SweetCyanide

Everything is happening too fast, Grigori thinks. Just a moment ago he was holding Alethea in his arms, trying to console her like a stubborn brat punching at his sternum and god did it hurt; over the fact that he may have been the reason that Sefir had been killed (brutally so) by poking the faerie, (he still can't get over it himself) and now what? The girl's old friend turns out to be a new enemy? A little slither from his mouth in the words of 'shit' completely express the ever-changing mood of Grigori when time seemed to slow down. An appropriate pace, might he add, he just needed a breather. > LEAP across the floating rocks, using them as footholds, and retrieve Laurent. Grigori supposes that was the right action. He hopes Setsuko won't mind, given the fact that he'd just left her on a crumbling chunk of ground. Er. Alethea too, actually. Caught up in the moment of retrieving Laurent, it had come to his attention that his hand is dangling from a bone off his wrist. He supposes that happened when debris ensnared his right hand. "Get your fucking ass up here," He hisses, along with other nonsensical babble that he scolded Laurent with. Grigori hauls Laurent's ass up on the rooftop and takes another breather. He punches him in the back before leaping again, in the direction of Alethea.

4/10 ill have a post up soon!! but first, >ATTEMPT to use powers by listening to the chaos

cash me outside how bou da

tfw when @jaistlyn suggests poking the faerie with the stick and then accidentally putting both and all of our characters through a traumatic experience by experiencing the definition of pure pain and the death of sefir via skewer and get teleported and wonder if quetz is dying inside and alethea punches you in the chest thus leading to a moment of self-reflection if poking the faerie with the stick was a very bad fucking idea

Grigori wakes up again. The pain is gone but a ringing splits his ears. Confused, dazed, and frustrated, he is unable to rip his feet from the ground they've rooted. Sefir (he thinks) is yelling, he cant tell, and he tries to redirect his spinning eyes to the direction she points. He's yanked back then, thank god he thinks, as he snaps out of his daze when he hits himself in the face. Quetzalcoatl carves a path for them to run. He snaps his head at the others and his vision isn't coordinated with the movement. "Let's go," He manages to say when his world is spinning. He's trying to blink the stars away, desperately. It isn't long before a sharp fragment of reality skewers Sefir, God—oh god—then another skewer, and the other. Grigori is going to be sick; everything is happening too fast, he doesn't know what's happening— "Go." He looks at Quetzalcoatl. He looks at the others. Grigori shares with them a second of gazes before nodding, intending to run when they do.

That hurt. Everything is just as I remembered. I move to the fireplace and look at the photos on the shelf. They're there, like always. I'm actually smiling in these. When has that ever happened? I want to take the picture and hold it closer to my eyes to see it better, but I can't find it in myself to do that. I tell myself I'm tired, but it's something else. When's Asya coming back? The clock's not ticking. Damn thing's broken already. I walk to the window and look outside. A vast expanse of white. Nothingness. We're floating in nothingness. I'm utterly speechless when my logic is turned against me. Is this another dream? Can't be. I just woke up. I'm at HOME. >DONT FUCKING PANIC. RUN TO THE OTHER WINDOWS. Walk. Stop. Look. A labyrinth. An apartment. Floating. Floating? Where is this? Where is Asya? >RUN TO THE OTHER WINDOWS. Walk. Stop. Look. Floating. What the fuck is this? Need to get out here. Need to get her out of here. >RUN TO HER ROOM. I open the door. "Uncle?" A pair of wings welcome me. I feel it again. G R I G O R I 

Raine Rhodlyn ✦ "Des—" Raine disappeared into a suffocating hug. Their drastic difference in height ultimately resulted in Raine completely disappearing into Desmond's chest, rendering her lithe frame helpless against the man's affection. A prolonged, strangled squeak emerged from the girl, struggling to breathe and struggling to keep her feet on the floor as she wrapped small hands around his back. "I—missed—you—too," She certainly has. This devilish dope he is, she wonders if he is still the same. Curiosity ran through her head in circles. In these years that they have not spoken with one another, she wonders what is new about him, if he has hardened himself into the powerful Maharaja of Kalopsia and what of it, what does he think? Silently, she recalls the blood forming on his brow. Is he okay? Resting her fingers against his silken shoulders, she eases herself into this tight embrace; melting into what she once thought as a back-breaking hold. As a physical manifestation of a reverie, her presence radiates a warmth of loveliness, an air of pleasantry—and it increased greatly in physical touch. It certainly is because Raine is a peculiar being of the arcane; a witch, after all. After a moment that seemed to last about a lifetime, Raine had been given a bit of room to breathe in their suffocating reunion. What are you doing here, Desmond asks. She laughed; a laugh no different than that of a child's. A radiation of innocence, she was. "I am visiting!" She chirped, not an ounce of shyness slurring at her speech now that they were pried away from the crowd who were too eager to throw a stone at their own ruler. Visiting, yes, Raine is only visiting. She knows not of Desmond's arising suspicion, so she smiles up at him with eyes that may as well be a pair of blue gems encased in ice. Desmond's eyes were the complete opposite. Black. They may as well absorb all the light that goes through it. "I have gone to many places in Valucre. It crossed my mind why I have not come here yet." They release the hug. "I wanted to see how you are doing!" She holds his hand, scarred and worn by time. "It would be sad if I never visit, no?" Raine smiles, places her hand on his; soft, fragile, pleasantly cold, like they've never been touched by hardship. She and Desmond contrasted one another like the night and day. Very much different from one another in appearance, though they both kept a similar air of charming awkwardness. Desmond could note that Raine did not age, instead, she had become more fairer, more mature. One of the many given perks of being immortal, it seems. Raine places her hands on Desmond's cheeks and exclaims: "Oh, how old you look now!" Also, she has become much less shy from their last encounter. Since Desmond is a friend and not much formality is required of her (Although said friend is the powerful ruler of Kalopsia). She turns and angles his face, examining him in curiosity on tip-toed feet. "You look so tired," she says, and she runs a thumb through a silver-lined hair on his head before dropping down, "but I believe that is understandable." The next time she speaks, her voice becomes gentle. "How have you been, Desmond?"

roses are red, violets are blue >DIE

Raine Rhodlyn, It was entirely unintentional, her hair being the same shade of the petals and whatnot. Raine had never gone to the Hanami Festival before, so it was a surprise to see that she had perfectly fit in! And seeing as she'd perfectly fit in, she took the liberty of taking off her hood. It was certainly a rare gesture, but it was only considered rare because humans tend to stop and stare and ponder in harmless curiosity of how much a girl with pink hair would sell. And alas, here surrounded by demons and alike, there was no such need to fear for her life. Hence the bold approach of wandering around with her face out in the open. Wondrous displays of magic were thriving here in the festival, each hosted by benevolent yokai who had powerfully woven tricks and illusions for children and all to see. There was a show where a yokai had breathed fire, and another one where a beautiful woman stretched her neck out to great lengths! Ultimately, it scared.. most of the children. And, somewhere situated on a bench by a garden, there was a little magic show of her own. "Again, again!" And again and again it spun, the marvelous illusions illustrated by the tip of her fingers. Raine grinned, materializing within two closed palms a concentration of magic. "Are you ready?" She asked the children: eyes full of wonder and minds full of expectation. Each child furiously nodded their head and shouted yes, to which Raine replied with by opening her hands. A tiny dragon shot up like fireworks, leaving trails of glitter and residual sparkle. It's hide shone reflected rainbows, it's presence ethereal. The children all responded in excitement, meaning to catch the illusions with their own hands but always found that it slipped right past them. Some tripped on the grass, one of them screamed louder in surprise when the dragon had poofed it's size larger. Raine laughed, her elbows planted on her knees as she sat there. When it had been grabbed, the dragon turned into colorful bubbles. Each bubble formed a tiny dragon. Now the children were chasing a flock of tiny dragons. Raine laughed again. (A pained wince. The dragons are fading in and out.) On her shoulder, a young pixie materialized. A girl, whose skin shone like clean-cut amethyst and whose legs were those of a faun. Her wings fluttered behind her, though she hovered toward Raine as if drifting through air. "Aren't you tired yet?" Murmur asked, staring beady eyes into baby blue ice. "Ha," Raine chuckled, "yes, actually, I do suppose I am quite tired." "Hmmm." She gave a long thoughtful thought. She fluttered higher and left a trail of pixie dust. "You want me to fill in for you, Miss? It's about time you get a snack!" "A snack?" "Yeah!" She pointed a tiny digit towards the shops. "Ain't you seen the cakes yet? They're awesome." "Well. If they are, eh?" Raine blinked. "Awesome," she gestured, "then you won't mind replacing me for little while?" "Not one bit." "Oh, very good!" Raine bolted from her seat, swishing her black robe. "Be right back." Murmur made an enthusiastic thumbs-up. She spun behind her and threw herself at the children. Wow! They all giggled, A fairy! The witch happily made her way to the food carts on the side of the street. The air blowing through her carried with it the Regent's yoki.

>EXAMINE strange humanoid >POKE strange humanoid with stick

oh my god yes

>VAMONOS mi amigos

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ He never left Hell's Gate for any reason other than battlefields and emergencies. Stepping into the Baron's throne room, Ramsey had felt immensely overwhelmed. As a man who's never really experienced much of the wonders of magic in Terrenus, he was easily fascinated by the plants and the moss and the insects each glowing a different color. He wanted to look at the flowers, maybe consider taking them home with him and adding to his collection of house-grown plants, but he was presently aware of the fact that they were brought here because of a very important reason. They're still like dogs on a leash. Now that they have to actually work for the Baron, they have to, what, kill the golems? "Are we to kill them?" Iris asked him a question. It took too long to process because he was going to complain to himself. He looked at her face and he tensed up. "What? No," he turned to look at the guards, "not them," he gestured, "the golems." A beat passed and he found that he wasn't so sure about that. "Right?" He whispered, maybe to someone, but mostly to himself. Glancing back at Iris, he remembered to keep a safe distance away from the woman. After she was handed over to Ramsey for a little check-up, he found out that Iris was a walking-talking pit of poison whose voluptuous body and pretty face was specifically designed to kill you from where you stand. He was standing right next to Iris, hence his discomfort. Yeah, she's cute, but it's not cute when you know that she knows she wanted to kill someone already judging from her innocently asked question of when we're supposed to kill these guys. Ramsey was pretty innocent in this. Who would've thought he'd be included in a do or die mission with the rest of the Casimir and her hectic captain along with a hot carrier of death. He tried to take his mind off it. Something he found himself doing all the time. He moved a cigarette in his fingers. A cigarette, now that his helmet was off and he got to smell the scent of sweet elven magic pulsing at his feet, and, well, since these are technically plants and they were on the ceiling, on the walls, on the floor, everywhere in essence actually, Ramsey wasn't quite sure if he was allowed to smoke in here. That's bad, right? Smoking near plants is bad? Ramsey took one more look at them, the plants. Then he looked at the cigarette thought: fuck it. Who's gonna stop me? No one. A small flame lit up on the tip of his thumb. It sparked the embers to his smoky addiction and he breathed it in. He flicked his wrist and the flame poofed. Ramsey was lucky smoking couldn't actually kill him. Hell, he'd be dead by now if he were never able to physically throw up fire. Iris looked at him. He looked at her back. “I’ll need my equipment,” she says, and he's immediately suspicious, “to help.” Ramsey only raises a brow and stupidly smirk. "Ha," he responded, a visible cloud of grey spilling from his lips, "I don't know what to tell you." He really doesn't. What's she really planning to do with it? "Call me paranoid, but you tried to reach for my tools when I had my back turned on you." Help? Is that some kind of bluff? "Sorry lady, but I don't trust you." Also, you can probably kill my dog with a snuggle. A puff of smoke. "Ask Echo."

it would be an honor

First second, he was swinging a fist at an invisible vomit man, and the next, he was absolutely missing it because he was invisible, and then—the next NEXT— The meat on his skull pulled back, followed by a sensation which he thought was his brain hitting his skull, but was actually the side-effects of some zany-ass space warp travel that they once again flung in. Grigori stumbles and falls, smashing his elbow into the chalk-white ground. He snapped his head around to take in his surroundings. A canyon. His mind still focused on the girl: Setsuko, is she still— Click. "Identify yourselves." Before they could, the girl, the other one, with the snakes, says hi. Then completely blacks out. Almost immediately a woman scurried to her side, and as she did, Grigori walked over to Setsuko, crouched down, and violently shook her by the shoulders. "Hmm." He simply says. Completely satisfied with the fact that she's still alive. He decides to carry her on his back, seeing that it would take some time for her to snap out of a traumatic experience.. Alethea makes a stretcher and Laurent just stands there like usual. He nodded to them, and started to walk.