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About Chris488

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  1. "May I ask where you are from, Trevan?" Saoirse queries the elf in her quiet voice after a quick mention to the server that anything without meat would be much appreciated. In contrast to his averted gaze, Saoirse's hollow eyes are focused, piercing like a well aimed lance, though brittle like glass, and never leaving Trevan's form except for a momentary glance towards the server. This man was beginning to irritate her with his smiles and grace, but she had heard tales of elves and their cunning. She knew she must tread carefully in this world of magic and fey creatures, her otherworldly sense ever warning her of their presence. When she regains her strength after eating, perhaps there might be ought elsewhere that could provide her with a weapon at least.
  2. Saoirse shrugs, then glances towards the gold on the table, attempting to ascertain its mint, its origin, and its value. Her gaze shifts to Luci, and she offers the generous girl a shadow of a smile. "Thank you, though I would encourage you not to so freely reveal your wealth. It could bring unwanted attention to you." She warns. "Though... if you offer it freely, I will gladly accept your kindness." The words are spoken soft and quiet like silk-song, Saoirse struggled to sound friendly and polite, such unfamiliar words in her lexicon. Cracks spread through her mask, and seen behind it is an emotionless face, weary and cold. Her frozen eyes turn to the man tending the bar, offering food and drink to customers. Once more, Saoirse's stomach cries out in hunger. She sees others in the tavern carrying food and drink to patrons, and hides her relief behind frosty features as a server asks those gathered at the table if they're ready to order. Saoirse silently looks at Luci and the pouch of coins, uncertain of how to reply and subtly gesturing for another to answer the server.
  3. "I prefer freedom, not being at the mercy of others and fate. I was referring to gambling though." In the empty blue of her eyes, a small flame flickers, glittering in a frozen sea, and dancing akin to an aurora in the sky. "Does the elven lord know of misfortune? Have you suffered ill luck, and speak a truth from your own past? I confess I am curious." Saoirse asks, as she tilts her head and awaits an answer. Easily heard is the growing fatigue that echoes in her voice, as she struggles to hold onto the illusion of composure and calm. Her hunger and her fear only agitating Saoirse further. She silently apologizes in her own mind, unable to articulate her regret and shame aloud, too prideful or too anxious. Sleep beckons like a mother calling to her child, and Saoirse realized that she sought such warmth, craved it. Yet she remained awake in this strange wonderland.
  4. With the eye-blinding light gone, and her vision returned, Saoirse blinks as she studies the recently arrived man and his talking cat. She shifts her gaze back to Trevan and chuckles. "No, I am anything but lucky." The self-proclaimed unfortunate woman strokes her chin as she considers recent happenings, her gaze drifting towards the endless network of rafters above. "I am need of a blade, and clothes. Shelter as well." Her eyes become focused as she glances back at the Trevan with a determined gaze. "Where I am from, such hospitality and kindness always has a price. It seems more and more wanderers find themselves here. Why, I wonder?" Saoirse's question is followed by a complaint from her stomach, a desperate cry for food and drink. She closes her eyes, perhaps hiding in the darkness to avoid her shame, perhaps to imagine a meal and enjoy a feast in the theater of her mind, or to continue contemplating her ponderings, alas it is unknown.
  5. "Hmm... if you do not mind additional company, I would join you." Saoirse strides towards a seat, and positions herself gracefully at the table. "I have no coin though..." She looks at her empty hands, marred by scars and rough callouses, then down at her attire, at its ripped and stained state. "It seems I have little of anything at the moment." "I apologize, lord Trevan, I ask that you forgive me for my rudeness. I hate to impose upon you, but do you know where we are? My memories are clouded by a haze, and I cannot recall where I came from." Saoirse's voice becomes more and more hollow with each word. Doubt stabs her like an unseen knife, and exhaustion continues to wash over her akin to waves from an boundless sea upon the weathered shore. Why upon sensing an undead did she feel like she knew a part of who she was? Why upon hearing the name Luci did she feel like she remembered why she was here? Why upon seeing Trevan, did her heart ache with a forgotten sorrow? ((Going to sleep, will be awake at 12pm PST)
  6. Saoirse blinks, and ponders the question posed by Luci. "Does the towering heights of this tavern, and those that dwell here not have an otherworldly aspect to them? Perhaps I am dreaming, or perhaps I am a witless fool unable to make sense of what is before me. I have only recently arrived and I know not of this place." Saoirse watches Luci more closer, measuring the woman with her gaze. Saoirse's eyes are as cold as ice, and as deep as the sea, though shadows hang over them as though she had lacked having much sleep recently. Despite her torn and filthy garb, Saoirse seems to carry herself with pride, akin to a knight or highborn lady. She speaks softly, but her words are spoken with a paradoxically blunted sharpness. "I wonder, how long have you been here, Luci?"
  7. She hides her hands behind her back, but offers a friendly smile instead to Inocybe. "My name is Saoirse. Hmm... I wish we were meeting under more pleasant circumstances, friend. Though It seems this place is for wanderers like you and I, that is what I think." Saoirse brings a hand up and weaves her hair around her fingers, until tossing her hair behind once more. The long tangled strands seem to absently bother her, the motion almost mechanical. She glances around the room once more, and frowns. "What a weird place this is, like the beginning of a nightmare." Her divine sense would not forget the presence of the unholy, and her mind seemed clouded as though she were enchanted. Saoirse peers at Inocybe, hoping to find perhaps a friend in this unknown realm. "Inocybe, you're named after a mushroom?" She asks.
  8. While awaiting an answer from the strangers, the woman notices another in the room. She shakes her head as the stench of death and blood assails her nostrils. Her gaze rests upon a man simply pointing while nearby another that seemed strange as well, but her divine sense reacted to his undead presence, and the mere sight of him begets aches and darkness in her mind. Fear shines in her eyes for a second, quickly replaced with an empty stare until she realizes that perhaps averting her sight from him would be better. She returns to waiting for her question to be answered, though more weary not of what may dwell in this place... Questions and more questions fill her, hanging on the tip of her tongue. Patience has never been her strength, but she must attain information if she wishes to survive.
  9. Her hand swims through her messy strands of hair, tossing them over her shoulder like a cloak, as she begins to walk towards where she sees others conversing. There is excitement in her eyes and the shadow of a smile on her lips. She moves with purpose. "I apologize for intruding, but I am wondering where I am? I've become lost." She stands before these strangers, curious what awaits her, and exuding boldness akin to an emperor before his subjects, or perhaps akin to a hunter that has found its prey.
  10. She did not expect a warm welcome when she wandered lost in the dark, only to find herself stepping through a door into what appeared to be a tavern. Though this tavern was unlike any she had seen before, so strange and magical in nature. The only notable features about this young woman are her overly large boots that seemed to border being simply too big, and her earring that glows softly like a lonely star in the night sky. She sighs, tired but not afraid. Not anxious despite her dirt stained and ragged garb marking her as poor, and as an outsider here. At a cautious pace, she wanders towards what she assumed to be the place where one might ask for drink, and possibly food. This is a new beginning, she realizes. Her eyes search across the room for anything familiar, for a memory of hope and belonging.
  11. Thank you so much. I'm just an anxious person, and didn't want to interject myself into a place and annoy others. Alright, I shall proceed to search for those foolish enough let me message them! A story we shall create! And enlightenment/entertainment we shall achieve!
  12. The process of joining a group is confusing for me, I'm not sure where to post, and what the process looks like. Step 3 says post? I'm afraid that's too vague for me. I've played games like DnD, and a single session of Pathfinder, in terms of TTRPGs, but I was hoping to find something more story focused, less gamey, if you will. Also, thank you! I am still reading the lore of the setting, which is why I may also be having some difficulty finding where to post. I think I'm in need of direct guidance.
  13. My name is Chris, and I hope that I have found an opportunity to explore the fantastical and the wondrous on this site. I am new to play-by-post, but I'm familiar with RPGs and consider myself proficient regarding literacy, so I should not have too much difficulty, I think? I'm searching for stories involving the alien, the abstract, and the dramatic. I am awake from 12pm to 11pm PST, most days of the week, and very active online. And lastly, I am eager to join any groups willing to accept a fool such as myself!
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