conducive to gathering those of an intelligent mind togeth-...Ohh! Aha - I've an idea, now here... mind you, it is only an idea, *She gestured to the side with one hand as she said this,* and any ideas we have will require further investigation and work to perfect, -but-, perhaps if we were to, say, fabricate a research claim or something similar which -
<Alexandra_Dahn> " would appeal to those of scholarly nature? Such things tend to garner a good bit of cash, if desirable enough, and can involve a number of different experts, if properly chosen... we could find, perhaps, obscure reasons for needing various supplies from said merchant guild? And claim the need to protect the secrecy of the work and safety of our 'scientists' as a reason for guards...
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Hmm... mayhaps I can think of something related to home, which is vaguely magical in nature but unknown to this land?" *She mused the last half to herself.* ~
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((We should wrap up with the next few posts, mayhaps? =D
<MolotTheSemiConscious> Sure. 'll do that this post, if ya don't mind. :D))
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((Sounds fine.. Sorry 've gotten so wordy! xD Conciseness declines drastically with lateness of hour)
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Perhaps." She agreed, again without much obvious zeal. Yurr, of all people, knew where most of those drugs went, and exactly what they did to communities. Slums of Prontera were not a pretty sight. "A formation of some sort of a research institution, then?.. Well, one of my cousin's roommates does help with grant applications for a living.. We could start small, and if the subject of our study is vague and/or <c>
<MolotTheSemiConscious> uninteresting enough, avoid too much publicity in the very beginning. It would require a helluvalot background research, though, unless you've got an expert or two in mind already. It could work." With a nod to the velare, Yurr pulled the bedroll from the top of her travel-pack, and began working at the knots, which held it together. "Best sleep on it, ne?"
* Alexandra_Dahn nods placidly, "Indeed - I thank you for your input, and helping in formulating this. We must all find our ideal position in the working of its execution to see it through smoothly... Well - rest well, there is much to be done on the morrow! Though I've not anyone in mind yet, incidentally, I do recall a thing or two about magic, myself. Perhaps something will come to me -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "We -will- find something, rest assured. He will present it to us when the time is right, or we will discover it... Would you like the next watch or early morning?" *She stretched and began to make her sleeping spot as comfortable as ground could manage to be.* ~
<MolotTheSemiConscious> "Ey. Heads up." She'd wait until Alexandra looked up, before tossing the still sausaged-up bedroll in her direction. "It sounds like you've got some thinking to do, and we all know that that's easier on a well-cushioned bum."

<Spot|Yurr> 'll set.))
<Spot|Yurr> Shortly and crappily.))
<Hammersmith> ()So, fun fact.  When adjusting for Daylight savintgs, adjust ALL house clocks.  I thought I had 15 minutes
<Meda> ((SURE YOU DID. lol))
<Helios|Onitsune> (( XD ))
<Loke> ((ohshi-))
<Spot|Yurr> And so there was the party, hanging about in one of the least couth establishments in a little town beside a bigger town.. the same bigger town into which a certain ageless knight was sent for an alcohol run. Yurr wasn't too sure about the others, but she was giving whittling lessons to a rather intoxicated floozy. Whittling? Whitting? Witting? Whatever that wood-carving thing was.
<Helios|Onitsune> (( We're missing Guen. ))
* Guen|Aboutish has joined #stuff
<Spot|Yurr> And so there was the party, hanging about in one of the least couth establishments in a little town beside a bigger town.. the same bigger town into which a certain ageless knight was sent for an alcohol run. Yurr wasn't too sure about the others, but she was giving whittling lessons to a rather intoxicated floozy. Whittling? Whitting? Witting? Whatever that wood-carving thing was.
* Hammersmith is now known as Martyr
<Faith> And the crazy one just sat there talking nonsense to herself at the bar.  She giggled slightly, her clothes a muddy mess from travelling, but frankly, it didn't look like she noticed.  She just kept muttering.  "Time and tide, tide and time."
<Martyr> The man, if you could call him that.  Half naturist, as he still refused a shirt, was argueing, without a chair this time, with the bartender about what you could and couldn't put apples into
<Meda> Meda would be by herself, a mug of ale in one hand and she'd play with a necklace around her neck with the other, keeping whatever was on said necklace in her own view. She'd sip every once in awhile, occasionally glancing up at the one arguing at the bar.
* Helios|Onitsune has quit IRC (Connection reset by peer)
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* Helios|Onitsune is now known as Dove
* Guen|Aboutish is now known as Alexandra_Dahn
* Dove is now known as Helios|Onitsune
<Meda> ((Anyone postin'?))
<Martyr> (did someone catch up dove?
<Spot|Yurr> Yes?))
<Helios|Onitsune> :: The Onitsune with a new guest accompanying her, returned to the aforementioned smaller town carrying the large crate of alcoholic orders listed by her travelling companions. Soon enough they arrived, and the knightess deposited the heavy crate of bottles on the table before Meda, unceremoniously. ::
<Spot|Yurr> Since Nisha quit, apparently we're assuming that the town's the one in which Alex was dropped off successfully.))
<Martyr> The martyr was now playing bartender, mixing things what should not be wrought in a wooden stien.
<Meda> Meda would jump in her seat, spilling a bit of her ale as she shoved her necklace down her shirt, a bit spooked by the sudden crate that was down on front of her. "Ohh... you're back... weee!~" The mug would be set on the table and she'd start to dig through the box, glancing up at the person that came back with Mrs. Grumpypants. "New friend?"
* Alexandra_Dahn strolled in behind the other knightess, chin held high and bearing her usual Dahn hauteur. She seemed quite pleased with herself at the moment, in fact, and was smiling like a predatory cat. Her eyes swept over the room to take in the scene with a calcuating gaze; -
<Martyr> "Is it good booze, or more of t'backwater water..."  Stien's shouldn't smoke, but this one had metal fittings...
<Alexandra_Dahn>  -however, her appraisal paused on a certain dangerous individual, a chilly neutrality sweeping her features as she raised a manicured brow at the sight.* ~
<Martyr> The man hadn't looked up, and hadn't noticed.
* Spot|Yurr looked away for one second, a trace of relief-showing itself over the Oni-sighting. ... As well as one of her past employer. Apologizing in that brief and ineffective way that she had, the knight-wannabe made her way to the rallying point of alcohol stash. And saluted to the pleased-as-punch one.
<Spot|Yurr> First words out of her mouth: "Can explain, but it ain't gonna do a lick of good."
<Faith> Faith just laughed softly as she looked from person to person.  "Pompous and proud, pointlessly prudent...  But mostly.  Pointless."  She grinned like the cheshire cat as she spoke.
<Meda> "Good stuff it seeeeems." She'd pull out a bottle and look at the label, brushing a bit of her freshly dyed blue hair out of her face. "Get over here and let's try it out!" She'd look over at the Martyr and quirk a brow. "... that doesn't look like it's good for you."
* Alexandra_Dahn sneered silently at the Martyr's back but said nothing, offering an expression of intrigued recognition at the sight of Yurr. She paced ever so patiently, calmly making her way over towards the table with all of the action taking place, though she held back a little. Just waiting.* ~
* Spot|Yurr peeked over Meda's shoulder, squinting down at the label. Huh. So tar-reinforced tequila -could- be found this far north. Wonders of globalization.
<Faith> Faith seemed to watch Alexandra as she sat there.  Grinning ear to ear.
<Helios|Onitsune> :: The Onitsune cleared her throat, frowning. :: "...Well. This is Lady Alexandra of the Dahn Clan. An ancient and deeply-rooted clan, known well amongst the velare community." :: She explained, her tone--unreadable. Strangely. Her face was hidden behind helm and iron cain. ::
<Martyr> "...It ain't -supposed- t'be good fer yez.  S'the point of getting fucking schlockered yeh?"  The metal was poor quality, and long since gone by this point.  It was at Oni's tone that the man turned, mug in hand, hat pulled down over one part of his face, just an empty hole filled with sharp shards of a crushed eye socket lining it like teeth
* Alexandra_Dahn frowned at Faith and seemed to more or less sidmiss her as, well, a crazy sort. She'd had enough of those for one day, besides. While the continued observation -did- earn the girl a distrusting sidelong glance, that was all for the moment. She procured a mildly pleasant expression and looked Yurr over briefly, "Hmm... I see that are well, I trust, Yurr e'Chire?" -
<Faith> Faith just grinned and shook her head.  "Always more Velare.  Closer we dance to oblivion's edge~"
* Alexandra_Dahn turned a honey-sweet smile in the Onitsune's direction and inquired with a casual air (though the woman would likely recognize the waiting venom lurking there beneath the surface), "Is there anything you would care to tell me about your companions, Chezuri?" ~
<Faith> "Deceit, lies, twisted tales~"
<Meda> "I'm ready to get schlockered!" She'd gulp down the rest of her ale and open the bottle in hand, holding it over her mug, but... well, the mug waas way too bring. "... and bring me a proper glass, eh?" She'd look up at Chezuri and quirk a brow. "You know you're -inside- right? Why so overdressed?"
<Alexandra_Dahn> *That you are well (-stabs Murphy the word thief)
<Faith> "Not all wish to be naked on tables~"  Giggle.
<Meda> ((*big, not bring. about the mug.))
<Spot|Yurr> "A lil kidnapping, a lil forced servitude, and a lil gang of crazies. Nothing one can't handle, m'lady." She glanced down at Meda, but, deciding that the proper glass comment was directed at -someone- else, ignored it.
<Martyr> The man merely raised his mug to Faith's comment and nocked it back in one, long, predatory drink
<Helios|Onitsune> :: Grinding her unseen teeth, she shifted her head toward the one behind the bar. :: "...They are all of their own backgrounds. If you wish to know more of them, I would advise speaking to them individually...My Lady." :: She managed that last bit in a much quieter tone. ::
<Faith> "Servant's wishes, servant's heart, all well and good until you realize you serve every will but your own~  Learn to live without orders or learn to live in shackles~ Kekekeke" Faith laughed again and went to stick out a glass to Hammer's concoction of death.
<Meda> Meda would tap her fingers waiting for the Martyr to bring her a smaller glass! Chop chop! She'd keep eying the overdressed one and her new friend though.
* Alexandra_Dahn seemed to be primarily ignoring the two over at the bar - though her eyes did indeed graze them at brief intervals with a cool expression. A facet of true surprise lit her amber orbs at Yurr's answer, "Oh my, is that so? ...Sounds most unpleasant, indeed." -
<Alexandra_Dahn> *She shook her head and pulled up a chair, locking her eyes upon Chezuri's face at the woman's answer with silent displeasure evident in the icy void behind her polite veneer. "...Hmmm. I do not the truth of it."
<Spot|Yurr> "It had its pluses and minuses." Replied the gaunty philosophically, perching on an convenient stool, looking back and forth between the Onitsune and her 'guest'. "What will ya have of us now?" The question appeared to be directed to Alexandra.
<Faith> "Skin deep beauty, skin deep lies.  Skin deep honesty, skin deep it dies."  The crazy laughed.
<Helios|Onitsune> :: The suit of armor continued to stand there, albeit stiffly. No real words spared, no real opinions to be had. For the time being. ::
<Alexandra_Dahn> *do not doubt the truth of it
<Faith> "Fools are we who cannot see, fools are we who see too much~"
<Meda> "... you people are totally joy kills." She'd stand and walk around the table and make her way to the bar, grabbing the liquor box as she walked over there, taking a bottle and leaving it down for Yurr. She'd sit in a stool and lean over the bar to whisper to Martyr. "They're like an -army.- It'll ruin my buzz."
<Faith> "What is joy but a fleeting memory?"
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Hmmm. You will have to tell me more about it later - if you wish." *At the final question, a delighted expression touched the demoness' features, faint though the emotion showed. "I am pleased to hear that you will accompany us! We shall leave soon, though I am not sure if Chezuri has any unfinished business which remains to be tended to..."
* Alexandra_Dahn lounged quite casually, content to be patient - for the moment.*~
<Helios|Onitsune> :: Waiting a prolonged moment, the Onitsune finally broke out the thing weighing down on her mind. :: "I will be joining Lady Dahn...as she requires my assistance. I owe her family as much." :: Then, to Alexandra. :: "My Lady...Yurr does not have to come if she does not...wish to."
<Martyr> The man dropped his mug onto the bar, empty.
<Martyr> "I ain't keepin her if she ain't running with.  Where're yez goin te?"
<Faith> Faith just laughs to herself, grabs a bottle, and drinks~
<Spot|Yurr> "Actually, 'm already under 'er." She nodded thanks to Meda. The bottle stood there like a pillar of all sin-- stood, untouched. "Dahn, that is. Told'ja about that chess game, didn't I, Oni?"
<Martyr> "Oh you silly twit.  Never changes does it.  Please tell me yez didn't get in a get nothin deal fer a fuckin pawn swap."  The man's grin was full of needles.
<Meda> Meda would lean over the bar in a very unladylike fashion and grab a smaller glass to pour her shot into. "Well if she's going with her, then we can go do what we gotta do. Leave as early as tonight since we're all settled." Shot time! She'd have a small little grin on her face for no reason in particular.
* Alexandra_Dahn quirked a brow at Chezuri's address - Possibly in mild reproval at what might have been seen as an admonishment on the Onitsune's part towards her. "It was she herself who offered, my dear Chezuri - I would not -dream- of imposing~!" *She purred this insidiously, offering Yurr a faint nod at the mention of said chess game. Still ignoring Martyr.* ~
<Spot|Yurr> "-Before- ye've kindly hit me o'er the head and dragged by foot across the continent?" There was a definite edge of annoyance in gaunty's voice. Glancing over at Nutter, she mouthed something along the lines of "Yer talking to -me-?", accompanying that with a raised eyebrow. Or two. Make that two.
<Faith> "They all swap pawns~  Sad to say that nobody thinks~"
<Helios|Onitsune> :: Too much going on inside her head, now that she had all those goddamn memories back. With a respectful bow to Alexandra, she moved to leave...and stand outside in silence. ::
<Meda> Meda would pour herself another shot, glancing over at Faith. "... I take it you're going to weasel your way into coming with us, eh?"
<Spot|Yurr> The first statement was, indeed, directed to Onitsune.. prior to her abrupt departure.
<Faith> "Where else would I go?  Besides, so many interesting thoughts~"
* Alexandra_Dahn rose curtly without further preamble. " 'Twould seem that our companion is indeed ready to depart. If you are ready as well, then, Yurr? I bid you all a good day." *She nodded to the other three with a bored and mutely disdainful expression.* ~
<Faith> "Best of luck on your journey to Hell~"
<Martyr> "Lelia yer mum?  Or some distant name in yer tree lady?"
<Martyr> Was the parting shot from the bar and an empty mug
<Meda> Meda would turn with the glass to her lips and give the newcomer a nice little halfassed salute. "Hope you guys have fun with... whatever it is that you all do."
<Helios|Onitsune> :: Thank the gods the Onitsune was outside and thus unable to hear Leila's name uttered. ::
* Alexandra_Dahn arched a superior brow at Faith - fully understanding what was implied, she instead turned a decidedly disappointed look upon the strange one, "Unfortunately, I'm afraid I've not the chance to visit often." *Mournful sigh.* -
<Faith> "Lies flow from the serpent's mouth~  What makes you think that was any different~"
<Martyr> The man tipped the bamboo hat off his good eye.  One mad...red, slit pupil boring into Alexandra's skull.
<Spot|Yurr> "Looks like this's a good-bye, guys. I hears Hell's peachy, this time of the year." And with that chirpy little farewell, the redhead retrieved the travel-pack from under an adjacent table, the carving knife- from the floozy, and moved towards the exit-- as well as early demise, and quite possibly Cause, and Purpose.
* Alexandra_Dahn flicked a gaze upon the champion drinking contestant to have frozen the shades themselves, though her outward expression was simply a chilly, even facade. With a haughty-sounding 'hmph' she gave only a curt response before turning her back with finality. "You are a -fool-. Ha! How the mighty have truly fallen~." ~
<Faith> "Fools with more foolish following~"  Bowing politely to Alex.
<Martyr> "Yez forget yer mum kid?  Simple quick.  Had a few of m'own elsewherewhen.  Know it hurts yez both when the kid ain't around.  So why arn't yez with em kid."
<Martyr> The grin turned to an ugly....strange, serpentine smile.
<Martyr> That wasn't part of the memory.  There was something -else- in there and it was unsettling.
<Meda> Meda's brows would raise as she took another shot. La de dah. She really had no idea what these people were talking about, and she didn't -want- to know.
<Faith> Faith began to think...  A lot.
* Alexandra_Dahn truly hadn't changed much in all the years, really. Unfortunately for the taunting, leering evil eye though, perhaps she had learned just a little something after all. While a faint frown might flicker across her features, her stride was purposeful and unbroken - the only backward glance a sidelong one of basic, simplistic caution. She paused long enough for Yurr to catch up, nothing more.* ~
<Faith> "Wrath and rage.  Anger and hate.  Blood for blood.  By the Gallon."
<Martyr> "No other sell volume lady.  No other sell volume.  'Scuse me a sec you two."
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Mmmm...~ Sounds pleasant!" *She half-purred in parting shot as the strange one's musing met her ears.*
<Martyr> The large fellow would drop the mug on the bar and wander outside after the harem.
<Meda> Meda would start to hum, glancing over at Faith. "... so are you capable of having normal conversation or do you only say strange cryptic things?"
* Spot|Yurr was outside already, hanging out with the ever-quiet knightess and commenting on the label of the bottle, that Meda so kindly left out for her personal use. The one-person consensus was? Counterfeit.
<Helios|Onitsune> :: The Onitsune was still standing outside facing the road in silence, unseen face glaring at the beaten path. Yurr's words were heard, but for the moment left unacknowledged. ::
<Spot|Yurr> Thankfully, one-sided conversations were something that Yurr was quite used to.
<Martyr> Since the Martyr didn't bother with formalitys, the bottles was in hand and in mouth quickly enough
<Faith> Faith grit her teeth a moment...  Trying to focus hard for a second...  "I.. can talk...  Sometimes...  It's... Hard in here...  So many... people...  And thoughts..."
<Faith> Faith took another drink.
<Spot|Yurr> "... Ever heard of 'em 'social formal'ties'? Like asking if peoples pitched in to acquire that?"
<Spot|Yurr> That, to the nutter at hand.
* Alexandra_Dahn turned once outside to take up a cautious stance, hearing a snatch of the man's parting address and, more importantly - footsteps. She turned towards them, positioning herself carefully near the other two but with some room.*
<Meda> "Well, just tune them out." Meda would pour another shot, giving a little hiccup. "Hum a song in your head."
<Faith> Faith... began to softly hum a tune to herself...  At first out loud...  And then, quietly began singing softly to herself...  As she did this, she began to look a lot less frantic...  "Music...  So simple...  Why hadn't I thought of that..."
<Martyr> "Why?  S'crap ennyway.  Though still worth a blurreyed night.  Now.  Lemme get this strait.  Yez three are gonna go an do sommat really fucking stupid, aintchez?"
<Martyr> The man dropped a lighter bottle into Yurr's hands
<Spot|Yurr> "'Pends. Define 'stupid'."
<Helios|Onitsune> :: The suit of armor turned with heavy clanking footsteps to face the Martyr, face, still obscured behind a veil of iron. Waiting for possibly ...a command. Or maybe nothing at all. ::
<Alexandra_Dahn> "I do not -do- stupid things." *She answered quite simply, icy gaze boring into the enemy with chill unyielding.*
<Meda> "See? You think I'm dumb~" She'd grin and tap her forehead. "I've got some good ideas in there."
<Faith> "Well, it's frustrating when you FORCEFULLY think of having sex with Damek...  Though, did you seriously do all that with him?"  Faith giggled lightly humming a bit as she spoke, her voice almost somewhat sing-song...  It was a bit jarring... but the thoughts were coming out somewhat lucidly. 
<Martyr> "Sure yez do.  An you, and double fer you."  The man hooked a thumb at Yurr offhandedly and then at Chezuri.
<Martyr> "She know yez ain't a fucking puppet in the brain right now?"
<Spot|Yurr> Seeing that the conversation was progressing quite well without her intervention, the gaunty sniffed at the interiors of the lightened bottle, suspiciously.
<Martyr> Said bottle smelled suspiciously of brimstone now.
<Meda> Meda would bite her lip and grin, glancing over as she pourd herself another shot. That was enough of an answer.
<Helios|Onitsune> :: Waiting and watching. Watching and waiting. I'm sorry, she thought in the Martyr's general direction; I'm bound now by something more complicated than a simple blank slate. A gauntlet-plated hand rested on one of many weapon pommel's lining either side of her waist and back. In this instance, it was on the right side of her hip. ::
* Alexandra_Dahn sighs and fixes a mildly irritated frown upon him, "We're not here to waste time discussing such nonesense - did you come out
to plaaay, Hammer? Or may we -leave-." *She taunted in a lilting voice as she questioned about the first, then it turned into a mocking sneer of one who knows the other can do naught to stop them.*
<Alexandra_Dahn> ((I mean - she can dream, ya know.))
<Martyr> "Yez wanna play?  S'a first where one of the Dahn's wanted a one on one scrap w'me.  S'what yez saying, or it the usual empty kid talk I know and love Alex?"
<Martyr> The man pulled on his gloves, tightening the leather over large hands.
<Faith> Faith giggled at that and shook her head.  "Wow, adventurous...  What's it like to be with someone you care about so much?"  She smiled sighing lightly as she took the rest of the bottle down.
<Spot|Yurr> "Bad idea, Nutter." Yurr placed the suspect bottle on a convenient windowceil. No threatening moves were made, but the longsword was where it always was, same with that featureless shield.. and if it did come down to a scuffle, three to one odds weren't the greatest a lunatic could have.
<Martyr> " 'Ey now red.  I asked if she wanted one on one.  Thing is, I know that ain't ever happened before, ain't gonna happen now.  Less she draws steel, it ain't a duel."
<Alexandra_Dahn> *Again with the arched brow. She stood with hand on her hip, already at the ready but made no move to draw. "I believe I've stated quite clearly already that I have no interest in wasting my time with you. Though I might point out that one of us has, indeed, wanted a one on one with you in the past. Regardless -
<Martyr> "None worth the blood in thier veins.  Mebee I shoulda specified." 
<Martyr> The man's grin wasn't a comforting thing.
<Meda> "Absolutely..." She'd pause, lifting the glass up to her eyes to look at the liquid inside. "Amazing. Really is. Been decades since I've settled down. Not that I'm like... settled settled... still on the road, but..." She'd take out the necklace and play with the two rings that were around the chain. "The heart. Settled. And stuff... cheesey right?" Good comparison to the fight <c>
<Alexandra_Dahn>  *Her speech hitched as she took a moment to look him over a moment as if considering. A frown of consideration but then an annoyed sigh.* "...Unfortunately, I've really not the time to waste. A pity. 'Twould be time well spent." *Sneer.*
<Meda> talk outside.
<Martyr> "All the time in the world lady.  All the time in the world.  Somehow I dun think Lady Lelia's goan much of ennywhere.  What's a few slaps on yer ass gonna cost yez other than that aristocratic pride yez love t'tote."
<Martyr> The grin spread again.
<Helios|Onitsune> :: The armored wall quaked, silently. ::
<Faith> "I've...  Never felt such peace...  I've felt all sorts of things.  Not that.  But, ya know, all this drink makes everything a lil easier."
* Alexandra_Dahn harumphs with a mild huff of indignation. "You -do- realize your little insults are just empty words, don't you? And might I add, it was -you- who offered a fight, not I. I merely inquired into your average tendencies." *A haughty, condescending curl of the lip.* ~
<Martyr> "Nothin ventured, nothin earned kid.  Yez can't best me yez ain't gonna be able t'take on much of anything."
<Martyr> The man removed his hat and held it over his chest, shaking out dirty grey hair, long, twisted, tangled.
<Meda> "Don't drink too much. It'll make everything cloudy." Ant that she took another shot.
<Faith> She smiled and nodded softly.  "I'll try n remember~"
* Alexandra_Dahn teased lightly, "Hmm? Oh - does that mean you've gotten ruuusty?" *With a simpering sort of tone near the end.*
<Spot|Yurr> "Need I say that ya both're acting thick-skulled? I need not." The woman propped up the doorframe, still making no move to assist, but feeling increasingly unsettled by the situation.
<Helios|Onitsune> :: Iron soldier, conflicted and emotionally fatigued, still waited. No command was given, so she had no reason to yet move from her position. Poised, like a statue. ::
<Martyr> "Always Red.  Always." The bloodied red eye moved from Alexandra to over her shoulder into Oni's head.()c
<Meda> "And keep humming when it gets bad. Then you won't be plagued with badthoughts."
<Martyr> "Yez laid yer paths.  I can't say I like em.  I can't say they arn't unfucking believably familer.  Yez ask, I help.  Everybody gets one.  More than most get."
<Martyr> (0e
<Faith> "Hum.."  She smiled softly...  "Who knows... Maybe I can sing sometime...  that'd be nice..."
* Alexandra_Dahn shot an appraising glance at the talkative one of her charges, then back at the greasy old 'un. A faint sneer painted her lips. "Very well - it seems I am inconveniencing my companions. Though, frankly, I'd really -love- to get the dirty work out of the way... I've much to do." *With a lackadaisical, jeering half-salute. -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "-Don't- get in my way, old man. If you make me regret this, I'll see your end, as I should."
Spot|Yurr is now known as Yurr
* Helios|Onitsune is now known as Onitsune
<Meda> "Wonder what the serious bunch is doing out there..." She'd glance at the door and tap her fingers on the bar. "If they're leaving, then we can all nap and get to Kiel as early as tonight. Get this ball rolling. Wasted enough time waiting around."
<Yurr> "So start helpin'." Muttered the Yurr, reaching out to snag the waterskin from the side of the stone-still Onitsune and weighting its half-empty bulk in one hand. "..wonder if we could get the Whitey to share some of her box.."
<Faith> "We might wanna get these fellows to all break up for the night..."
<Onitsune> :: The Onitsune did not move when Yurr snagged her waterskin, continuing to remain in her pre-battle stance. ::
<Martyr> "Ain't doin this fer you kid.  You ain't my kid, was never my problem t'bring you right.  Yer mum dun fucked that up.  Not the first or last she'd ever do.  Trust me.  I gave her a chance to raise you sane and fucking normal.  She pissed it."
<Martyr> That mad red eye turned back to Alexandra, horrible things burning in the depths.
<Meda> "Ehh, I'm not getting invovled with all that. I just want to find out where Morose is and find Maeglin. I'll wait until he gets back. Then a nap and we'll be on our way."
<Yurr> Alcohol? or Cause? Or alcohol? Damn these decisions.
<Faith> "Maeglin...  She smiled warmly at that thought."
* Alexandra_Dahn had seen Hell. There were some very not-nice people there, really, when you thought about it! Sure, Hammer's gaze was unsettling... but she was both arrogant and determined. Furthermore, she had... certain thoughts to keep that pleased 'cat-that-ate-the-cream' smile on her face. She threw back her head an laughed at his comments, -
<Alexandra_Dahn> "Ha! My mother did one thing -right- at least. You'd hardly know anything about that, of course. Well, very well then. Go back to your drinking and human past-times - Ladies? We'll be on our way. Good day and good riddance.~" *One last, wicked glance at the Hammersmith where he might chance to glimpse all the truly vile things passing through her mind about him.-
<Alexandra_Dahn> * And with that, she turned on her heel to go. Enough wasted time.* ~
<Yurr> No alcohol, then. Long live the Cause.
<Onitsune> :: There was an invisible, seething glare behind that helm obscuring the Onitsune's eyes...following Alexandra as she turned to leave. A snort of breath escaped her nose, the armored figure slowly lurching to fall into step behind the Dahn. ::
<Martyr> "I'll always remember her cryin in Aldebaran square kid.  The one time she was ever honest."  That bloodied eye hit Chezuri and Yurr square between.  A word.  Or no word.  A choice.  One not his to make.  So the hat was dropped onto Yurr's head.  A ragged nail *pinked* against Chezuri's helm.
<Meda> "Mm, I'll find 'im! ... I hope." She'd shrug and pour herself another shot. "One more drink to get me nice and sleepy. I'll get yelled at if I'm completely sloshed."
<Martyr> "I used t'give people chances.  Some of em damn good.  Some of them damn ugly in the circumstance.  No one ever chose t'stay home.  No one ever chose t'be happy.  Dun get killed.  I expect yez t'live through this t'learn better."
<Martyr> The Martyr turned inside to the inn, stareing down at Meda with a look that would slaughter livestock
<Faith> "Nobody's lookin~"  Faith giggled as she poured herself a shot and one for Meda...  She would offer to cheers the shotglasses.
<Yurr> Restoring the waterskin to its proper place, after which the third member of the split-off group was, apparently, ... gifted with a hat. Hopefully, it didn't have too much lice in it. "Live what'cha teach." Was the laconic reply to the serenade.
<Meda> "The hub-..." She'd blink a few times as she looked at Martyr, brow quirked. "What'd I do now?"
<Onitsune> :: Simmer. Simmer. The talk of Leila only summoned the worst of rage that lingered within the ancient soul, graves clanking with each heavy footfall. The nail that *pink'd!* against her helm was given no fleeting acknowledgement. ::
<Onitsune> (( greaves* ))
<Martyr> "T'look fer yez kid.  The pikers are on thier way.  Rest 'em where they stand."
<Martyr> The Martyr spat to the side and closed the single red eye, just staring back at Meda with the shard-ringed crushed eyesocket
<Faith> Faith downed the first shot, and as Meda didn't touch hers...  Faith did the double.  She turned to the Martyr with a slight grin.
* Alexandra_Dahn snickered idly and nodded, "-Indeed-." *At Yurr, as she set a quick pace and they made their way towards town's edge.* ~
<Meda> "Sounds perfect to me." She'd jump off of her stool and roll her head. "We going with our original plan? We can all -cuddle- in that case."
<Yurr> And so the trio departed for quarters unknown.. likely to cross paths with the others, and even more likely to do some things that all of them would later regret.
<Faith> "You know~  You're fulla anger~"  To the Martyr...  Someone seemed awful lucid and intoxicated.
* Yurr is now known as Molot
<Martyr> "S'one way a'puttin it."  The red eye flicked open again, rolling down out of the man's skull to rest on Meda.  It was an ugly looking
esture, and it was paired with a horrific movement where the man's fist buried itself in the wood door frame.  The scent of blood and cracking bone acompanied the sound of splitting and crating wood.
<Meda> "What the fuck is wrong with you? They didn't like your plan for them? People have to make their own mistakes. Let go." She'd look around, just realizing now that... the bartender wasn't in sight to pay for the drinks they had before the quiet one got back with the booze and her new friend. Where had Martyr put him?
<Martyr> "I let em go.  Doens't mean I have t'like it. S'a line between bein mortal and bein a pretentious fuck. Still havin feelin's part of it.  Dun get that confused Ms. I used to be a fucking Radient."
<Martyr> The martyr pulled his hand out of the door frame and peeled the leather glove off the hand,
<Martyr> There was a lovley joint popping sound with that motion, bloodied red eye looking at swollen knuckle and limp finger.

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[22:27] <Molot> Yurr: *Turning the hat over in her hands* ".. Ay, Oni?"
[22:27] <Onitsune> Oni: *Silence.*
[22:28] <Molot> Yurr: *Looks up from it, trying to catch even a glimpse of the others' expression behind that cain*
[22:29] <Dove> Oni: *Icy silver can be seen coldly smoldering behind slits in the lowered helm from such close proximity during their walk.*
[22:29] <Molot> Yurr: *Shivers a bit, before lowering her eyes to the cloth garment between her fingers*. "..What did Nutter say to wake you up, anyway?"
[22:30] <Dove> Oni: "Leila Dahn." *Was her dark, hushed reply.*
[22:30] <Molot> Yurr: ".. Wonder if everyone's got one."
[22:31] <Dove> Oni: *Silence.*
[22:31] <Molot> Yurr: "A name to wake up ta."
[22:33] <Dove> Oni: *More silence. And a gauntlet-plated hand moving to envelop one belonging to a red-head.*
[22:35] <Molot> Yurr: *Gave the armored hand a squeeze, still looking more at the hat in the free hand, than the ground below* "That'd be nice."
[22:36] <Dove> Oni: *The squeeze was returned, silence continuing.*
[22:37] <Molot> Yurr: "...Wouldn't it?"
[22:38] <Dove> Oni: "You would think so."
[22:38] <Molot> Yurr: "Ya don't?"
[22:39] <Dove> Oni: "It was bittersweet, and shortlived. Left me empty and alone."
[22:41] <Molot> Yurr: ".. Remember that mechanism 'o fate thingie we talked 'bout, a long time ago?"
[22:41] <Dove> Oni: *A nod.*
[22:42] <Molot> Yurr: "..Mebbe other people fit into it, too. Mebbe, everyone constructs their own."
[22:43] <Dove> Oni: *Shrug. Silence.*
[22:45] <Molot> Yurr: *Pulls the hat back onto her head, still holding on to that cold hand of Chezuri's* "Ey. For what it's worth, yer never alone."
[22:46] <Dove> Oni: "...And for that, I thank you."
[22:47] <Molot> Yurr: "Will curse me, soon 'nuff." *That, with a smile.*
[22:47] <Dove> Oni: *And...more silence.*
[22:48] <Molot> Yurr: *And silence, it was.*