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deadcasketburied

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  1. Wonderland Resort: Skiing, Fortunes, and Dancing!

    The journey to the slopes had taken her considerably longer than anticipated, particularly because she’d never actually wanted to have traveled at all. She had spent all of her life—and how long was that, she briefly wondered—living in the outskirts of the shittiest of shit cities known to Terrenus, the atmosphere, ruling class, and sordid populace perfect for a being of her questionable essence. She had just come about one day, sorted out of an imaginary world and given form without a clear purpose beyond existing for existence’s sake. Her earliest of memories involved her stepping out of a giant pond of mud mixed with contaminated human and animal waste, not a soul in sight to cast upon her a name or provide ties of familiarity. For the first few years—and how long had those been anyway—she had dwelled in just that one area, surviving on instinct and experimenting all sorts of abilities that often involved mud, carcasses, insects, and something else far more foul. Over time, the residents of the nearest semi-habitable location took notice of her presence, and she likewise took an interest in their strange and—as she was soon to surmise—pitiful lives. The encounters near fared well; they approached, she smiled with leeches in her teeth, they screamed, she close the distance between them, they retched, she offered her curative services, they ran away in screams and perpetuated the myth she was a monster that was sure to eat them all one day. She never understood their reaction, but learned enough about them through repeated encounters and at a distance observation to conclude they were silly creatures easily spooked and in need of so much help, poor things. All and all, she continued to live her mostly isolated existence for many, many years more, perfecting the art of alchemy, naturalistic healing, and divination, all through the use of mud. She likely would have remained a regional legend, living somewhere near that one territory no one cared for, were it not for the mud changing. She noticed it right away; the smooth texture of the mud began to brittle much too quickly, leaving dried puddles overnight without a chance of restoring them. It began to happen more and more, and none of her skills could prevent the disappearance of her home, leaving her without much of a choice but to abandon the location and seek another. Using bits of magic and the pond that had birthed her, she located another mud pit, rich in nutrients and untapped potential, along the slopes, not too far off from her current location. Were it not for the mud, she would have never have abandoned the only place she'd ever known as home, but alas, the choice was no longer her own. She took off, without a glance back, and relied on her instincts to drive her path. After what seemed far too long, she reached the location that should have what she sought, but something was not quite right. There were too many of them around, the humans she pitied so, too much activity that her magic had not picked up on. But the mud was there—she could almost taste it. There was no going back, really, so she pressed forward, her yellowed eyes bright with anticipation. I can’t wait to take a dive.
  2. Wonderland Resort, Grand Opening!

    did somebody say FORTUNES? Salmo (hold the nella).
  3. Salmo.

    --General: Name: Salmo Klebsi Enteria. Nicknames: Sal. Age: Undetermined. Birthplace: Contaminated mud ditch on the outskirts of Patia. Occupation: Naturalist, herbalist, healer, fortune teller, undertaker. --Physical attributes: Eyes: Pale yellow. Hair: Teal, let loose. Height: Five foot. Notable characteristics: Horn-like appendage from the top of her head, red in color and sharp to the touch. --Attire: Upper body: Hand stitched halterneck gown, sullied by dirt and other contaminants that can only come about from the sordid area that is Patia. Lower body: Worn out sandals. --History: Once rumored to have been born out of the mud, molded in the image of a twisted forest nymph. Those that have sought her—or whatever it is—deep in lands unclaimed are immediately made aware of her presence: the pungent smell gives her away. If that is not enough to turn one’s stomach and prompt a quick retreat, the look of her will do enough to scar the heart and mangle the mind. It has been hypothesized by those that have lived through the ordeal that she is no creature made of mud, but something more akin to shit—a likely hypothesis given the location of her origin.
  4. [Ravenspire] Finally.

    The Titan fulfilled his end of the bargain and divulged his name to all within earshot. He claimed to have many names, but that for their future interactions, she was welcomed to address him as Farkis. Without prompt from anyone, Farkis described his time as a wanted and nearly incarcerated man in the lands of Terrenus, a location she had only studied briefly in her lessons. He casually spoke of the devastation he unleashed with a virus, and the Terrenians’ understandable reaction to it. She wondered if there was more to the story than that brief ending, but the current stiff company and “serious” issue at hand prevented the continuation of that particular conversation. What a shame that such nonsense had been started, particularly over some creature that appeared to have no connection to any important source of power. Well oh well, it would all end soon enough. Altair continued to engage her—or rather, bait her with comments of her forgotten titles and apparent disinterest. Amused by his assumptions, Helena peeled off her indifference and rewarded him with a true smile. “You speak of old titles assigned to me, my Lord. It is best to look towards the future, wouldn’t you say? Princess Rosinder just wouldn’t do.” She leaned in close to his ear, as much as she could given their height difference. “Queen Rosinder has a nicer ring to it.” She decided to drop all pretenses, and enjoy whatever transpired next. They were let into the private quarters of the creature that had started it all, and was liable to pay the consequences for disrupting the Titan’s time as a guest of the Kadian Empire. The moment Farkis stepped in, the supposedly maimed girl shrieked in horror, her wretched and insignificant existence reduced to an even sadder state—rather remarkable, given her scum of the earth status. Thoroughly entertained, Helena watched and waited, the orb-like item she had received from Farkis earlier shining brightly in her hand.
  5. For Joyeuse.

    Charmaine aimlessly walked the streets of her childhood, the sweetest of memories occupying her thoughts. They were brief, those moments of bliss, but she recalled every single one, and enjoyed reliving them as she navigated through paved roads. The farther and deeper along she went, she recognized more and more, and before long, Charmaine stood on the outskirts of her family’s grand home. It was just as it had always been, she thought with a brief smile, just as such a great House should and was expected to be—unchanged by the flow of time. Though she had been gone for years, she knew the routine set by her ancestors hundreds of years ago remained a constant in the Magnus household. Should she venture inside, she was sure to find her parents in the main sitting room enjoying a cup of tea and light conversation which was to last until a quarter past nine, then both would bid each other good night with a light kiss and retire to their private rooms. Her brother, set to inherit the title of Grand Lord, was likely reviewing the activities of the many businesses and venues owned by the family, ensuring all was in working order to keep their House prosperous. It had all seem so mundane once upon a time, so antiquated and tedious; and yet, after all she had encountered and survived, Charmaine longed for a day of predictable tranquility, where the harsh realities of the world could not touch her. She wanted to keep moving forward, erase the distance that kept her from her home and separate her from her family. Impulsively, she took a step forward, and another, and a couple of more, just enough to bring her out of the shadows and into the well-lit street that showcased her home. It was so close, just a couple of steps more. She could so easily step to the guards outside, announce her identity, and within minutes be met with tear-soaked cheeks and hugs from her parents (perhaps a scold or two here and there, and some apologies expected as well). She could have that old life back if she just kept moving forward, just a few more steps. “I can’t.” She whispered to herself, her fingertips caressing the tilt of her weapon. “Not yet. Not ever perhaps. But definitely not now.” With one last look at her childhood home, and her hand firmly planted against her sword, Charmaine turned on her heel and headed back to the inn, the momentary stop in her current adventure. She had to finish it, she resolved for the millionth time, she just had to see the mystery of Joyeuse end.
  6. [Ravenspire] Finally.

    “Ah, but of course,” Helena acknowledged, a small, empty smile curving her lips. “Theirs is a powerful union, and Renovatio is blessed for their firm guidance.” Or at least, she mused as they continued to move forward despite her noninvolvement in the matter, that is what the elites liked to repeat among themselves; she had never met either ruler, and thus could not ascertain to the validity of such claims. Altair hinted, ever oh so strongly, of a possible meeting with Kadia’s ruling members, a strange thing to offer to someone of her limited political position. She was, after all, merely a decorative piece, cherished and protected only because of her rarity and otherworldly appearance. She knew, as they all knew, she was without power or influence. In any case, she would not oppose such a meeting, mainly because she had no authority to do so, but who was to say, perhaps it could benefit her in some way someday. “That would be a lovely honor, Sire. I look forward to it.” She smiled again, just as empty as before. Through the various snippets of conversation, Helena learned of the issue at hand and found the situation all that much more amusing. Though she remained trapped in Altair’s grip, her head turned towards the Titan, her eyes turning that unusual bright green again and a wide, perverse smile breaking the detached countenance she preferred to wear. His quiet, powerful aura enticed her, the thinly veiled threats he uttered chilled her, and his unexpected humor elicited a peculiar giggle. She knew it was in her best interest to look away and keep quiet, but she was having so much fun, it was difficult to disengage. “My, oh my,” She whispered, but she was certain Altair could hear, “This is something else, isn’t it? I do hope nothing serious comes of this.”
  7. Valucre Discord downsize

  8. two travelers meet among wizened wood

    Dove offered only her name, all other pertinent information regarding her person left unsaid. Valentina was not the least bit bothered by it, having dealt extensively with plenty of individuals that preferred to keep identifying details hidden, for whatever reason. In any case, their meeting was a casual affair, unlikely to yield any lasting impact on either of their careers as researchers or living creatures; any further exchange of personal information was completely unnecessary. Far more intriguing, however, was the purpose behind Dove’s presence in the grand library. She was looking for a peculiar item, a so-called Wandering Scroll that—as its name implied—was apparently capable of movement and some kind of consciousness. “The Wandering Scroll, you say?” Valentina searched her memory, recalled nothing of such a wondrous thing. “I’m afraid I’ve never come across anything about it. What can it do? How was it created? How do you know it is in this place? What are its characteristics?” Automatically, Valentina reached for her small notebook and pencil, inched closer to the edge of the sofa in anticipation for the incoming knowledge she was about to receive. Not once during the whole interlude did Valentina doubt Dove’s tale, certain in such a chaotic and vast world an item with such features existed and perhaps lingered nearby. Eager to learn more, it took Valentina a delayed second to catch the last of Dove’s words. “Hm? Stuck in this state?” She scanned the girl, noted no signs of physical or mental ailments. Then again, such things were often difficult to detect, particularly if at an early stage of an illness. “I hope I’m not too forward, but whatever do you mean by that?” Valentina eased back some, adopted a more considerate approach. “This item you are looking for, can it…”cure” whatever state you speak of?”
  9. Something of worth.

    “A dragon! They truly exist? Oh, imagine that!” Enamored and distracted with images of majestic, massive, powerful, and beautiful dragons, Camila failed to recognize her companion’s progressively weaker constitution. She had stayed a few feet ahead, eager to return to her temporary residence and put an end to the unknown status of her fate, as well as gain access to the proper medical care Ezekiel needed to recover from his injuries. She glanced back every so often, started to note the signs of the warrior’s rapid deterioration. “Don’t worry,” she assured him as she dashed back to his side, “I will get you the help you need. In fact, not too much longer now! I should be able to get somebody to help bring you the rest of the way, if you want to rest. Yes, perhaps that is best.” She took off ahead again, just a couple of feet, but hesitated at the last second, uncertain the warrior could be left to his own devices until she located and mobilized the help needed. Ultimately, she decided there was not much else she could do for him, and with one last look, Camila prepared to leave him where he stood—or would have, had Ezekiel not just collapsed. “Ezekiel!” Camila gasped, ran back to his side as fast, and dropped to her knees to examine if he still belonged to the land of the living. It was faint, but she could see the rise and fall of his chest, indicating his heart and lungs had not given up just yet. Curious bystanders peered down at the unconscious man, ignored Camila’s cries for help, and continued on their way, certain the warrior was just some poor drunkard that could use a sobering nap against the hard ground. Tears poured down her cheeks, her cries turned into sobs, and she was without a clue on how to help the dying man. Between gulps of air and blurry eyes, Camila saw that several of Ezekiel’s wounds had opened and were slowly bleeding him out. “Ezekiel, please open your eyes! I don’t know what to do…I…” She watched as a pool of blood formed, her tears and sobs ending abruptly. Seemingly mesmerized, Camila directed her index finger to one of his wounds and impulsively shoved the digit right into opened flesh. “You are dying, aren’t you?” She whispered, twisting her finger against his flesh. “What a pity, all that work too, for the lantern. Was it all worth your life? Are you going to die here? Hm? Hm??” She shoved her finger deeper in, chuckled in a way that was not her own. It took some time, but the pleading cries of her spirits reached her mind, and just as suddenly as her trance began, it ended and left behind a terrified girl. “What….what…am I…” Horrified by her actions, she jerked up to her feet, her hands stained by his blood. “Ezekiel, I am sorry, I don’t know what—“ This is not the time for that, her spirits reminded her, you must get help. She obeyed without delay, heading straight for her temporary home, her cries loud and desperate. “Please, anyone! Please help!”
  10. [Ravenspire] Finally.

    Helena emerged victorious in the little game, her outstretched hand the recipient of the gift promised. The complex geometrically shaped item, an ethereal blue, rested in her palm, its fragile appearance concealing its monumental importance—well, at least to the person whose life was tethered to it. The details of that life—name, age, status, relevance—were unknown to her, and as such, Helena considered letting the item drop and shatter, freeing herself from the burden of keeping a potentially inconsequential person alive and breathing and wasting the good Earth’s resources. It would be rather bothersome, she thought as she toyed with the million-sided item as she let it inch closer to the edge of her palm, to carry the thing around for the rest of the evening; she was, after all, without a purse, such items often unnecessary in these sorts of events. “A lovely color,” she commented, still unsure of what action she’d take in regards to it. “I may yet treasure it for its beauty, if nothing else.” For the moment, she decided to shift attention to the second part of the bargain, still unfulfilled. “And your name, good sir? I do believe we also wagered upon it. Or am I to truly believe you are Trevor? Would be an interesting name for a…” She toured her eyes over his gigantic presence, decided she could not name his origin. “…creature such as yourself.” Before she could receive an answer, the two were interrupted by the presence of some kind of beast accompanied by a stern man and some guards. Their business was with her companion, and she, ever the decorative doll, made no movement or sound as they exchanged words. It became clear, as the conversation progressed, that her close proximity to the Titan had earned her a tag of suspicion, and she would not be able to excuse herself, as she had planned to do so within the next few minutes. Tied to her position, Helena stood serene, her stance mimicking that of a statue, eerily beautiful and lifeless. The hand that fell upon her hip did not beak her transformation right away; rather, she turned her head slowly to cast her eyes on the one that touched her, was informed enough to recognize and accept his authority as a member of the royal family and offered him a small nod as a sign of acknowledgment. He spoke to the others for a bit, brought a question to her, and continued to speak of what was to come. “Helena, Sire, ward of the Eloheim House of Renovatio.” She shifted to turn more towards him, her bright green eyes holding his for only a brief moment. “I am rather confused by this all. Am I being detained? I’m afraid I have nothing of importance to share; I know nothing of whatever it is that is going on.” @Alexei @Praetorian
  11. I'm old. Like REALLY old.

    Welcome to the board oldie! I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for here!
  12. Magdalena.

    --General information-- Given name: Magdalena. Used name: Magdalena Victoria Amorielle Casperina Matterius. Age: Twenty years old. Birthplace: Kadia. Occupation: Painter. --Physical characteristics-- Height: Five-foot-five. Eye color: Green. Hair color: Black. Body type: Average. --Attire-- Head: Scarf covering whole hair. Body: Form-fitting robe, with one shoulder left bare. Feet: Sandals. --Basic history-- A nobody, born full of talent and ambition.
  13. two travelers meet among wizened wood

    Dove’s request, albeit a tad bit odd, was within Valentina’s comfortability to fulfill. Without the need for the contents of the book in her hand, she placed the item back in its slot, redirected her attention towards the girl. It occurred to her, particularly after the word “Miss” was uttered, that she had yet to properly introduce herself. “Oh, I can do that. Well, for starters,” she extended her hand out for a shake, the custom ingrained in her through years of training as a charming, polite, and personable merchant, all traits needed in the wheel and deal environment that was business. “Valentina Nexula, a pleasure to meet you.” She, daughter of a renowned genius and entrepreneur, always supplied her full name and expected it to be recognized—well, at least in Terrenus. The kingdom of Genesaris and its inhabitants were less likely to know the name, and as a result, respond without much enthusiasm to it. The day, passed away shut behind massive concrete walls and millions of faded pages, was almost over; even without Dove’s interruption, Valentina surmised she would have paused her search anyway, found her way back to the rooms she had rented, and spent the night crafting items and weapons out of imaginary thoughts, just as she had always done ever since she learned to properly hold pencil to paper. “I am visiting from Ignatz, the holy capital of Terrenus, where I work and reside. Taking after my father, I am in the business of inventions, particularly weapons.” Valentina recalled a small sitting area off to the side, considered it ample suitable for their small talk interlude, and began to move towards it. “We could sit there, if you don’t mind.” “I’m here searching for more information on certain beings of interest to me. You see, my friend of many years, may have a connection to them, and I’d like to help him find out as much information as possible. After all, it is what I do.” The sitting area consisted of a table, two well used mini sofas set opposite one another, and the bright light of an equally ancient lamp, all the expected decor of a monument built for knowledge. “I have not seen him in many years,” she confessed, a dash of sadness flavoring her words, “but I suspect he is well, and likely to visit soon—so I’d like to have some news for him.” Valentina dropped to one of the available seats, the cushion unexpectedly comfortable and soft. “And you? Why are you here? Oh, forgive me, I neglected to ask your name.”
  14. talk 2 carlos 2.0

    @Mag
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