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Showing content with the highest reputation on 03/14/2019 in all areas

  1. 6 points
    attackers: samael, ephah, rami | city of apolypse The storm approaches. Ephah watches from the belltower, a silent harbinger gazing down over the city of Apolypse and its restless sleep, shuddering clouds passing over and blotting out the vibrant brightness of the sun, rays streaming down tainted with shadowy intent. The storm approaches. They merely await its encroaching siren call. Beside her, the young boy observes the quiet with a steady eye, fingers absentmindedly resting on the hilt of the sword strapped to his hip, the amulet clamped around his neck like a vice faintly glowing sickly green in the lowlight. From this distance, Ephah can already feel the hunger bubbling in the air, an aura of sorrow and grief and all things devastating emanating from that weapon named Heartbane. It chills her to the core, but not quite dampening the excitement streaking through her veins, the crimson tide calling to her in wild exhilaration. She, too, is hungry for such desolation. “What are we doing here,” the other man with the mop of golden sand hair on his head complains, inevitably bored out of his mind at the fact that nothing is happening, not yet. Rami is not quite the picture-perfect image of an ideal Paragon—too riotous, too larger-than-life, too jovial—but underneath that bright disposition lies a stone-cold killer, where the sun cannot reach. She has long since stopped underestimating her fellows and what they are capable of. “Twiddling our thumbs together?” “Waiting,” replies Samael, and that emotionless death in his eyes can frighten even the most steadfast of killers, Ephah being no exception. She had heard of what he had suffered at the hands of the Commander, and how Lilith had succeeded in breaking him into this—this callous, unfeeling soldier. The Lunar Soldier, in fact; they call him by that name now, and the boy seems not to care one iota either way, not when his success rate is so damned high, his kill count now amounting to the hundreds and thousands. Today, they seek to add more to that list, and with countless lives ready for the reaping, Ephah can look beyond the fact that this boy has not even reached his double digit years, and already, he holds a powerful artifact in his grasp, thoroughly positioned at the Commander’s side. Had she been a lesser individual, she would have felt jealous. Rami is not convinced by the succinct answer he is granted, but otherwise does not answer; he too knows his place in this hierarchy. Together, they wait, and watch, and wait. A wail rises up from the edges of town. Rami stumbles to his feet; Ephah looks up from her study of her veins stark against her pale skin; Samael narrows his gaze. The storm has come. They move as one, swift and silent, and descend upon the town in dark trails of shadowy smoke. Apolypse will be theirs for the picking.
  2. 5 points
    Looks like we might still have some continuations of story here! I’m extending the closing of the thread by one week, everyone who still wants to post in Furthest Point can do so! Look out for the initial announcement of the next event that I’ll put up this weekend.. I’ll tag everyone who’s been active in the current thread!
  3. 5 points
    Alright, as y'all know I've been scarce the past see several weeks. Rest assured I'm still here as bad haven't forgotten yaw. Expect to see new content soon'ish.
  4. 5 points
    Wrong turn During their time in the labyrinth, Luis had been getting to know the strange alter ego that was living inside of him. This darker presence inside of him seemed cordial, somewhat outgoing even as they were able to hold a conversation just by thought alone. Something about this...this thing simply didn't seem right to Luis though, beyond even the basic assumption that it was, in many ways, an evil entity. What is your name? Luis wondered idly, taking a left towards a corridor he hoped would get him to the exit much quicker. You can call me- That's not what I asked, he said internally. What is your name? That's not how this is gonna work, buddy. I'm not just gonna give you my name so you can work that magic on me, oh no. Don't forget, I've been learning all the same stuff you have in your little classes, so everything you know about trying to subjugate spirits is locked up tight in my mind. A frustrating notion, but one he would have to accept in order to continue facilitating a working relationship. That's right, friend. If we're gonna survive, you're gonna have to trust me on this. I do a lot better without someone trying to micromanage me. Luis certainly wasn't pleased knowing that a demon had unfettered access to his thoughts and senses, but he had shown he was willing to help the young wizard out at times. Whether it was to actually help Luis survive, or more likely, to make sure that he stayed alive, they were now in this together, for better or for worse. If I can't know your real name, Luis conceded, then what can I call you? Nietchze has a nice ring to it. That's what you can call me, buddy old pal of mine. Rolling his eyes, Luis committed the name to his memory, turning another corner, only to freeze still in fear. Just beyond the threshold, a Vizzerdrix lay sleeping, the very same one who had tried to kill him earlier. Just as Luis took a step back, it's eyes snapped open immediately, and it reared up to charge straight for him. Well looks like those legs of yours are going to get a pretty intense workout now, so run!
  5. 5 points
    I -need- to bring this out again. Which also means, I already have the drawing for it right here! @supernal that pic you linked is freaky XD
  6. 5 points

    Claiming the Furthest Point

    The concern any normal human being would have had for his fellow defenders was lost on Charlie. Instead of halting his pillage to assist the defenders he'd practically used as bait for the skittering monstrosities behind him, he continued on-wards to the spoil that had spilled from the Magnus's body. He didn't even look back. He didn't take notice of the last, fleeing Twistling that would doubtlessly return to exact revenge for its missing eye and dead brethren. Or maybe it'd return just because it was evil like that. He paid no heed to the commotion behind him. He figured that if everyone behind him got killed, he'd get to score a much larger haul. The only part about that scenario that bothered him was that the hot women he'd been planning to swoon would also be dead. He shrugged the thought off. It wasn't like he was committed to them or anything. If they died, they died. People always died. It was a mantra in Charlie's mind. He knew that someway, somehow, he would die one day too. In his mind though, his death would be legendary. He'd obviously go out with a bang. Or surrounded by large breasted women who couldn't keep their hands off of him. Either one seemed cool to him. The moment he reached the magnus's body, he began scooping up as much loot as he could, cramming smaller items into his backpack and slinging larger ones over his shoulders. The chest-plate he'd had his sights on beforehand was a little heavier than he'd expected, but he latched it to his back-pack nonetheless. He had absolutely no regard for the wise words of Fidelitas, choosing riches over a greater chance of surviving long enough to claim such riches. He thought to himself that if things got ugly, he'd just drop the pack someplace secure and get to the fighting unhindered. If someone stole it...well...you can probably guess what hell he'd raise. If he raised enough hell, the others might nip the issue in a bud and kill him, which I honestly believe would be a service to the rest of Terrenus. The only problem with that outcome would be explaining it to Zack. Charlie elected to stop looting after the chest-plate, figuring that he'd just steal loot off the others if he wanted more. He was walking back towards the others when he caught sight of a woman he'd seen earlier at the start of the expedition. Her name was Sera, and he was liking what he was seeing. She was walking over to pick up a shield from the spilled loot, and Charlie eyed her backside the entire time. Because of this, he wasn't looking where he was going and almost tripped over something again. Looking down, he spotted a pistol. He didn't hesitate in picking it up and examining it, the thought of looking around to see who had dropped it not even briefly crossing his mind. Charlie quickly stashed the weapon away with a deft quickness and pretended to notice Vlad's outburst. He then pretended to look for the weapon and eventually shrugged at Vlad. "No dice, man!" Charlie shouted back. He gave Vlad a resigned grin before continuing on his way, whistling a tune. He planned to find an unoccupied spot in order to case out the others for anything he could "borrow" when he spotted the woman he'd been healed by earlier when he got cut up by the Twsitling pretending to be doctor Warren. She appeared to tending to the injured. Taking a gander at her body for a few seconds, Charlie put on his best smile and practically sauntered over to her. "Yo!" he said as he approached her, all his loot and stolen items clanking against one another on his person. "You're one that fixed me up out there right?" Charlie's grin grew. "Back there when I was hallucinating? I saw you for a split second and thought I was dead, cause you looked like an angel!" Charlie waited with baited breath for her response, seemingly unaware that the last thing he'd ever see after death would be an angel. It be quite the opposite really, but he probably wouldn't even care if he was being stabbed by a being of torment as long as she was hot. @P.N.See @Thotification @Fierach
  7. 4 points
    Heyyyy everyone! I'm back again to ask for suggestions, this time for standard/default reactions in-between festivals and seasons. Ideally I would like to make Val-specific reactions, but these has to be tied to long-term lore, and not to specific characters (unless the character is very significant to the history of Valucre, and is likely to remain there). Does anyone have suggestions for them? If there's not enough ideas we can generate, I'll just go with selecting and downloading usual emoji sets like the apple or google emojis, or a mix (e.g. custom "superlike" and the rest are just normal ones.) I think there was also some talk about changing either "confused" or "what" to "wow", since the two are pretty close. Do you think that's a good idea? Participate in the poll! @amenities @supernal
  8. 4 points

  9. 4 points
    I will be able to post as Keithasdiouisdufpoieuiids Zollenstar potentially today.
  10. 4 points

    H&V Episode 1: A City Abandoned

    The sound of loud conversation was just audible to his enhanced senses, and he turned to look the way he had come to see if anyone was there. Initially coming up empty, he then switched to thermal optics, and saw three figures clear as day, standing on an adjacent rooftop. While thermal wasn't the best for picking out details, he could tell that one of them was wearing a lab coat, identifying her as a doctor. The other two appeared to be a man and a woman, though that was pretty much all he could make out. Still, they weren't holding rifles, and were obviously trying to save the doctor. It was enough to make a reasonable guess that they were Masks. "ODIN, do I have to be present for the data download?" Now that the server has been connected to the network, I can download the data remotely. Your presence is not required. A small smile graced his hidden features, "Good. I'm in the mood for a little fun. Whats the quickest route to those three?" Go out the window. Apex burst through a window and landed on an nearby roof before breaking out into a sprint to land on the next building. Eventually he overtook them, and jumped to land in a crouch in front of them. As he rose, his fingers sharpened into claws. "Prove your worth." @vielle @Wade
  11. 4 points

    What emotion best describes your character?

    Roen is melancholic. Some might consider it to be a prevailing mood of sorrow or inner trouble, but it’s different to me. I think his melancholic humour is protean and transformative. A spirit of contemplative change, like Autumn. An enabler of ends and begginings. Melancholic. It’s runs deeper than his fits of anger or brooding periods.
  12. 4 points
    @zackrobbman Did he... Did he just snatched my gun?!
  13. 4 points
    @jaistlyn maybe it's just me, but I think @supernal's avatar would be hilaaarious for the "Think," "Confused," or "What?" react.
  14. 4 points
    After a moment of watching the small body flip through the air, her force giving it momentum right up until the point it didn't and gravity kicked in- once that scene had past Lilith turned her gaze back toward the Nightmares and the Cthulhu. She didn't enjoy retreating or backing down from a fight. Others should back down or bow down to her; not the other way around. But the Soul Stone was powerful, powerful enough to block all of their abilities. So she'd deal with the momentary weakness. The strength and fortitude of her mind and identity would not be beaten down simply because she knew there was a fight she could not win. A mortal body can only do what a mortal body can do, after all. Raising her voice as loud as she could, not giving a fuck about the Nightmares or anything else, Lilith shouted, "Jump in the void!" Whether they trusted her or not, that was up to them, but those that didn't would most assuredly die a most gruesome and painful death. Without waiting to see who did or didn't choose to follow her, Lilith turned toward the pit between cliffs that she'd thrown Samael into and jumped into it herself. For a moment there was nothing but the woosh of air as gravity took control of her body. Then there was cold. A lot of cold. And a familiar wetness. Water. A few kicks brought Lilith to the surface of the water and gasped for air as her head surfaced. It wasn't as refreshing as she'd thought, however. Power suddenly returning to her, warming and cooling her body with its presence. And finally, once again, she could feel the Soul Stone. Much closer this time. And land was maybe a handful of minutes away if they swam fast. Giving herself a second to spot Samael, she dove under the water and latched her arm to his. With a tug she brought it above the water, waiting a second for Samael to get ahold of himself, and then let go. She wasn't going to drag him all the way to shore and if he couldn't survive a bit of water without her holding his hand, literally, why would she put in so much effort. "To shore!"
  15. 3 points
    Meeeeee! I wanna join!
  16. 3 points
    Ardon Dallas Having received orders prior to the knights' arrival, the guards knew to let them in after confirming their identities through whatever means the Order of Force Majeure tended to do so. The Custodes. The smaller of the three guards at the entrance, the one slightly thinner, a head shorter, and weak in the knees now that he was faced with the very real possibility of death, could be seen visibly relax at the sight of them. The Order of Force Majeure was, after all, becoming a well known entity for justice since the defeat of the Legion of Doom at their hands and their inclusion in the Allied Nations of Terrenus despite not being an actual nation. Safety was the word the guard thought. And it comforted him. The other two guards noted this and smirked, though playfully rather than mockingly. Not everyone was made for war. You could train for a million years but if your mind wasn't ready, the strength of you body was irrelevant. It took about ten minutes to reach the PRIME's floor in the castle, and another five past to finally reach the study where Ardon Dallas was. Other leading strategists had gathered in the room, their large Renovation backs hunched over the large war table, eyes scanning the many, many files and maps scattered about. They weren't holing up, but rather still planning. Still trying to figure out how to halt the onslaught that was already happening around Nu Martyr. Keto had fallen in the blink of an eyes, leading to the fall of Hungary, Taronta, and Apolypse not long after. Ardon lifted his large calloused hands to rub the bridge of his nose. "I'd bet my faith in Steorra that the Commander is aiming to trap is in. Surround us," the oldest of the strategists declared, his bald head without even the slightest of white stubble in pale contrast to the plentiful gray beard that hung from his chin. Ardon nodded, tapping Nu Delo and then tracing a line to Parrish. "It's tough to determine the path of her Paragons, but this seems to be the path she's taking. Taking us out one by one until finally leaving us with no way out. Yascow and Primeria are probably not that far behind." "Sir, my Lord PRIME, are you sure we can't just hand her the crown?" Ardon shot the strategist with a look of raw fury and the man shrunk back under it. "You want to give the Commander the Crown of Asteria? Can you even fathom the damage she would be able to do with one of our land's most powerful artifacts? This crown belonged to the daughter of a Titan! Look at what she's doing already. That monster is already almost a Titan. I don't want to imagine what she'd be able to do with Asteria's crown." Just then a knock came from the door behind them. Ardon turned around to the see the door had already opened, meaning the new comers had likely heard their earlier discussion. The younger guard and the Order of Force Majeure Custodes he'd brought along with him stood their, as if waiting for him. Putting on a thin smile, Ardon walked over to the group and beckoned them in, not expecting any form of royal respect for the Order. At least not at the moment, not when his province was under attack. "Welcome Sir Knights," he said, motioning toward the war table. Lilith Reiter Under the red weight of her ominous gaze, the Paragons scrambled to complete the large magic circle Lilith had ordered created not twenty minutes prior. The lines were drawn with steady hands despite the pressure from her, tracing out ancient runes that warned of great power without even a link of living energy yet breathed into them. Each rune was connected to the next; some overlapped majorly while other barely touched. Once it was finished, Lilith walked to its center, careful not to step on any lines lest she disconnect the gathering magic from within. Before starting, she felt another's gaze directed toward her; a respond to her own from moments before. It was powerful, in a way, but not so much that Lilith felt the need to answer it with another. So she just ignored it with the faintest upward twitch of her lips. A dog could bark all it wanted. If the victim of her warning glare truly felt the need to challenge her, he would come to the battle field instead of hiding behind the excuse of distance. Lilith had long sense promised her arrival in Mu Martyr. Nothing could stop her. Not a mortal, nor a god, nor a beast behind time. Nothing. "Vocationem audi me, Domine, de his mortuis. Audi vocem meam et voluntatem meam sequi imperium, et conteram coram me. Surgere putei ab desperatione hostium iter meum. Atque iter impedire deducere quaeritis occidere stare coram fluctus furoris," Lilith chanted, the words and sounds cascading from her lips like living beings of their own rights. Each syllable she spoke almost seemed palpable to the watching Paragons, as if they'd be able to take a knife or one of the many weapons on them and cut through it. Then, without warning, a tremble went through Nu Martyr. Similar to the ripple effect of throwing a pebble into a lake, the earthquake like shake blew outward with the fury of a tsunami. However, it was more of an astral basis than a material one. Buildings didn't fall and infrastructure didn't collapse. No, that had never been the spell's intention. Nothing collapsed or was brought down. Things were brought up. Brought back. Summoned. And not just one or two. Not just a hundred or a thousand. No. Hundreds of thousands of undead creatures broke through the earth of Nu Martyr from every corner of the province. The more people and creatures had died in the area, the more the spell forced back to the plane of the living. From the graveyard within Nu Martyr City itself to the far reaches of the Nu Martyr province, to the long buried dead in Parrish. Corpses of all sorts of horrendous creatures rose from the pits of death on Lilith's command. Distractions and nothing more, of course, mostly weak individually but of enormous strength thanks to the massive numbers. The largest area the undead raced to gather on was Nu Delo, the next city to be torn down by Lilith as her Paragons took care of what remained of Keto. Shooting off into the sky as a blur of black smoke, Lilith nearly slammed into an approaching attack from some far off entity. The first counter, she supposed, though not one that held much power in the wake of all that She was. A surge of necromantic energy exploded from the black smoke which enveloped her, meeting her foe's golden lights mano e mano and canceling it out with equal offensive prowess. The result was a series of large explosions that shook the ground beneath and sprayed remnant magic among what remained of Keto's citizens, the Cult's Paragons not bothering to defend other besides themselves from the remnant attack. Snorting at the failed, though rather powerful long range attack, Lilith then made quick work of the distance between Keto and Nu Delo, shortly followed by a few of her Risens thereafter. At least, those that remained after her previous skirmish with the Order. Touching down once again, this time in Nu Delo, Lilith was pleased to see that the undead were already wreaking havoc. Surprising there were even a handful of enormous beasts wondering the streets. One in specific standing taller than even the tallest of Nu Delo's buildings and Lilith couldn't help but whistle at the height. The Supreme Witch she'd bargained with the Djinn to summon, a being that Lilith herself would have done had she the confidence in that area to do so without a single fraction of probability for failure, had given her the spell. Lilith had doubted it's prowess and the Supreme Witch had known. Still knew, probably from the surprise on Lilith's face. "Well done," the Commander said, speaking both to praise the witch and to remind the women of her place. The Supreme Witch behind Lilith said nothing, but her black eyes sparkled with delight at seeing her spell in action.
  17. 3 points
    Better Than Gore

    Church On The Hill

    “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t kiss and tell, eh?” He winked. Ioreth spoke of Coth and those who inhabited it; an occasional "I see," was slipped in as her explanation continued, it wasn’t until they ventured into the town itself that he started noticing the small details. “I hope so. Not knowing your own name is rather disappointing.” He added. He was used to people staring; most went their entire lives without crossing paths with an Orc, let alone a half breed, he was truly a sight to behold. “Hm?” A woman approached, Ioreth must have been expecting her, or maybe people who lived here were just that friendly. “They’re called cows, apparently. Don’t trust them, they’re scandalous creatures.” Then she introduced herself and asked him for his name. “Good question. I’ll tell you as soon as I know.” He laughed. “Before we come across any more gorgeous women, can I please change my clothes, bathe perhaps?” @KittyvonCupcake @Witches Brew
  18. 3 points
    Looks like the most you could do is remove the questions, zeroing out the votes, and then make them again for new votes in the new order May not be worth it but throwing it out there
  19. 3 points
    This is why I wanted a "Wow" to begin with! I think "Wow" in relation to "SuperLike" is a lot less redundant than having a "Confused," "Think," AND "What?" react, which all mean the same thing. You can translate any react to whatever you want, using or misusing it, but I'm shooting to broaden the available scope of them; and the main objective I see in that is breaking up the "Confused," "Think," and "What?" trifecta.
  20. 3 points
    Abigail = Ambition Narcissism There are a few different things that could describe Abigail, but it does seem like almost everything about her life revolves around the desire for success. If I could find a word that describes the emotion for desiring to prove oneself worthy, I would probably use that instead though. Credit to Supernal. Yeah, she's obsessed with proving herself worthy and seeking recognition/acknowledgement for her accomplishments. While I wouldn't say this has necessarily led to vanity, it does apply in that she is very self-centric or always focused on the benefit of her house over the nation or other people. Rodan = Amusement Another option is "curiosity", but it seems to me that most of what Rodan does is done for the purpose of amusing himself. Testing the limits of his own abilities as well as the mental and emotional limits of his victims, purely for the entertainment value, or at least to avoid getting boredom or stagnation.
  21. 3 points

    I mean, really now

    Erin glared between Xavier and Eldwine, finding that the first was not backing down, and was also smarting than he looked, while the latter clearly just wanted to go with the more logical option and be done with it. "Fine, you take it then." she grumbled, heading over to grab the other halo, while muttering under her breath, "Suit looks stupid anyway." She had to be instructed on how to actually interface with the halo, but eventually she accomplished this. Soon, she was plugged into the matrix, her body going stiff as her mind's signals shifted from her physical form to her pending avatar in the technological network. Of course, as it turns out, this being her first sign-in, the network had apparently to do a few calculations first. As it was doing that, she found herself in the middle of an out-of-body experience, no longer feeling any physical form, instead only seeing what amounted to a computer screen in front of her eyes, except that she had no eyes, for it was just an image projected directly into her mind. New Subject Detected. Conducting biological scan, please wait... Complete. Profile being created, please wait... Complete. Species: Human Sex: Female Height: 5.75 Meters Weight: 68 Kilograms Please input name... Erin. Profile Name: Erin Constructing avatar parameters, please wait... Complete. Please select an avatar variant... Erin found herself staring a sliding menu of various constructed versions of herself. The default was a cartoony caricature, which would have made her roll her eyes in annoyance, expect... yeah, still no eyes. Still, using brain impulse, she was able to rotate the model to look at it, as well as cycle through the list of potential models. The default didn't suit her, so she moved to the next. The pixel version didn't exactly float her boat either, nor did the low-poly version, or the anime version, or the age-regressed version, or the age-progressed version, or the... let's not talk about that version actually... the monochrome version wasn't horrible at least, the metallic-skin version made her pause a moment, then she arrived at the "enhanced version". "Those... do not look natural..." she thought. Right, moving on. Stick figure version? No. Genderbent version? Err... Comic book version? Nah. Chibi version? NO! Catgirl version? Why is that EVEN a THING!? Furry version? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!? Having exhausted literally every weird and irritating internet cliche, Erin finally arrived at the end of the list... which was actually a fairly high-quality, near-photo-realistic 3D model, that actually did look like her. Finally. Why in hell was that not the default? Whatever, at least she found it. Select. Avatar requires 10,000 Network Coins to unlock, please input payment option... Oh COME ON!
  22. 3 points
    Agony - One might think I'd say agony or anguish but I believe misanthropy is currently where he is at right now. I think he is the hardest for me to pinpoint which means he is more than just physically amorphous. Ilyana - Confident. New lease on life so she believes she can do anything she wants to do. Xavier - Excited. Has that extra push now to defy stereotypes so is excited for what is to come.
  23. 3 points
    I’m going to crank out the big guns. Ioreth - hiraeth Draug - onism Vesper - thalassophile
  24. 3 points
    Witches Brew

    Church On The Hill

    Bean Juice, Bean Juice, Bean Juice! Mythandriel’s thoughts consisted of nothing but the hot bean juice when she woke, a headache lingering behind her skull as she slept on that stiff cot in her cousin’s living room. For once her cousin woke before her it seemed, for her cousin’s bedroom door was wide open, and some journals were sprawled across the dining table, a few crusts revealed that she had already eaten, and departed without cleaning up. With a groan, Myth found herself shuffling into the kitchen, her long silver hair in a messy bundle at the top of her head. She removed the leather band keeping it together, and it fell in wavy lumps down to her back. She needed to wash it, but she didn’t want too, it took way to long to dry. She grabbe the kettle, and turned the flame on high. She didn’t want to wait for it to boil, she needed it now. As she waited for her bean juice to boil and brew. She needed to guzzle it before she fainted into a sleepy heap on her cousin’s floor. She dressed simply today, now in a terrific mood since she drank about four mugs of the hot bean juice. She wore a flowy white tunic, tucked loosely into a pair of dark green leggings. She sipped on her fifth mug, and relaxed for a moment before she remembered that she had promised to gather herbs for the women who lived in the temple. She wasn’t exactly sure what or who those women were, or why they were important, but they were on the lips of every Cothite. She ran a comb through her hair, straightening out the messy waves she had gained overnight. She grabbed a basket, and headed out the door. There was a patch of land that people went around and called a garden, but it was a mess. This woman planted whatever she had wanted, and most of it went to the temple. This woman had no regard for what she had placed where, and it gave the elven girl terrible anxiety. The women in the Temple there heard of Myth’s skill in botany and potion making, and asked her to do a few favors. She accepted. She spent a few hours kneeling in the dirt, picking the best sprigs she found in this ameatuer space, weeding as she went along. It was when she rose, and saw her cousin’s silver head and pointed eare. “Ioreth!” She called cheerfully, and she scooped up her basket and jogged over to her kin and the stranger beside her. She smiled brightly at the two of them, and nodded. “Yes, I salvaged as much as I could, but that woman’s garden might as well be feed for those spotted creatures in the field, I forgot what you called them.” She said, and she turned to face the Orc. She had never seen one before. He was very interesting. “Hello, I am Mythandriel Zvenda, and you are?” She did not offer her hand, she instead dipped her head, and smiled. @KittyvonCupcake @Better Than Gore
  25. 3 points

    Church On The Hill

    “Why would the Father be cross with me?” Ioreth’s echo of Mythandriel’s question was merely a tool to distract her from the battered soles of her cousin’s boots. She would need new shoes, and clothing, to spare Myth from wrapping herself in rags and spiderwebs and praying for warmth. The slight frown shifted to a low laugh. “For a myriad of reasons. My purpose here is to keep his mind alert.” As they trudged together through the freshly fallen snow, Ioreth thought of the way crimson stained white and swept off her cloak to wrap around Myth’s delicate shoulders. Soft fur of deep brown gave an earthy contrast to the richly dyed black wool and provided some shelter from the crisp winter morning. “Keep it,” she murmured, squinting in the reflection of the sunlight from the snow. “I settle somewhere and clutter follows. If I am to be honest with you, Myth, Constans issued his summons because I turned a man into a goat.” There was something so deeply unapologetic and straightforward with her tone that it sounded as if Ioreth confessed to witnessing the sun rise or eating blackberry pie three nights ago. Had one reacted purely by the casual cadence of her voice, it was the type of comment one would grant a small nod, say something along the lines of “ah” or “I see” or “I, as well” before transitioning the subject to a topic with more interest. “I turned a man into a goat” may as well have been “I saw a cow out by Asher’s farm.” Ioreth had little else to say on the matter. Her own prediction that Constans would require her speak of each detail with a surgical clarity prompted her to be abstemious with her words, if only to spare her from scoffing in the face of repetition. It was only in the little basement that she felt a twinge of regret. No smile greeted her, no laughter flickered in his green eyes. Only a heaviness, a muted rasp in his voice. Everything had its cost. Fatigue, she thought grimly, still suspicious that the green fire was slowly altering him into something different. Responsibility can change a man, too. “Ioreth,” he said. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” No was her first answer. She held this one in as she reached for her cup of hot tea and absorbed the warmth in her hands. He would have seen how she studied him, how she weighed and measured her answer even as she offered him a gentle smile and replied, “There is much I would like to tell you of. Though—“ her tea swirled and steam rose “—I feel that you and I have opposing topics on our minds.” “You must have seen the goat. Please, let me explain before you give me that look.” And Odille begins to drip all over the journals. The poor girl appeared as though she had swallowed a specter. “The man he was before the…” Her free hand gestured vaguely outside. “...transformation made it clear that he had ill intentions set upon Odille and that he would not listen to reason. Not only did he torment her with insults, I had to stop him from attacking her with a knife. She came to me for help, Constans. I thought it best to ensure he could not harm her without resorting to any form of violence.” Ioreth held her tea to her lips before she met the priest’s green eyes with an arched brow. “Do I have to change him back?” @Vansin @Witches Brew @LikelyMissFortune
  26. 3 points

    Church On The Hill

    “I can keep a secret. ‘Tis the cows that should cause you concern. They are incorrigible gossips.” His sheepish scrutiny of the dirt path was countered with another look of amusement. If there was a god as Constans and Viscerex believed that guided people to the right places at the right time in accordance to a divine plan, the question as to why God led an amnesiac into Ioreth’s fickle hands would have made for interesting debate. Though she was a position of power over Coth’s worldly knowledge, there was also the threat that she was in one of her moods and would fill the lost man’s head with pure nonsense before tossing him in front of Constans to sort out. Fortunately for the orc, she seemed more interested in providing useful information. She told him her name, and she told him of how Coth was created as a place of refuge. She conveniently left out details of the Cothite church, stating only that most of those who lived here worshipped a god of green fire. There was slight emphasis on most. “The priestesses may be able to help with your memory. The women of the Fidei Lena are…” For a moment, Ioreth struggled to find the suitable word. “Generous. Very...generous. They are keen on sharing their gifts.” Farmland gave way to the residential houses. Some with stone walls still bore the burn scars from Coth’s attack. Her lips pursed and she glanced away, instead directing her gaze towards the slumbering flowerbeds that peacefully lay dormant in the winter. Some doors were painted a cheerful shade of green, others adorned with lanterns lit with ever burning flame. It was humans that predominantly lived here. All had green eyes. More than a few granted both Ioreth and her nameless companion looks that ranged from curiosity to confusion, though those that made eye contact would offer a wave or a nod of their head. Ioreth continued at her pace until she spied a shock of silvery hair, similar to her own, and a pair of pointed ears sticking out from a small gathering of women around Rivka Thorne’s garden. Find a patch of dirt and find Mythandriel. “There you are,” Ioreth hummed. “Did you gather all the herbs the priestesses requested?” @Better Than Gore @Witches Brew
  27. 3 points
    The Valucre globe as either like or superlike I don’t know how many canon gods of comedy there are but I have one in a pantheon for rosinder types. It’s a joker. I think that would be a good HAHA if not too generic
  28. 3 points
    @zackrobbman Is Charlie flirtin' with Sheryl? XD
  29. 3 points
    Eleanor couldn’t deny she was a little saddened by the face Constans would not take her to see these Brothers, but she had an idea that she hoped that would be able to save these poor girls, before they were savaged by the Warthog who claimed to be a knight. That’s what upset her the most about this whole ordeal, a knight protected the weak, the virgins he so ruthlessly took. A knight took no lands or titles, he just served faithfully. This man was no knight. He may claim to be one, but he was not worthy. Not in her eyes or God’s. Eleanor put her hands gently on her sister’s as her arms wrapped around her. Though they were twins, her sister was born mere minutes before she, and in moments like these, she acted like it. Eleanor was still weak, and ill, but Isabelle was always stronger, she was a fighter. She’d get her chance, she promised. She took a deep breath before speaking. “We must still go to the Brothers.” She said, and she squeezed Isabelle’s hands. “They are going to deliver us to Warthog, as virgins for him. We will allow ourselves to be taken, and we will fight our way out from the inside.” She said, her hand squeezing tighter. “I will go, but I cannot speak for my sisters.” Eleanor said, and she looked at Isabelle and Eirene. She hoped they would go with her. She was no fighter, she could barely run down the hall without losing breath. She would need their help to make this plan work. “I’m sure this plan will work, I am almost certain. Please Father, Sisters, we have to help these girls, no matter the cost.”
  30. 3 points
    'Reap what you Sow...' Chapter I: A Heavy Heart It had been a long while since Ydris had last been home, yet now in its hour of need, he could only hold his position. Death was as big a piece to this world as birth was, but this was something he did not anticipate. Clutching the hilt of the dead star Legion he slowly unshouldered Er into his right-handed grasp. The open maw of shield paled in comparison to the flames that lived around its frame. The ring of Yedidiah throbbed upon his hand as the flat of Legion shimmered to life. The onslaught of death was something that honestly excited the Dark Zodiac Knight but in this fight, it was the loss of his kin. Connor’s comments rolled past the man as his purple hues rolled with emotion. The Primal alloy and graviton mixed armor clung to his body with ease. At his back, a wanton warrior stood tall for her own height, Freydis had was not one to overlook the impending fight. At the command of the Kommadant herself, the Bravada pair set out to help quell the fight of this misfit. Her silver eyes remained locked on the skull in the sky. It lacked any means of being a terror in the day or night, again those from Avylon were bred for this kind of conflict. In both hands, she wielded two large battle axes as was the Asegir custom. With the right one to rest upon her shoulder, her primal alloy armor clung to her ample but small body. The thick black mess of her hair was set back into cornrolls which were put into a thick bun. Raising the left hand she pointed towards Keto and gazed over towards Ydris for orders. At first, nothing came from the blacked figures mouth, his eyes were focused on their necromancer now. With a deep breath he exhaled and left the ground with the aid of the graviton floating further into the air, from beneath his cloak came a single moogle. The creature floated around his figure before resting upon his shoulder. “Not a very scary sight Kupo.. Perhaps they should get out more?” A chuckle was all the moogle got in response, raising his left arm he hovered over the top of the building. Cutting down with the blade nothing appeared to visibly happen, but the moogle understood the motion. Freydis hooked one axe upon her back pulling out a blue crystal, rolling it in her fingers the object itself began to shimmer and soon shine before she tossed it up into the air. With a few quick steps back she readied the axe for a swing batting the item into the sky. At first, it did not break, yet as it traveled through the air the light it cast soon exploded from its core. “Surely the city is lost, but we do not mourn them. They died a death to help our footsteps in this war.” As the crystal reached the apex of its journey it shattered scattering an undetermined amount of light balls onto Keto in retaliation and hopeful damage to the Necromancer and her troops. The violet hues were unblinking as he watched and waited for long distance retaliation. Freydis did not wait for more orders, leaping from the balcony she skated off of the rooftops and down into the streets. The back was no place for a frontliner like herself, seeking out the fray as it drew closer was more of her speed after all. With both axes in hand, she pulled on her helmet and disappeared into the capital city. On the other hand, a single youth gazed out with crimson optics and an unamused face. Halvar was here upon the interests of Kadian and Babel Corp. Where his leaders were he did not care, both could reach him at any point in time, for now, however, the young lad sat perched between Keto and a bit before the capital city. The A3g15 armor upon his body hummed with light as the helmet rested beneath the barrel of his sniper rifle. The skull in the sky only represented heathens in his eyes as did those who were not of Kadian faith. ‘He who does not believe should perish honestly..’ Halvar thought as he changed out round kits to the silenced rounds. Once the round clicked into place the biometrics of the gun changed silently giving him the covert advantage.
  31. 3 points

    H&V Episode 1: A City Abandoned

    My thoughts were on Roxanne later that night. I was still reeling from the fact that I’d gotten her number. What I’d done to deserve it, I never could’ve told you, but it didn’t matter so much as the fact that I’d gotten got her number. Bogwandi’s gonna freak. As I flopped onto the couch, a part of me suspected the digits were made-up. A girl like her probably got asked out all the time, so it made sense that she could’ve played me on the spot. But even then, I was in too good a mood to really consider the possibility. One second it was there, the next I was throwing in the metaphorical trash, replacing it with a celebratory bag of peanut N&N’s while I turned on the news. “-and we are breaking it now with a report of a recent explosion downtown. It happened sometime after 9:00 PM tonight, in an old office building across from Palgard General. It was followed shortly by gunfire as members of the King Spiders converged on the hospital, and police are responding as we speak-“ Click. I flew from the sofa and ran to my room, then dug out a small cardboard box from the air vent behind my bed. I dumped its contents on my dresser: a cobalt suit jacket, matching blue pants, knee-high socks, and a ridiculous white scarf. It looked like something straight out the colonial era, dashed with a hint of royal flair. My costume, in other words. It looked awful. Smiling, I reached under the bed a second time and pulled out another box. Inside was a butterfly knife, a tricorn hat, brown leather shoes, and a plain white mask; no lips, no nose, just eye slits and a black spandex hood. I threw those in a gym bag while I changed into everything else. The finishing touches were a silenced 9mm, which I’d bought off the black market, and a dark Kevlar vest, which I’d also bought off the black market. It should’ve been surprising how easy it was to purchase them when I did, but Palgard was Palgard. Anyone over the age of five could’ve bought an arsenal. So long as you had the money, the subtlety, and you knew the right people, the door would always be open to you. It was that easy. Once the suit was on, I threw track pants and a sports hoodie overtop. Nothing showed, not the scarf, nor the knee-high socks. I grabbed my keys and made my way down the stairwell until I reached the apartment’s underground parking lot. Waiting in the corner was an old Leon Crusader, polished to a shine and looking like the day it rolled off the factory lines. It had been a gift from my parents when I turned sixteen, and I’d been taking care of it ever since. A lot of the money I saved as a result of my scholarship had gone towards refurbishing it. “Okay,” I whispered, tossing the gym bag over to the passenger seat. I was already planning out the quickest route to the hospital as I thundered onto the street. “Nothing crazy tonight,” I reminded myself, turning on the radio. “Remember, you still feel awful-” I’M BURNING THROUGH THE SKYYY, YEEEEAAAAAH TWO HUNDRED DEGREES, THAT’S WHY THEY CALL ME MR. FAHREN-HEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIT I’M TRAVELLING AT THE SPEED OF- I turned off the radio. Eddie Mercury got me way too pumped. I slowed down later when a roadblock flashed less than a kilometer away. Police were redirecting traffic away from downtown, making room for ambulances to come and go, alongside the occasional firetruck honking away at breakneck speeds. Behind them, roiling black smoke billowed into the night sky, and the familiar rattle of gunfire turned the air brittle and sharp. I turned on a side street before I had the chance to get caught up in the blockage. At some point, I found a parking spot in a neighbourhood area close to my old high school. There wasn’t anyone around but I found an alley just to be safe, where I had time to change and hide my bag in a dumpster, under several layers of garbage. “Mask on,” I recited, ready to pull the spandex over my head. Then I paused, turned the mask over, and looked at it for a good ten seconds. It’s missing something. I pulled out my butterfly knife, letting the ends snap in a quick flourish. I started dragging the blade across my palm, careful not to cut too deeply. A thin blue line appeared and began to weep dark rivulets, and I flicked my hand like a whip, spraying the mask with blood. Badass. The cut coagulated instantly; however, it didn’t fully heal. I could seal minor injuries at the cost of a few hundred calories, depending on the severity of the wound. Scarring was usually non-existent, which saved me a lot of trouble. I couldn’t imagine explaining to someone why I’d gone through an emo phase as a cover-up story. “Mask on,” I repeated, slipping the spandex over my head. One tricorn and two white gloves later, and I was ready to venture out into the chaos. Clang, clang, clang. Huff, huff, huff. “Oh wait, NO-“ That was me climbing ladders and jumping across rooftops. Eventually, I found a solid vantage point overlooking all of Palgard General. It was an absolute disaster down there. Good thing I had chosen the valiant struggle of parkour. I crouched low to the floor, holding on to my hat as a bullet pinged nearby, and scanned the streets for anything of interest - anything that didn’t involve walking directly into a firefight. My powers weren’t particularly flashy, and I had to be smart about how I used them. Death wasn’t the preferable end to my official debut as a hero. A blur of cyan and magenta suddenly caught my eye, bright and quick. I probably wouldn’t have seen it from the ground below, so that was another point in favour of parkour. Reflex rocketed my body into a mad dash as the neon glow disappeared around a corner, and I ran and ran and ran, arms pumping, legs swinging, until my chest burned like fire and sweat beaded my forehead. My efforts were rewarded when the neon flared back to life. I grinned underneath my mask. It ziplined to the rooftop ahead of me and took off with the ferocity of a handicapped wolf. Handicapped, because it appeared to be carrying something rather large on its shoulder. A white lab coat suggested it was a person, a doctor of sorts to be specific. What does the infamous Beast want with a doctor? I wondered. An explosion abruptly tore me from my thoughts. I glanced to the left in time to see debris raining from the sky- -before someone caught it with their hands. And they were flying. I paused. Everyone did, I think. It was like the whole world had stopped just to watch. Reluctantly, I switched my attention back to Beast, who was already getting away. It seemed a pity that I had to go chase her now and leave the action behind. “Curses,” I muttered, getting into character. I stayed on Beast’s tail for a good while. She was having a hard time shaking me off with that person weighing her down. I decided to take a risk, swerving on a detour my eyes picked up on the fly, and bolted faster than I’d thought possible. Somehow, I’d managed to cut her off. “HA HA!” I exclaimed, holding up a finger. My breaths came in ragged and insufficient. “Why if it isn’t the famous Beast and her new pet scientist! Or should I say the Beauty and the Beast? You are quite lovely, doctor.” I placed one hand on my hip and made a grand gesture to my chest with the other. An incredulous pause gave me the opportunity to prepare my most bombastic voice. “I am Blueblood, Scourge of Villainy, Duke of Biscuits, and Earl of Grey! Allow me to assist you, fellow hero! Let us join our strength!” I looked at Beast more closely. “Hmm. Forgive me, my lady. I believe I have made a mistake in calling the doctor the Beauty."
  32. 2 points
    Dolor Aeternum

    I mean, really now

    The orc flashed a grin as he got his way and stared long at Erin before moving to put on the suit. Xavier took some time placing the mesh suit on his massive body, fumbling with some of the wires and looking visibly uncomfortable as the suit barely managed to fit on his bulk. The receptors came in contact with Obtenebra on some occasions which caused the black substance to recede so that it came in contact with flesh. Xavier tried to hide this as best as he could, shifting around so that the others couldn’t see but his ancient companion would be hard to conceal. After several awkward movements, Xavier seemed ready to start so he planted himself near Lycoris and then felt a tingling sensation all over his chest which caused the orc to jump before he started to see things he knew weren’t physically there. Vibrant colors assaulted his eyes from within the helm as neon signs advertised a variety of services and several avatars began walking by him without a care in the world. It was then that he noticed a certain aura around his appendages that let him know where his arms and legs were but did not look like he knew they should. Xavier would shake his arm and then shake his leg trying to regain his bearings which caused a few avatars that passed by to jerk their bodies to circle around him. The din of the crowd around him caused him to dart his head to and fro until he took a long deep breath and mumbled something to himself; a mantra to keep it together. He frantically searched for the others but only saw a silhouette of someone near him that seemed to take a long time to take shape. Attempting to poke at it, unaware that it was Erin taking her sweet time, he found his fingers slide right through which bothered him every which way. Music filled his ears as there was a band playing in this centralized area. A group of women brushed by him and had no qualms letting themselves slide around him which activated some receptors that caused nerves to fire up as he felt them go by but the orc knew they weren’t physically there. The woman scrunched their faces in mild disgust after they noticed what he was. This orc had no time to be offended as he clearly did not come prepared for this part of the job and it showed with how his body jerked at every sudden movement. In whispers, he said following to himself. “This is all for the money Xavier…just suck it up.” It seemed to help just a bit as he stood upright and looked promisingly imposing. That was his job right? To be the muscle and nothing more? Please let it be all he needed to be this time around.
  33. 2 points
    That’s not why I’m judging you tbh You’re gonna make a great lawyer btw I feel it
  34. 2 points
    Valucre was a thunderdome of likes and dislikes. I think if we made one of those today, we'd have to add a Safe Space section to the Alt subforum where dislikes didn't exist 😆
  35. 2 points
    I want Holy Shit, and I don’t care how we get it.
  36. 2 points
    @SelenaNichole Claiming the Furthest Point. The second event will still be an open thread where anyone who is interested can join, but those characters who have participated in the first one will get a perk, since they will have had some experience in Yh’mi! @zackrobbman I ought to arrest Charlie. 😂 Maybe if Vlad finds out and kicks up a big enough fuss. 😂
  37. 2 points

    New Friends and New Adventures

    The sun was cresting toward noontime as Viscerex watched the girl stomp into the distance. She seemed driven and excited, like the cat whose prey has turned its back. The wild lord was glad for her. Life was meant to be lived in pursuit. Viscerex, Ioreth's voice whispered. His breath stopped. She did not usually greet him. His gleaming helm turned, and he beheld her with concealed joy. She spoke, and he answered, "A man attacked her. He is dead." This simple explanation enunciated less of his involvement than he might have wished, but Viscerex was not the sort to glorify himself through conversation. Ioreth was wise enough to guess the truth, even if she might never know it, and her request was all the validation he required. He nodded at something behind her, toward the slumped offering on her door. "Eat in peace, I will care for your relative." He lingered for a moment, drinking in the rare sight of her. She was not as well put together as she usually was. The natural beauty of her creased and worried face tethered him for a moment, but he dared not tarry long and was soon off after the girl. At first he saw no need to catch up to her, he knew that she may not welcome his company and so decided to let the journey tire her out some before he made himself know. He stayed far enough behind her so that he was out of sight, following her light elven footprints a mile or so back. He could sense the importance of her task by the urgency of her stride. Was it anger that motivated her? Certainly she had the right to feel rage. Somehow, though, he didn't think that was it. She'd packed for a journey. Rash anger was rarely so deliberate. "Where are you going, little elf?" he whispered to himself as he knelt to brush a finger over her footprint.
  38. 2 points
    Shane was about to turn and run, as figured the two younger girls must be doing now, when something caused him to do a double-take. What was the commander doing? "Jump in the void!" Wait, was she serious? A moment later, Lilith plunged into the abyss, leaving Shane momentarily flabbergasted. But then, she was their leader, and seemed to know way more than he did, or than most of them did for that matter, so he probably should trust her judgement. Also, he kind of had to obey orders. "WAIT! Not into the woods! Into the gorge!" he called after Mercury and Cerin, "Commander's orders!" Quickly checking to make sure all his weapons were secure on himself, he ducked a flailing tentacle, then made a running jump over the side. This seemed like a terrible idea... And when he hit the cold water below, he really began to think it was a bad idea. At least, he did until he felt his power returning, his blood beginning to simmer once again from the internal flame that had been lit in the distant ruins of Everrun. After he managed to get back to the surface and sputter out any water that forced itself into his mouth or nose, he spun around in place to fully take-in his surroundings. Lilith and Samael were not far away, already swimming toward the shore. "Right." Fortunately, Shane had learned to swim many years ago, despite having grown up in a semi-arid climate. Thank Gaia that Norkotia had been built on the shores of Sidereal Lake. In any case, he promptly swam after the two, albeit much more slowly thanks to his armor and weapons weighing him down.
  39. 2 points
    Instead of Wow the reaction should be Holy Shit lol I'd have fun with that.
  40. 2 points
    The one character thread I had trouble with. Lithist - Proud Ragnar - Sentimentality (specifically towards family) Sinder - Bubbly. Even with tears streaming down her face she'll look at you and tell you she's ok.
  41. 2 points
    Oh dear..this looks fun The Lady Blackhead - Lust/Pleasure The Mistress Blackhead - Will/Resolve later becomes Compassion 😏😏 Holly Sheathe - Determination/Courage
  42. 2 points

    To Have and To Hold.

    At first Marik didn't move as her soft fingers touched his cheek, slowly tracing down to his chin and further as she followed the blooming bruises and the old scars. More than any woman before, her touch felt right. Almost like he'd known it his entire life, just waiting for it until just then. The touch wasn't exactly loving or scornful, despite her comment to the contrary, one which Marik responded with a deep chuckle, but it was instead curious. Full of desire in the way it lingered or pulled back, mirroring the emotions Marik glimpsed flickering in the beautiful colors of her eyes. When her mind seemed to wonder and her hand pulled back as the other reached for her hair, Marik let his hand fall atop the one pulling away. His large hand gently wrapped around hers and brought it to his lips. The skin of her broken finger touched his lips in the slightest of ways, with a ghost of a kiss. A promise of what could be. And then he let her hand go, seeing the conflict in her eyes but having made his thoughts known if in action instead of words. "I apologize. I... am afraid the matter is desperate. Were you here for the Maze, Sir Cayne?" He watched her walk away, knowing she was looking for the wine, but not able to take his eyes off her. Whether it was in the simplicity of the way she moved or the way her toned, scantily clad body seemed to whisper secrets that all men desired, it was at that moment Marik knew he was in trouble. Evienne was like a sun, a being with her own gravitational field and Marik could feel himself tumbling straight for that orbit. Evienne smiled at him and that brought him back from his thoughts, a snap back to the now. There was something lesser about her smile now. Something ominous in it. Not that he was surprised, given the state of, well, her. Marik smiled in return, the slightly crooked grin that teased arrogance but delivered playfulness; as if to say that if he had been at the maze, she could be sure she would have known it. "I don't think I saw you there, well. The Ball was full of tragedy for the Uldwars, and, they decided to bite the hand that helped them by taking my cousin. They took her. I think they took her. I should've been their target. She's sixteen years old-- and blind at that. She... was left to my care, and now she's gone." With gentle hands and slow movement, Marik reached out to take the bottle of wine from Evienne. Still he kept silent, not wanting to interrupt as she told him of the days trials and of the demons that were ripping her apart inside. Instead he simply walked over to where the servants had placed a few glasses and took two, leading Evienne to the edge of his bed. He sat next to her and opened the bottle. Handing her one of them after filling it up only a quarter of the way so as to not have it spill in her no doubt trembling hands, he would fill one for himself and set the bottle down by their feet. "I have to find her. You have to help me." At this Marik stayed silent for a moment, taking the opportunity to let the glass' head weight between his fingers and to meet her eyes with his own. The blue of his eyes was as deep as it was stormy; a raging sense of freedom always there like the crashing of a tidal wave. But still he held her gaze, reaching out to tuck a stand of her silky ear behind one of her petite ears. There wasn't much he could say. There wasn't much at all to be said other than he would help her. And so he did. "I will help in anyway that I can," he said softly, though the words were laden with a tough confidence. If there was one thing he could do better than almost anyone else, it was find what was supposed to remain hidden. "But we will start tomorrow." Again, soft but firm. "Your cousin needs you strong and at your best. You're no help to her right now. Prepare. Rest." With the same hand he'd used to tuck her hair he lifted her chin. "And tomorrow, bright and early, we will find your cousin and bring hellfire down on those that crossed you." He paused, letting her see the fire that burned in his gaze as it did whenever an adventure or hunt was laid out before. "But tonight..."
  43. 2 points
    All of the above are possible! I think something that's surprising pretty well captures what I mean; ranging from surprisingly awesome to surprisingly stupid.
  44. 2 points
    The morning began when Ioreth heard the sound of boiling water. She raised her head from the table, her hair akin to a habit for a large roosting bird, and blearily stared at the map that served as her pillow. Notebooks were strewn across the table’s surface; some with notes detailing Cothite sermons, another filled solely with lists of coordinates. One page contained a question “Mountaintop, energy loci?” The other, in Stello Lavis’s angular handwriting bluntly stated “Send me grape money or I’m dragging your elven ass to court for kraken support.” Bean water. No wonder Mythandriel managed to function on a human’s diurnal schedule. She slouched her way to the sofa and flopped onto the cushions, grimacing when her cousin enthusiastically closed the door behind her. There was a plant she had been burbling about. The shape of greenery twisted vaguely in Ioreth’s recollections before darkness quietly claimed her. It released its grip when nails began to slam into the door. Ioreth uttered a groan and pushed a throw pillow over her ear. Viscerex would be gone soon enough, though she did not understand why the prey he caught had to be nailed to her door. It would have been easier to simply dump it in front of her cabin, as it would have spared her the effort of removing the nails from the deer he left behind. She should have crept out of the cabin at night and slept under the sun beneath the forest’s canopy. Her small hideaway in the grove near the ancient tomb granted for a blessedly uninterrupted slumber. One could not hammer the corpse of a deer to a door when there was no door, though the fleeting image of Viscerex finding her in her pile of furs and blankets under the trees and flinging a dead buck at her gave cause for some concern before she drifted off into a fitful rest. More banging. Ioreth growled and relinquished the idea of an early nap. By the time Mythandriel returned, her elder cousin was copying down Coth’s more ordinary history into a thick tome. Everything from birth announcements to obituaries to crop yields and dairy cow counts was dutifully dated and recorded, a meticulous task she found meditative. Society was not built on the feats of heroes alone and perhaps future historians would find a use for learning how Cothites once lived. She had been prepared to include the birth of Dale Thimmick’s new foal when she sensed the flurry of Mythandriel’s presence before she bore witness to the damage etched across her kindred’s face. “Myth?” The elvish girl did not even pause to look up, too entangled in the turmoil of her own thoughts. “Mythandriel, what happened? You are hurt. Who? Who would touch you?” She was ignored. Myth stuffed the clothing purchased for her into her pack. Tension seized her jaw and forced her lips into a thin, determined line. The bruise that bloomed on her face looked like a fist, and there was blood on her little cousin’s hands. Ioreth reached out to grab her slender arm, to force the girl to listen, but her hand hovered with hesitation before it balled into a fist and settled at her breast. Fear. It was fear that she felt, fear that urged her to take hold of Mythandriel and shout her questions until they were answered. Pride was its closest mate; pride demanded Mythandriel wait and Ioreth take action. She could not boast that reason won, as surprise held her rooted to the floor when Myth gave her a whisper of a kiss on her cheek and bade her to remain safe. “Remain safe? From whom? Mythandriel!” The morning forest welcomed the lithe she-elf and her bloodstained hands and quietly concealed her from view. The deer’s dead and bulging eyes stared at Ioreth as she stood with her bare feet in the grass, at the ocean blue silk of her robe dragging in the dirt behind her and her loosely tangled hair. Why did she not ask for help? Ioreth’s eyes were not violet, but a swimming, swirling green when she turned back and saw Viscerex standing some distance away. She had not asked because she knew Ioreth would not follow, that Ioreth would have found some clever excuse or duty would have dragged her out of the wilds and Ioreth would have acquiesced. She had not asked because she did not want Ioreth to be present for whatever it was that she felt compelled to do. “Viscerex?” Though her voice was a hoarse whisper, she was certain that he heard her. Only when she came to the barbarian’s side did her irises reclaim their natural color. Raw worry was forced away from her face and replaced with the flickering ghost of a hollow smile. “I need your help once more. You saw Mythandriel run off, did you not? Someone attacked her—there is blood on her hands, she—“ She breathed in, and spoke with more control. “She left without an explanation, but I believe she intends on doing something dangerous. Could you find her, please, and protect her? She is my kin.”
  45. 2 points
    I second Vielle's question. Is it like a sarcastic wow? Cause that's how I'd use it.
  46. 2 points
    What's the difference between 'Superlike' and 'Wow'? 👀 Some sort of higher degree of amazingness or like a 'What?' kind of 'Wow'? 😂
  47. 2 points

    Genesaris News and Updates

    03/13/2019 A relic update. There has been a slight change to the rules regarding the Genesaris Cornerstones. In an effort to avoid players circumventing a large portion of nature behind the stones' system, quest threads for the stones are no longer subject to meaningful interruption. Threads that go without posts for too long will be considered defunct and the stone in question will be made available for other players to obtain via questing.
  48. 2 points
    Parrish - The Lion's Mane Tch... what a detestable woman. Circe leaned against a support beam in a corner of the abandoned inn, sulking as she eyed Lilith from behind. She thought to herself, frustrated by her sound defeat at the hands of the powerful necromancer. Just wait, you wretched witch. One day you'll have your back turned, your guard let down. When that day comes, I'll strike you down. After ransacking Circe's lair, Lilith had practically bound and dragged her to this dilapidated inn. Here they had remained for hours, perhaps days, she hadn't bothered keeping track. Every passing moment in the company of the necromancer felt like an eternity, so what use was there in counting? It was obvious that the woman was waiting for something, biding her time somehow. Despite her personal distaste for Lilith, Circe had no choice but to respect her intellect - she was not the type to act rashly, but neither did she seem the type to idle. Decisively she had come, to the old church where Circe had laid nest, and decisively she had left, upon realizing that she had faulty intelligence. Circe thought back to the oath Lilith had made her swear. In exchange for being useful to her, Circe would keep her life. If she performed her duties to the upmost degree, perhaps further rewards could be obtained. Circe struggled against her pride, but had ultimately made the right decision. Life was all that mattered in that moment; the dead care not for riches, power or freedom. Circe reaffirmed her vow in her heart. I'll follow you for now, witch. I'll be your faithful dog and I'll play that role perfectly. Your power will reinforce my own. Make no mistake, though, once I obtain my freedom from you, I will make you suffer for every single moment you've used me. I'll pay this grudge back ten-fold, no, one hundred-fold! Though Circe was unaware, a hint of black light flashed in her otherwise red eyes as this thought was completed. She continued to sulk in silence, as her eyes bore into Lilith's back.
  49. 2 points

  50. 2 points

    (ARTIFACT) A Master of Space and Self

    @Garion @Maverick Upon the Order of Force Majeure Belisarius-class frigate Imperator Bellum, Master Knight James Eredas awaited his guests, the individuals who would lend their aid to his quest to seek a Genesar Cornerstone. Ever since the warship and its crew went through the Kadian Harrowing, the vessel had become the defacto flagship of the Force Majeure fleet. The veterancy of the crew, in combination with the esoteric and advanced technologies it had picked up and been integrated with, made it one of the most fearsome aerial warships in Valucre. James lay seated now in the war room, a reinforced area behind the bridge. Any moment now, his guests would be escorted into the room with one or two Greatswords at their heels, but while he waited he first reviewed ancient texts and scriptures, maps and myths. It was said that the Cornerstone of Space lay beyond the boundaries, beyond the reach of normal men, or even gods. It lay in realms inaccessible, but here he was going to attempt the impossible, for how could men die better than facing fearful odds? The one clue that James had was to traverse the planes of existence that were connected to Valucre. The Material Plane. The Astral Plane. The Ethereal Plane. The Elemental Plane. The Abyss, There were others, and even sub-realms of the aforementioned planes existed. Had he not travelled through the Harrowing before with the Imperator Bellum, this trip now might not even be possible. Time was different in the other realms, the laws of physics didn't always obey the normal, or they had a new normal in many cases. He would have to travel to many of them, and seek more clues to track down the Cornerstone.
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