LastLight

Momentarily, in his uncertainty, Zeph stiffened his legs to push himself upright in case what he had projected into Lilith was drowned away completely within her. The change, however, was immediate. It manifested as hesitation, something invisible staying her hand at that moment and sweeping her mind away in another direction. Her eyes departed. Not dead, just distracted, and when he could see that the distraction was deeper than any ocean on this planet Valucre and it was a long journey that awaited her now, his legs softened and he dropped to his knees again. He drew in deep breaths, watching her through a gaze that wanted desperately to show how tired he was but refused. As he knelt there, he contemplated her, wondered if whether at some point during her suffering she would recognize that her sense of superiority had been unwarranted all this time. Despite her raw capacity for violence surpassing that of most human beings and despite her immunity to physical trauma, all things that could be seen as traits that marked her a greater being, here she was, wallowing in despair. She resembled many of the people she killed today. Those exact people that she disparaged for their weaknesses just moments before. Admittedly, that was a fantasy. Hoping that these realizations would manifest and bring her mind crumbling down in glorious flames was perhaps childish. What he didn't know was that it wasn't the woman's despair alone that was triggering the reaction. It was the juxtaposition between the woman's despair and Lilith's own that had done it. Just as he was allowing his arms to settle, he spotted a great unnatural force beginning to emanate from her and this time, he tensed completely without a shadow of a doubt. The necromantic energies exploded out in every direction, as if in her desperation she had chosen to erase everything around her in an instant. Before it could do so, the surrounding area began to glow that same shine from when it rained earlier and the only organic traces that were ravaged by the outburst were ones that belonged to no living being. Although he was able to stop it, he watched the lunar energies closely, aware that with a flick of her hand she could send that spiraling out in every direction as well and he lacked the power to stop it. The understanding that the only solution was to neutralize her set in and with gritted teeth he propelled himself to his feet before he began to walk towards her. Slowly, he leaned into a wobbly jog, struggling not to stumble onto the floor. The final vestiges of his power appeared as a small green glow in his right hand. Though minuscule in size, it was furious. It crackled and popped like a rapid flame. "In the name of all those you murdered today, I will bring a proper end to you."

Stello was a master at gathering eyes. The way he had removed his button up shirt and maintained a serious and self absorbed expression worked wonders. Singles and some spoken for who glimpsed his features often found themselves stealing brief glances more times than originally intended, mesmerized by his confidence. He captivated all the simple minded folk, as it were, while the Leper gobbled up the attention of those with something more profound to offer. After watching as Ioreth lifted a protective shroud over their belongings, he acknowledged it as if had been the plan all along and that manner of expertise was the norm among their group. Now he wore one of his characteristically showy t-shirts, this one gray with the logo of his shop reflecting light from its holographic surface, threatening to blind the poor birds in flight above. By the time the others began moving in the direction the winds of fate carried them, Stello had identified something of interest and was already moving towards it. Unsurprisingly, the shop in question dealt in metal craft but rather than nothing but weapons, there were tools hanging on display as well. Survival tools, mostly. There was something resembling a machete with a serrated spine and a strange gap, also along the spine, near where the handle met the metal. Knowing next to nothing about survival, he saw fit to learn what a survivalist might appreciate on a piece of equipment. A city boy from Hell's Gate stood out. His clothes were different, his shoes, even how he smelled, but he wasn't the only one. Aside from the Leper, with his drab trench coat, there were others here who didn't seem like they quite belonged. They wore suits and ties. Black on white on black and fitted perfectly to their lithe figures, looking like they belonged on some fashion runway ( not unlike Stello actually ). They sat in a private booth in a particularly charming smoking lounge, surrounded by bead curtains that allowed the eyes a good glimpse of what was beyond them. One of them stood just outside the entrance to their domain, hands clasped at his lap, dutifully waiting for something. Nobody, not even the shop servers, were allowed to step inside without first dealing with him. Crumpled somewhere on her person Ioreth likely still carried the business card. Chrome Outsourcing, the company was called. The agent who desired to meet with her was Sepitus Nox, and if memory served her right, she'd remember that he would be waiting for her at the Smoke Haus . . . because there were no better venues available for a business meeting in this wretched place. @B2BBear @Mittens ( My post isn't directly interacting with you two but I thought I'd bump ya to let you know we're still here! ) @KittyvonCupcake ( SURPRISE. Let me know if you've picked up too many other threads to keep this one going for much longer. I'd totally get it. )

When they start plotting world domination we’ll be perfect for this. ?

Stello's desperation had less to do with a baby leviathan loose in his home and more to do with the mess that came with her invasion. She lathered wetness across the floor as she inched along. The subtle slick he could hear with every motion forward confirmed and compounded the understanding that the cleaning he'd done earlier in the day had been ruined. The only thing that dissuaded the shock was a powerful shudder that rippled across his whole body when he felt the slimy yet rough texture of Stephen's tentacle wrapping around his ankle. Though uncomfortable, the feeling distracted him and afforded him a brief moment of clarity to spy Stephen's head, then her face, snout, and finally, her eyes. "Ohhh . . . ," he gave pause while maintaining eye contact momentarily, ". . . so that's watcha look like." After several seconds of peering at her, gaze focused and sharp, he caved and leaned in, "You handsome little beast you you're going to have all the lady krakens wanting a piece aren't ya?" His hand passed down along her snout and right back up to the side of her head. His thumb brushed across her lower eyelid and he watched in glee as she blinked in response to the gesture. The delighted purr that she released earlier changed. Although Stephen couldn't understand a single word that the human was saying, the eager and energetic touching paired with the elevated tone of voice conveyed pinpoint affection in all languages. Though tolerable at first, she didn't seem to like it for very long. Her body shook and he heard a sound similar to what he'd heard when he first met her and she was in want of grapes that were disappearing into someone else's mouth. When Stello's touching softened, so did she. After watching with a smirk as Ioreth's motherly instincts took over and ended with Stephen back in her little pot, he waved his hand dismissively at her apology before noting the wet floor again. He had already resigned himself to cleaning it after taking care of Ioreth's prowler. When he was given the keys, he turned towards the door and began to walk. The warning about Beans made his eyebrows tighten instantly, however. "More like I'll give him a shiner on his eye . . . with the torchlight." The door was then slammed shut behind him for emphasis. He arrived and at first appeared as an outline of a tall human being darkened by the light behind him as he stood in the alleyway leading to Ioreth's prowler. Beans himself scurried into hiding the moment he heard those unfamiliar footsteps coming closer, evading Stello's notice. There he lie in wait, on the other side of the vehicle and in perfect position for an ambush. His hands nursed the wrench maliciously. "I can smell your stink, imp. Come out. And lose the wrench." Aware now that his presence wasn't a secret, Beans emerged from the other side of the prowler, his eyes lidded and a mischievous smile showing. Though he continued to hold the wrench, he eventually dropped it when Stello took a decisive step forward and sat there smugly until suddenly the human's arm was raised high in swinging position and there was a flashlight in his hand. Beans flinched away and held his hands up in futile defense only to realize he'd not actually been attacked. Instead, Stello was raising his leg over onto the seat. Without warning, he turned it on and hit reverse hard enough that the engine's growl could be heard across the block. Beans jumped out of the way and then followed quickly behind him into the warehouse. Once inside, Stello followed the mess Ioreth had left behind and his heart dropped as he was going up the stairs. He spotted a pair of panties on the railing. He couldn't believe that idiot decided to leave them here in plain sight. Stello liked a naughty parting gift from the casual lady friend as much as the next guy but he never would have thought she would leave it here. How'd he miss that? He snatched it up immediately and squeezed it angrily before tossing it into one of his drawers in the lobby to deal with later, never realizing that it actually belonged to Ioreth and not the store clerk at the spell component shop further down the block. Never mind the thought that he might come out looking like a panty thief. When Ioreth was finished with her shower, she found him upstairs. The lobby, the smithy and the warehouse had all been closed down, lights off and Beans ordered to remain downstairs while Stello plotted out the mother of all showers. The kitchen was warm and the scent of Ioreth's hot toddy ranged wide. There was a lemon peel on the edge of the glass, whole cloves resting lazily at the bottom and a thick stick of cinnamon resting upright inside of it. If she picked it up to smell it, the bite of whiskey was noticeable in the steam emanating from it. He recognized the topaz as soon as she walked in. It came close to resembling the color of the drink he'd brewed for her. "For me? You shouldn't have." Upon receiving the stone, he glanced it over. "I kind of want to make a sculpture out of it . . . but it feels like it'd be a crying shame to cut it down from its current size." Then he looked at the book, recognizing immediately what its contents would be. He looked pleased. "This'll give me more to keep my mind busy. You know, if you ever need some making of something, let me know. I think you'd look like a badass swinging around a massive axe, or a hammer." The jovial energy pouring out of his voice seemed to fade as he digressed. "Maybe those . . . shitty catastrophes would think twice about happening in your area." @KittyvonCupcake + @Fennis Ursai ( Feel free to join in on this, Fen! )

I'll drop on in pretty soon as well! I have a few threads to catch up with though that started before this one and I feel it's only right I get to those first. I tend to post to the stuff that's been waiting on me the longest and go down the list. I should be caught up real soon!

Since Carlos and I completed a military assignment with our military characters recently and have them free again, we've decided to join up! Right @supernal ? I really like the set up by the way. Could make for some interesting moral questions. By the way, how will you be handling the opposition? I'm open to all sorts of options ( MOBS, for example ) as long as story line is the priority, which it certainly seems to be in this case. ? @Thotification Looks like we'll write directly at each other this time. ? My only regret is that my character in this one doesn't seem the type to highlight the Ravenbush surname in any comical manner.

Just like that, Stello was left alone in this strange place. With Momentum gone, he was given time to survey the pub in greater detail. He had been given the freedom to raid what was in stock and he didn't need to think twice to rise from his seat, walking in the direction of the counter that would have separated a bartender from a patron. Upon reaching it, he almost instinctively hopped over it in the very same way he often hopped over the counter at his own shop. He was light on his feet with long legs and he particularly enjoyed making sport of barriers like this. On the other side, he was greeted with an altar of bottles lined up along wooden shelves that glistened as he walked by them. Some of them were marked with unknown letters and words that he had seen in one of the books that he had spent time reading into recently about weapons from the lost lands of Elendaron. It was beginning to get to the point that he didn't even feel the need to ponder any further. By now, he felt safe in believing that Lexicus was a demon and that his body as it persisted in Terrenus might be a vessel. There was always room for error, of course, and so he placed very little weight on his theory so as to avoid disappointment. Eventually, he glimpsed a bottle with lettering upon it that he fully understood, Merlot. Stello generally shared a hate hate relationship with alcohol but during the extremely rare times he decided to indulge, wine was his choice. The atmosphere was just right for cultivating a drinking mood and he did just that, plucking the enticing bottle from its perch before pairing it with a resplendent wine glass with a spiraling stem separating the base from the bowl. He had to stop for a moment to appreciate the aesthetic of the glass. It felt just perfect to sit down in front of the bar, the only thing keeping him company a bottle of wine. Upon drinking from it, he allowed the drink to sit on his palate for quite some time. Not to discern the differing notes that lingered within it, because he wasn't that type of wine drinker, but simply to fully savor the taste and to satisfy the craving. And satisfy it did. He even paused a moment to fully peruse the label, wondering where it might have come from. @Fennis Ursai I'll be posting to you very soon as well @KittyvonCupcake! In different places actually! ??

The only thing that separated Mark's awareness from Stello's was simple context. From the very beginning, the term craftsman had been taken in its simplest form, meaning a person who builds. So when Mark mentioned that they didn't have crafstmen in this world, an expression of brief confusion crept across his face. Of course they had builders here, but before he could point that out, it dawned on him that there must have been another meaning behind it. Lawyers, it would appear. Valucre had those as well but by then, the matter had begun to feel muddled enough that he thought it best to leave it at that. Before moving along completely, however, he did ponder the pairing of two words like craftsman and lawyer. Should he believe that mark was a man who built law? When he allowed the thought to slip from his mind, not to be scrutinized further, he went on to consider what remained. That being himself, his reason for being here and the truth that he knew he should be facing. It was always easy to come up with excuses for the sentiments one resonates with most and he was blessed to know that the difficult choice was often the correct one. For quite some time, he was silent and unmoving. Though his body was as a stone carving it was clear that his mind was aflutter. "Good talk," he finally said, glancing sideways towards Mark. "Thanks. You wouldn't know where a guy would sign up in hopes of eventually becoming a knight, would ya?" @Fierach