Jump to content

Fallen Joy

  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won


Fallen Joy last won the day on May 20 2014

Fallen Joy had the most liked content!

About Fallen Joy

  • Rank
    Roleplay Wizard
  • Birthday 05/31/1990

Contact Methods

  • Yahoo
  • Skype

Profile Information

  • Occupation
    Aspiring Medical Student

Recent Profile Visitors

The recent visitors block is disabled and is not being shown to other users.

  1. The princess approached her husky blanket and eagerly encased her shivering body with it. Her breath rose like a white gardenia against the grey and lavender sky, and she watched it blossom then whisk away into the crisp sea breeze. Her body quivered once more. Never had she felt a chill so daunting; it rang in chatters through her teeth whilst bumps crept up her naked skin. She suddenly missed her long enveloping hair. Then a wave of heat rose up her spine, ascending slow and licentious like sinful fingers. She rolled her lips into her mouth and exhaled long from her nose. On the ground beneath her, she'd just watched Tyveres' shadow meld into hers through slits of her falling eyelashes. He had walked behind her. A look of flushed intoxication transpired upon her face. What is wrong with me... The storm of images and sensations that filled her virgin mind and body in unexpected moments of closeness with this man was tantalizing at best. Like a growing parasite, it was getting worse, purring in her chest at the mere sight of his shadow melting into hers. The beast clawed fleshy images of them being so close and compressed. Of him going into her. Stop. She clenched the blanket and her eyes shut to pry the coiling, coveting serpent from around her mind. When she opened her eyes again, she was ready to hear the voice that a moment sooner, could have set a flame she'd be unable to escape. "We're nearing the shores of the ice capital of Shawnee. Based on the mountain range, we should see signs of the ice fishing village of Ystupl soon. We can find lodging and gather more supplies from there to make it through the land of ice. It'll be cold so we'll want to find a safe and warm passage to your home." “Mmm,” she managed, taking another cloudy breath. “That would be great. I-I-I” She blushed, realizing her teeth were chattering. “..am not used t-to the cold.” His shadow split from hers, the man striding to the rail and leaning so casually. She gradually turned and briefly smiled at him before turning her head down again and brushing a strand of raven behind her ear. He was so cool and collected. Last night seemed almost unreal, and his moment of demure a distant thought already. The captain was crazy, there was no way he felt that way she did. Keeping her head down, she must have looked incredibly shy with her hunched shoulders and self embracing posture; though it was mostly due to the frigorific temperature. “Cecilia…” What a deep and drawling way to say her name. Her fingers touched the extra beat between her breasts. “Y-yes?” ”Your power…” She blinked twice and turned her eyes up at him in confusion. “How well can you control it?" “Oh…” She paused and considered for a moment. “Well, generating light and sound is inherited through royal blood. I’ve well adapted to light magic, but never took much to sound.” She chuckled to herself, remembering the struggle of her attempts growing up. “Sometimes I can emit pacifying waves through my fingers to lesser creatures, even generate calming illusions. I used it on the Surpous we captured." "You may not remember, but back at the port town in Genesaris, you used your light to bring us back to land after you fell overboard. I remember that there was a warmth within that glow. I've already trained you in the way of the sword, but it may prove useful to tap more into that hidden power." She nearly dropped the blanket at this remark, the bite of cold on her naked arms springing to her to reverse it. She released uncomfortable laughter and shook her head. “What? But didn’t you save...No, that’s impossible. I’ve never been able to generate such power with my magic. My light is visual only, it cannot generate force. I mean...the captain was a fluke. I was able to use sound to restart his heart." This was obviously not true. The captain's heart was badly damaged. She not only restarted his heart, she healed it. She did not realize this though. "I was desperate and still ended up fainting afterwards. To carry two men through a storm...No, I couldn't do it. It was my biggest downfall as a princess." Her smile faltered a bit as she continued. “You see, my kingdom’s magic is primarily the generation of sound and light. Within light, there are rare cases of being able use holy light. To heal and purify. A select few are capable of one, but only in the royal family have we been able to create a sort of hybrid between the three. Producing a light that is also capable of generating sound waves. The King, for example, married into the royal family and can only use sound. As someone with royal blood, I have the potential, but have always lacked the ability. I can sometimes generate sound waves to deliver messages like I did when you first saved me.” She slithered a hand from the comfort of her blanket and held a palm open to the assassin. A swirl a light manifested at the center of her hand, floating into the air like ribbons in dance until wings blossomed and a butterfly fluttered between them. As its wings fluttered, vibrations sang through the air like a soothing song. “I can also manifest illusions that coat the eye. In lesser creatures, it can pacify and allow communication. But…” She frowned and closed her hand, causing the butterfly to burst into a sparkling rainfall of gold. “I've never produced holy light. And my sound magic is very weak. There's usually an affinity to one. Mine was light. There has only been one person I knew capable of producing great waves of sound within displays of holy light.” A coat of sadness moistened her eyes but disappeared with her next blink. She turned away from him to focus on the drifting tide of the ocean. “My mother. And she only did it once. My mother had the purest light magic of the entire kingdom. She could produce great stars of light, powerful enough to illuminate the underground kingdom for months. Twenty years ago, a horrible sickness plagued my people. Men. Women. Children. They were dying within weeks of infection. In her grief from their suffering, my fath-....the King told me her magic became the most powerful he’d ever seen. Midst their cries for help, she rose to the skies like an angel.” The princess glanced up, as if to imagine it. “And sprouted great wings of gold. As if possessed by it, she began to sing. Her voice traveled through her wings and pulsated throughout the kingdom. All those that heard the sound were purified of the infection...Then from her rained down a shower of light that nourished the earth. From that earth came a field of violet blossoms, used for years after to heal the sick.” There was a great shine of admiration and sadness within her eyes. “The Golden Butterfly has been a divine symbol of saviors for hundreds of years. It appears in royal blood truly pure of heart and in times of great sorrow. But it came at a great cost to my mother. Her heart became progressively weaker, and she died five years later when I was three. She sacrificed everything for our people until the end. So you see, I can’t have done what you’ve said...” She look back at him, a great sadness in her countenance. “Because I am the daughter of a murderer and a rapist.” She walked from Tyveres and to the fish stew the captain had prepared for them. She sat on an old rickety chair with the steaming bowl in her lap. “I’m no savior, nor am I pure of heart. I can only repent the wrongdoings of the evil King. Ones I’ve chosen to be blinded to until now. I’m just trying to free my kingdom….by slaying him.” And that made her a murderer as well. Silently then dipped her spoon into the bowel and began to eat.
  2. A great beast descends from the skies in a fury of insanity. Crimson eyes glow with tears of black. Anger and murderous intent roar from tusked fangs. It barrels over them when with a battle ax the size of a small tree, muscles rippling with pulsating veins. Its entire body consumes them with the terrible smell of brimstone and coal...Her body lays broken, blood spilling from her skull, cast against the bowed torso of a broken tree... The Matriarch stared into the empty eyes of the insane Bodyguard. His crimson optics flared back with hell-borne cauldrons of possessed, mindless rage. The gravity of the foreseen future infected the witch's muscles and turned them to cemented pillars of fear. The once frigid nature of the ebony rain seemed to transform into embers; her blood and body on fire. She felt pinned against a stake amongst flames of panic, the burn crippling and the debilitation growing like the inevitable scorch of flesh. Then a sudden cerulean spin of water pushed through the inferno to douse her flames. A freeing sensation blossomed from the center of her core leaked to her trembling fingers and toes whilst washing away the burdening lead from her body. Life rekindled within her eyes as she realized it was from the Coven’s Soul. Namiko was pulling for their reunion. She had to go to her. No matter what. With that single responsibility and desire, fear vanished. Her legs moved practically on their own, the Matriarch running up the incline of the dark hill. Like a tormented bull in a rodeo, the Bodyguard charged in furry after her. His steps were so wide that it took seconds to close the distance. He rose his gargantuan battle ax with the intent to murder the woman he'd sooner sacrifice his life to protect. The Matriarch’s eyes ignited with knowledge, she did not turn to her attacker but kept running up the hill. Seconds before ax could meet its mark, a bone arrow struck the temple of the traitorous beast. The impact diverted the ax only slightly, but severing only five hairs from the Matriarch’s crown. The wind from the strike, furious and great, blew the woman forward. She was airborne for moments than landed on the black wet earth with a throbbing heart. It wasn’t time. She stood and kept running. The Bodyguard roared in agony, as if the very act had caused him severe suffering. His muscles contorted and his eyes bled furiously. It was Luna’s curse afflicting him--his soul miles away convulsing from the betrayal. Yet he still yanked the arrow from his temple, his flesh and bone too hardened to bleed from such an attack, and set his eyes on the witch. Before he could pursue, Kana abruptly appeared in the air, her war cry loud as she slammed down onto the Bodyguard's shoulders and buried her spear deep into the nape of his collar bone. The spear lodged then instantly broke. Though tendrils of black leaked, the Bodyguard wiped around unfazed and gripped Kana’s entire head within his fist. With an violent throw, Kana flew at least twenty feet before sliding in a mangled mess across the earth. Tana immediately took her place, releasing a barrage of bony arrows sporting green hued tips. It was poisonous, but the Bodygaurd batted the arrows away with is ax. The few that hit barely marked his muscles. He advanced on her fast, forcing Tana to leap back as his ax split the earth where she once stood. The Bodyguard immediately spun with a backhand, his reach catching her midair and sending her flying in a series of gruesome cracks. Kana stood and spit out blood, rubbing her crushed, broken nose. Driven by the obligation of her enslaved soul to protect the witches, she did not hesitate to charge back into the raging bull’s path. “ARRRGHH!!” Tana too, ignoring the pain of her several broken ribs and bruised lungs, stumbled to her feet and charged forward with an heaving breathes. Neither of them had no expectation to survive, but were determined to buy time. The Matriarch's hands found her blade, tightening her grip as she and her sister ran towards the summoning circle from opposite ends. Like blood spilling from the wound, the darkness leaking from the circle clotted and congealed into a tangible force that fought their advancement. The Matriarch's sight was loss to the darkness, but Namiko’s spiritual hand guided her through it. Namiko waved her blade, her purifying magic impregnating the winds around her. The thickening darkness was weaker to her stride, she advanced further and faster than the Matriarch could. Her wind dyed the venomous air into light sky blues zephyrs of purification. As she advanced dangerously close, the elves responded. Though they did not break their circle, their echoing chants grew thunderous and angry. “YOU WILL NOT INTERVENE!!” Their voices channeled into the skies and birthed a tremor that threatened to throw the witches off their feet. The rain became a horrid downpour, mating with the cackling sadistic skies and flashing with crimson lightning. A sensation overcame the Matriarch, familiar and terrible like in their battle across the bridge. The dread drew her eyes to the skies. The clouds swirled more closely, honing in to the floating amulet. The artifact began to pulse like a living heart, each beat invoking another quake into the earth. Then suddenly, as if the heavens were made of glass, the sky cracked. Fissures sprouted from the center of the swirl, revealing bleeding wounds of carmine light. The realm of the demonic entity was attempting to open, the fractured sky the first sign of the swinging gates. The Matriarch threw a hand to her face, closing her eyes against the pelting rain. Her vision useless, she searched through her sensitivity of magic itself. Something was conjugating above then, beyond the fissures, seven points of origin where iniquitous energy gathered to be released. An ominous sound hissed all around them like the sigh of Death. The imprisoned demon inhaled deep with lust, drawing power from behind the bars and ready to unleash it through the cracks. “Sister!”The Matriarch cried out through the screaming winds. “Beware the skies! It’s going to attack!” Even as she said it, there was little she could do to stop it. Her future sight could not grasp what was going to happen next, so she acted on instinct. Slamming her blade into the ground, she knelt with hands on the handle and summoned her strength. The blade began to crackling like the skies above them. White against red. She had to protect Namiko, no matter the cost. Namiko was the key to their victory. Soon after, the demon unleashed seven great bolts of crimson lightning towards the earth. Their potency promised to not only kill but destroy the land upon which its victim stood.
  3. Considering Cheerie is entering the office shortly after him, they’d probably cross paths. I’m fine with anything; however it flows from your fingers. I am pretty sure Cheerie won’t be the competitive type.
  4. “Ms. Blossom.” “Ms. Blossom?” “Ms. Blossom!” “MS. BLOSSOM!!!” A great clamor transpired as Cheerie Pidal Blossom toppled out of her desk chair. She tumbled messily onto the wooden floor with a distinctive ‘umph,’ her supervisor Franklin having pulled the headphone from her left temple and shouting quite offensively into her ear. Tympanum ringing horribly and hip throbbing against a digging gun, the woman sat up with a long groan. She then whipped a glare through a curtain of pink tresses like a murderous child from a well. “What the hell!” She hissed whilst rubbing the strands from her eyes. Frank was well flared and prepped for a fiery retort, but instantly deflated at the sight of her. He suddenly shifted his eyes away with small streaks of crimson forming on his grizzled hairy cheekbones. He scratched his scruff uncomfortably. “Erm. Ms. Blossom…” he said in a low voice. Cheerie glanced down and released a squeak of horror, her sprawled legs opening a window to her lacy undergarments. Embarrassed and outraged, she clamped her legs closed and swept them under the fabric of her skirt. After internally cursing her decision for thigh high stockings instead of leggings this morning, she spits her anger at him like a cobra. “Well, it’s your fault!” She hissed with scarlet tanning her face. “Ever heard of a tap on the shoulder?!” The man swelled up again, regaining his composure and wiping away any guilt he felt. “If you weren’t such a squeaky, slap-prone weasel, I would have done that. How many times have I told you not to listen to music while you’re working? And be more open to your surroundings? In this field, you must be diligent, vigilant--DON’T YOU SHUT ME OFF, MS. BLOSSOM!” Cheerie’s hand paused at her muff, defiant eyes revealing she was moments from muting what would have been an annoying and repetitive lecture. She clicked her tongue and stood from the ground, dusting off her skirt. “Fine.” She plopped on the desk chair and gave her throbbing ear one last rub. “What do you want, Frank?” Cherrie Blossom was an intern at the Eastern Andelusian Guard Post for nearly a year now. She worked on forensics and interrogation of cases complicated by little evidence. She had a growing reputation of both finding elusive clues and deciphering the threads of truth within lies spindled by criminals. Her methods were esoteric, but the office stopped questioning it five months ago when she closed the case of her first homicide. Investigator Frank was her supervisor and trainer, also charged with assigning her cases. However, he often acted between the lines of a drill sergeant and awkward father figure when dealing with this intern. She had an eerie tendency to twist the personalities of those around her. “We have a case!” He slammed a file on her desk with such unnecessary roughness that wind swept through her pink hair. The cubicle behind her enjoyed a sweet bouquet of perfume. “It’ll be your most exciting yet.” “Oh, yeah?” There was a bubbly perk in her voice, and her rosé eyes glimmered with interest. She opened the yellow folder and began to thumb through the pages. As she did so, the center of her carmine coated frames illuminated in cerulean streaks like fallen stars, absorbing the information as she simultaneously read it. “Amelia Silverheart. Fancy woman.” She flipped the page enthusiastically. “Found murdered in her bed…” She flipped the next page a little slower. “Crime scene thrashed without physical evidence….The victim appeared frightened to…” She slammed the folder shut. “No.” “Come on, Ms. Blossom! This case has you written all over it! The west side is stumped and frustrated because they’ve found nothing. This is your chance to prove you’re ready for the big cases.” She curled her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it with furrowed brows. Her pretty porcelain face shadowed and aged, light lashes lowering over her rosette hues. The living blossom seemed to wither at the mere thought. She shook her head, spun in her swiveling chair away from the desk, and crossed her arms. “Don’t care.” There was a moment of silence before Frank spoke again. “You’ve got to get over this." His gruff voice was suddenly solemn and dogmatic. “You need to put high profile cases under your belt, or you’re not going to secure a position. I’ve been easy on you because you were new. There’s no excuse now.” Cheerie frowned deeper. She knew this was coming. Despite her ability, she typically stuck to low-profile crimes because she was cursed with innate cowardice. She was about as spineless as a wiggly worm when it came to the seriously creepy stuff. She startled easily and leaned heavily on her flight response. Ergo, she refused to partake in particularly gruesome crimes or anything involving the unseemly supernatural. A woman being frightened to death in the safety of her bed, with the killer still on the loose, fell easily into that creep factor. As if the murderer was suddenly before her, she hunched her shoulders and crossed her thighs, closing off every vulnerable bit of her body as possible. “Look at this,” Frank said, rounding the chair placing a flyer on her lap. “They’ve resolved to consult the public for help. Do you know what kind of people that’ll bring in? That’s how serious this is. Do this, Ms. Blossom. Or this is it for you.” She flinched as if stabbed by the threat. Her eyes rolled over the details of the flyer. She contemplated it all. Though her body was still coiled like spring and every fiber of it protested action, an internal sense of justice and pride pried her lips apart. “Fine.” She muttered. “I’ll do it.” She reached up and rotated her left muff with three clicks. In the next few seconds, the tension seemed to melt off her body. ~~~~~ Shortly after the initial exchanges between Ameraphensbane and Maximillian Bridgeport occurred, there was a gentle knock on the door. After awaiting permission to enter, a brunette staff worker named Julie opened the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Investigator. The East Andelusian Guard Post has sent over one of their own to assist with the Silverheart case. She is an intern of Investigator Franklin Delavan and highly recommended for the case. May I show her in?” On the other side of the door, the young lady's curvaceous silhouette formed against the pane behind the blinds of his office window. Cheerie was leaning on it, nervously twirling her long locks through her pink French-tipped fingernails. Her thighs were clenched together over wobbly knees and anxiety shivered freely up her spine. Her left hand remained on her headphones, clicking the muff it forward and back a few times as if tuning a station. Though her heart hummed with songs of trepidation, there was a glint of determination within her eyes.
  5. Music On. World Off "Put headphones on your heart, and then turn the volume up. Let the rhythm throb in time with the pumping of your blood." ~Leeni -Headphones on Your Heart. Basics Name: Cheerie Pidal Blossom Age: 25-Years-Old Race: Human Class: Unknown Occupation: Andelusia Law Enforcement Trainee/Intern Specialty: Interrogation and Forensics Alignment: Neutral Good. Appearance Attire: Professional Wear: - Pink collared button shirts and ties. -Dark toned skirt with leggings or tights. -Large headphones with carmine rotating muffs -Carmine lens with technology infused glass lens Hair: Thigh length. Pale Pink. Straight. Adorned with barrettes and ribbons. Eyes: Rose Pink. Height: 5’6” Weight: 128lbs Body Type: Slender/Petite Personality To be determined through threads. Equipment Wireless Headphones: Cheerie’s headphones are always upon her ears. She rotates the muffs frequently when engaged in conversation, allowing her to interpret what she hears differently. The exact change of function is unknown. Tech Glasses: Primarily data storage, criminal profiles, and facial/material scanning technology. Law Enforcement Badge 8-inch dagger and sheath. Licensed Pink-coated pocket pistol with 6 bullets. Skills & Magic Unknown if Cheerie possesses true arcane ability. Her voice appears to have an influential effect. She seems capable of reading emotions almost empathically. It has been questioned whether she can read thoughts. Self Likes: Music, empty rooms, the color pink, and puzzles. Dislikes: Crowds and lengthy conversations. Mother: Deceased Father: Unknown. Siblings: None. Significant Other: None. Marital Status: Single. Sexuality: Unknown. History To be determined. Accreditations: Picture Credit Per Art Signature.
  6. Cool beans. None of my current PCs are suitable for this so I’ll make a new character. Someone simple that I’ll develop in the thread. I’ll give you an outline when I have one.
  7. I haven’t done a true mystery roleplay for long time. Why not? If you’re cool with it, I’ll join.
  8. Contraire to popular belief, Little Red had no intention of murdering the skabbit. Though her pinpoint fangs bore a ravenous glint and her tiny paws ominously kneaded against her prey’s heart, those dilated pupils held no mal-intent. Behind her, nothing fell to the earth and broke its hip—as the old man was instead running throughout the forest after other skabbits. Perhaps she never pounced an older gentleman at all; maybe it was a funny shaped tree with excessive gnarls and wrinkles. All’s well, what happened next, the purpose of her journey throughout this estranged land, was best done in without interruption. The feline’s furry face drew intimately close to the skabbit's, whiskers twitching sensitively as they kissed the thready ends of the squirming animal. She began to purr low and melodically, breath progressively synced with her victim. Just as her wide black optics wholly consumed the skabbit's aghast contortion, an amber light ignited and illuminated her gaze. The skabbit ceased its fight. As if hypnotized by the arcane beauty, the creature's laid there passively before its own eyes were possessed by golden light. A subtle zephyr churned gradually around the two, glissading through their fur with an aesthetic intensity of abated time. From the view of the encampment and beyond the dense shadows of the trees, there was a sudden and brief flash of golden light. Then there was not one, but two skabbits in the wood. The simulacrum flaunted a sleeker vestal coat of snow and two sapphire hues that shimmered like precious stones. Little Red released the skabbit, resting back on her furry hindquarters. The skabbit sat up with a newfound curiosity to its demeanor; the two stared at each other, twitched their pink noses, and canted their plush heads. After a moment, the skabbit hopped off into the distant bushes. Little Red took a moment to sniff at her paws, rub her ears, and even rolled a bit in the foliage. The smell of half nibbled carrots was suddenly tantalizingly sweet to her palate. Excitement filled her to the brim. This is…awesome! Still on her back, she digs three of her paws into the earth and like a dreaming canine runs against the air. Her body does donuts in the dust, tarnishing her white coat whilst she wails in ecstatic screeches. She scrambles to her feet and leaps up trees, barrels through bushes, and weaves through the root-made tunnels of the gargantuan trees. The extra pair of paws are unfamiliar; so like a puppy, she trips over own feet and tumbles clumsily through the wood. By the time she returns to camp, her fur is a pale tan and adorned with twigs, leaves, and other forest debris. Ah…what I miss? ------------ Little Red spent the rest of the evening as a skabbit, allowing the transformation to imprint and her body to bathe in the invigorating new sensations and instincts this spirit offered. The staff quickly learned she was not to be trifled with for meals or foolish antics; a few miniature bite marks and red paw prints to the face saw to that. Eventually, Little Red became dozing snowball in the trough of a tree gnarl. She was crimson-cloaked once more when they began their adventure the next morning. “The jungle is for me!” “For me!” “It’s for you, it’s for me! It’s for us living things.” “Living thiiiiiings!” Being in such a fantastic mood after last night’s success, Little Red was actually adding background choruses and echoes to Jikol's singing. Her high childlike voice was actually quite charmingly cadent, with a puppy howling tune that bounded between the boughs of greenery. She frolicked like her fairytale counterpart through the understory, pirouetting and gallivanting. Her flashy cloak quavered around her like flags of the color guard. Every so often she’d take a pause to sniff new flora, enamored by the array of aromas and bouquets. She’d also take moments to transform into her skabbit form and bark-strip a tree. It would prove useful in finding their way. Why a skabbit? Because she was a child playing with her new toy. “It’s for you, it's for me! It's for us living—OH MY GOSH I HIT A SNAIL” “A snaaaaaaaaail-Oh wait.” Little Red paused, stood there, and blinked several times as she observed the good doctor crumble over with a broken back to mourn the deceased little slimy bug. She canted her head awkwardly while scratching the back of her hood, seeming to ponder a moment before walking to him. It was the first time she'd interact with Jikol since their journey. Up to this point, she was hesitant to contribute to the crowd already occupying his mind. “Chin up, pip-pip,” she said with a tiny hand patting his shoulder. “You’re about to feed about a thousand other little critters! Well…minus the three ants, two spiders, and worm. They’re also food you've provided.” And with that child blunted remark, be it truth or play, she skipped passed him and continued the song in his stead. “The jungle is for me! The jungle is for me! It’s for you, it’s for me, it’s for all the smushed-erm living things!”
  9. The magic would be available to Namiko when she needed it; it would be up to her to determine how and when to utilize it. Upon Namiko's word, the four moved out. Tana grasped the Matriarch once more underneath the thighs, sweeping her off into a run after Namiko. Kana following beside her. Under the guidance of Namiko's purification, they rushed intrepidly throughout the town. The Matriarch resigned herself to her sister's magic, trusting it to wash its effects from the town and protect them like the wings of a guardian angel. If fate was on their side, the town would be cleansed with their thread. As expected though, the poisonous mist congealed as they grew closer to the cabin. The frigid rain was like tears of Death, staining black upon the Matriarch's cheeks and filling her body with dread. The ebony vortex within the skies churned with greater ferocity, generating an ominous zephyr that imprisoned the clouds into an obscuring smog. The buildings thinned and the paved road crumbled and faded away into ashen and bespattered dirt. Then the town just ended, leaving an open field of dead landscape cascaded by the infestation of miasma. The suffering skies bled crimson hues through wounds of capricious lightning. The twin orcs abruptly stopped at the sight, muscles tensing and hesitating. The silhouette of the cabin meekly formed against a slight carmine glow pouring down upon it. Surrounding it, the seven rouged figurines were even more elusive. Their uncomprehensive whispering amplified in the gusts and turned into screaming echoes across their ears. As the fountain water dared to cross the threshold between the town and this wasteland, it was met with an instant force. As if an invisible barrier lined the field, the liquid collided and ceased, instead spreading along the rim of the dead earth. It was like when her waters battled the dark force from the inn assailants. Her purity and their evil fought to penetrate the other with its influence. Then as if responding to the threat, the miasma in the sky elongated like a snake and rushed towards the fluorescent threat, attempting to mask them both in its darkness. Tana and Kana responded before the Matriarch could grasp the situation. The witch's vision was very much hazed by the darkness and she couldn't distinguish specifics of magic like usual. It made her very, very blind. Tana sprung away with the witch in her hands to the far left. The amount of force needed to evade the gigantic wave of smoke made her tumble the landing, her ankle collapsing to the side. She released the Matriarch as she rolled violent against the ground. The Matriarch grunted a stolen breath as she too crumbled away from Tana in a momentum driven trundle. Coughing dust form her face, she sat up to her thighs with a quick recovery. The miasma had successfully created a wall between herself and Namiko, snuffing out the light she used to locate her sister. The white witch did not know whether Namiko was consumed by it, or dodged in the opposite direction. "Sister?!" She rushed to her legs, Tana quickly beside her. "Kana is with her, she seems okay." The orc said. Once more the crimson eyes of the orcs seemed to prevail in the situation. Feeling a wave of relief, the Matriarch looked back towards the cabin. A speck of crimson light illuminated there even through her unique and hindered vision. "Tana what is going on over there?" Tana turned her eyes towards the cabin, focusing for a moment before answering. "The rouged elves we fought earlier are around the cabin. Their hands on raised towards the amulet. It's floating above the cabin." The Matriarch narrowed her eyes, stepping closer to the cabin. It was nearly futile, until she managed to make out slight shifts of magic. Ebony streams were leaking from the cabin and the surrounding earth, flowing into the amulet's jewel. It was absorbing power from the atmosphere itself. "This place..." she growled out. The physician said something dark had happened here in the past. In addition, the lackluster life in the dirt told her that whatever it was, it must have been so iniquitous that it imprinted a venomous aura into the land. A place where plants refused to grow and humans refused to tread. The summoners must have been harnessing this energy as a way to further empower the amulet. The way that vortex strengthened over cabin, it must have been channeling the gathered energy as well. The beast scraping its claws hungrily against the lock of its cage. They had to stop the summoning from completing. "The mist is surrounding us," Tana suddenly said. The Matriarch looked around them. It was true. Like how the waters were surrounding the dead earth in attempt to reach it, the miasma was reflecting its route. They needed Namiko's magic to reach the ground. Its horrid and esoteric past was helping to fuel the summoning. Perhaps if they killed the summoners, they could break the barrier. "Namiko!" she yelled. With the miasma was traveling around the rim of the land, the mist between them was thinning. She thought she saw a speck of her sister's light. "Sister, we must reach the summoning circle before it is too late!" Suddenly a great roar pierced the air. The Matriarch startled, her most recent premonition flashing across her eyes. Dropping from the skies was a huge creature. It landed with great force, crumbling the brittle surface into a small crater and scattering the rest of the miasma from between the sisters. The creature brought itself up from the crouched landing, flaunting its 8-foot height and brandishing a small tree sized battle-ax and cleaver blade within its hands. Yellow tusks as great as a prehistoric talons opened and roared out vibrations adorned with spit. His crimson eyes pulsated with black veins, and his tear ducts leaked with ink. It was the Matriarch's Bodyguard. He stood between the witches, an insane animosity cascaded over his demeanor and hefty breaths tightening his nude pectorals. The Bodyguard turned his head left at the Matriarch and Tana, and then at the Kana and Namiko. There was no recognition within his eyes. Tana immediately placed herself in front of the Matriarch, drawing her spear. Where ever Namiko was, Kana did the same with an arrow loaded against her bow. The orcs knew they were in trouble, for the Bodyguard was the most powerful orc of their clan and now he was an enemy.
  10. The Matriarch silently listened to Namiko’s plan, imbibing the information and allowing it to churn with her existing thoughts. When her sister finished, the Matriarch only closed her eyes. Like in the hotel room, she focused her senses through the darkness to locate the source. It seemed an impossible task a moment ago. Like finding a shadow in an aphotic room, the haze of iniquity was clouding its source. However, the provided guidance from the old man and clarity from the fountain gave her a path of focus. She extended her feelers through to the north, allowing her Third Eye to peak a glint at the threads of possibility. A great beast descends from the skies in a fury of insanity. Crimson eyes glow with tears of back. Anger and murderous intent roar from tusked fangs. It barrels over them when with a battle ax the size of a small tree, muscles rippling with pulsating veins. Its entire body consumes them with the terrible smell of brimstone and coal...Her body lays broken, blood spilling from her skull, cast against the bowed torso of a broken tree... The Matriarch slowly opened her eyes, deciphering the premonition with a heavy heart, and accepting the very real possibility of what awaited them in the North. She said nothing to Namiko. She only exhaled and nodded with resolved agreement. This was the way it had to be. "I'm with you, Sister." The increasing danger rose her adrenaline like a dagger pressing into her throat, but she visually remained calm and immune to apprehension. She had to stay strong, despite the battle she foresaw. “We will travel to this cabin, purifying as much as we can on the way. It is likely the closer we get to the source, the greater the resistance to the purification there will be. We will have to defeat these rouged elves to completely cleanse it.” The Matriarch knelt down, brushing her hand against the herbal leaves; her fingers were so pearl and pale that they practically reflected the shifting colors of the magic. She plucked several of the herbs and stood. “But we must protect ourselves from being possessed. This may combat any corruption while it is in our systems.” She offered Namiko a herb and then turned to the orcs. “Tana. Kana. Eat one of these.” They immediately grunted in protest. “We don’t eat plants, only meat.” “Looks disgusting.” The Matriarch merely narrowed her eyes. Obliged by their enslaved souls, the orcs could only sneer at the witch as they both took a herb and chewed disgruntled like a child with a bowl of vegetables. They gagged and shook their heads in disapproval but swallowed obediently. Though the orcs were particularly resilient and somewhat protected from betrayal by their arcane chains of servitude, the witches couldn’t afford them becoming enemies. Tana and Kana were too formidable to risk possession. Satisfied, the white witch held out herbs to the children and old man. “Take these. The fountain may no longer be able to protect you.” They took them gratefully with voices of thanks. The Matriarch slipped the last herb into her carmine lips, chewing it gradually. It was bitter like a raw plant but held a certain sweetness that washed through her body. She suddenly felt invigorated and fresh, like mediating under the brisk virgin waterfalls of the spring. The sensation melted down her body, cleansing whatever toxins she absorbed from their journey and rooted into the earth at her feet. “Okay…We travel north to make our stand against this terror.” They took some precious moments to prepare. Kana fashioned new bone arrowheads from forgotten corpses and Tana sharpened her spear. The physician gathered leftover supplies from the clinic and with a few droplets of spring water, the Matriarch fashioned a total of three healing tonics. The tonics couldn’t do much against instantly fatal wounds but could slow lethal bleeding or make a broken ankle less painful. She provided one for Namiko, herself, and between the twin orcs. As time passed, perhaps only half of an hour, the dark clouds to the north began to swirl in a torrid vortex. The clouds began to collapse upon themselves as if slowly conjuring something into reality. The wind picked up, deathly cold and filled with howling sounds. A flash a cerulean lightning manifested in the distance, followed by booming thunder. Slowly droplets started to fall from the skies, ice upon the skin. It appeared whatever was happening in the north began precipitating a storm. They could wait no longer. The Matriarch turned to Namiko. “Sister, reach into yourself and feel the Coven’s Soul. Draw upon the energy that binds your magic into mine. Though I am wary, I will offer all that I can.” She closed her eyes and focused. From her body came lightning that churned and crackled around her. Her raven hair grasped the energy and flailed in unison. Namiko would feel the potential building deep within her own body as if she were the very one conjuring it. She had accessed the power as if it were her own. She needed not permission to harness it, but only the desire to use it. Through the roadways of the sisterhood, The Matriarch offered her energy. “Do with it as you desire, Namiko and lead us. We shall follow you.” Tana and Kana stood nearby, awaiting for Namiko to lead them into battle.
  11. "It is a mystery to me too, Sister," the Matriarch said as she allowed herself to be guided to the window's edge. "It appears the enemy has found a way to become more formidable. I worry for the status of the clinic and the amulet. We must find a way to get there as soon as possible. Without delay." The Matriarch paused, turning her gaze at her Sister. Her porcelain face contorted slightly; as if through the complex spindles of her vision, she read Naimko's internal tribulations. She glanced back into the room, at the magnitude of dead bodies, and then placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. When she spoke, her voice was soft and full of understanding. "We will save this town, Sister. This poison has run deep, it is a travesty. Not all will be saved. Do not let its despair your resolve though. The seed you planted within the fountain may have the ability to reverse the effects in those not so taken as these victims, as your magic has done in the past. We must have faith in the Great Spirits, and in yourself." Still, even as she spoke it, her mind contemplated how to accomplish such a task. During the ritual, much calamity had transpired in the town; as rapid and deadly as plague. She brandished hope at the thought that if they purified the source of the depravity, they still may reverse the curse. A small and ashamed part of her feared she placed too much weight on Namiko's magic. But I saw it...She thought to herself. My visions do not lie. She reminisced when they rested on the edge of Coconino Creek, where the Third Eye opened and showed her an amazing display of light and purity conquering the darkness. All from the witch before her. She too had to have faith in the Great Spirits, and stand by her beloved devotion to her sister. The increasing sounds of trampling steps in the outside hallway drew her attention from her thoughts. She'd have to think more at the fountain; something inside her told her the answer would be there. "You first, I will cushion your drop." Her trust unshakable, the Matriarch nodded. She palpated the window seal and then climbed cautiously on the edge. Feeling the advent of Namiko's magic, she awaited the right moment and then rode the waves in a graceful glide to the ground below. It was a good decision, for the blessed waters cleared the veiny earth of its ebony afflictions before they landed. The witch landed with bent knees, metallic armor and raven hair dripping as she stood. She immediately placed a hand to her lips with a stifled breath. There wasn't a smell within the air, but the saturation of dark magic resembled a toxic haze in the streets, It that made her reluctant to breathe. Tana leaped after them and landed with ease onto the ground. The orc surveyed the area with a disgruntled expression. The advent did not seem to attract the attention of the few wandering patrons lurking the streets. They instead walked with inebriated steps lost to whatever was depraving their bodies. It was possible many were still early in the stages of their infection. The orc turned her crimson gaze to the ground, flaring her nostrils in disgust as the ink gradually tried to crawl its way back in her path. "What do you want to do?" The orc asked her native tongue. "Get to the clinic, quietly," the Matriarch responded. Tana nodded and approached the Matriarch. She gripped the woman under the thighs and cradled the witch in her arms. The Matriarch was blind and her magical vision was hazed by unnatural atmosphere. She wouldn't be able to sneak through the town without slowing them down. Tana looked to Namiko. "Follow me," she grunted and sprinted into the one of the alleyways snaking between the buildings. The town was eerily quiet for dusk. Though crimson light was expected to shine from the horizon, it managed little success. The sky looked suffocated like smoke snuffing the glare of a fire. They took to the more aphotic pathways of the streets, clear of lanterns or window light. They were guided by the crimson eyes of the orc, accustomed to the drab tunnels of Mount Ariadne. Several persons were seen even in these dismal roads; leaning against the walls with enameled eyes or hunched to the earth as if invisible hooks speared their spines. A few times they were already violent, hissing like ravenous animals and lurking with broken and contorted bodies through the darkness. They managed to avoid conflict with them. The ink covered pavement made it particularly difficult to maneuver; strides often becoming skips and leaps over the tainted earth. With their deliberate and persistent detours, the sun was long gone from the skies by the time they reached the hedges and fences of the clinic. The sky was now an onyx hue, moonless and churning with swirls of smoky clouds. The clear patches were wiped of stars. All specks of nature's light had been murdered from the night. Tana approached the clinic slowly. The fences of the property were collapsed into splintered lumber. Smoke seeped from newfound gaps in the rooftop and the tense silence of death cascaded the area. "It's clearer here," The Matriarch stated as she removed herself from Tana's arms. It was true; despite the destructive appearance, the black slithering earth came to a halt near the boundaries of the edifice. A cerulean orb of light extended from a hidden source beyond the rubble, bringing color to the desolate air. "You're back," came a rock-grinding voice from the shadows. Kana made her way into view. Her body was covered in bruises and gashes. Blood crusted her arms and thighs and soaked through her fur clothing. "You look like Hell," Tana said to her twin sister. "Been through it. Was fantastic." The orcs shared a chuckle. The Matriarch was not entertained by their quip. She approached Kana, gazing her face left and right for someone that was obviously missing. "Kana, where is the the Bodyguard and the amulet?" She spoke their tongue because she couldn't afford to miss a detail. "Taken by them cloaked ones. Swarmed this place like bats with your kind of voodoo. Did what we could, but they surrounded him in these weird chains and carried him the skies. Bastards probably dead." The Matriarch narrowed her eyes. "And the people of the clinic?" "Got in the way with their squealing and pan-" "Are they alive, Kana?" Kana grunted at the concern and crossed her arms. "The old man and the young ones. Others were taken by madness. We killed them. The fountain seemed to shield those three from it though. It seemed more alive than usual. The hooded ones came only after we slaughtered the bunch, didn't seem too keen on staying with the fountain shining so bloody brightly. Were quick to use that voodoo and flee." The Matriarch frowned heavily. It was possible the rouged assailants were initially expecting the orcs to hold back in face of possessed enemies but were sorely mistaken. She wouldn't have expected the orcs to hold back nor show mercy to anyone that attacked them. It still made her remembered how much she hated their brutal and unforgiving nature. So many wasted lives. "Take us to the fountain." "As you wish." They climbed over the rubble and into the herbal garden of the clinic. Many of the plants had faded into dusty ashes and rot upon smoldered dirt, but as they approached the cerulean glow, there was a change. The garden started to revitalize; herbal flora not only growing but flourishing. The plants brandished an ultraviolet glow within their veins, creating a circle of luminescence. At the center was the fountain; its spewing waters possessed a ghostly lightness to it, seeming to float within the air before descending into the pools at its feet. A mist rose from the basin, producing the celestial glow that daunted the night. The water itself had an azure fluorescent glow--as if galaxies were captured within the stream. "Oh...." She never expected the fountain to be so breathtakingly extravagant. The Matriarch's faith in her visions cried in praise and rejuvenation. Namiko's magic seemed to have sentience; awakening and bearing arms in response to the desperate wails of suffering in the world around it. As Namiko approached, it quivered with an enchanted dance like ocean waves against the boundaries of its chamber. The herb glimmered with a grateful glow as the wielder of their diamond covered leaves stepped upon their earth. If she approached closer, the fountain extended with tendrils into the air with a yearn for her touch. "Oh, Sister." The Matriarch whispered, placing her hands to her lips in a stunned silence. She fought back emotions from her eyes and instead exhaled through smiling lips. "This is what we needed. This will save the town." Only Namiko could wield this weapon though. "You've returned," came an old and withered voice. From behind the fountain, the old physician of the clinic limped into view. At his feet came his two grandchildren, trembling and frightened from the past events. "They came in your absence," he explained. "There were so many...My staff..They..." His voice broke. He said couldn't bring himself to say it. "The orcs protected us, but then these hooded guys appeared. Seven of them. They came with horrible magic that overcame the largest one. They took him away. " The Matriarch couldn't see them, but she recognized his voice. "Do you know where they went?" "I do not." He said regretfully. "Though they went to the skies in the north. There is a desolate sanction there with a lone cabin. No one travels there. It has a horrible past." The Matriarch suddenly remembered her premonition, the one she shared with Namiko at the campsite. It had to be the same place. Where they would have their final battle. "Sister," she looked to Namiko. "I feel we are losing great time by the second. They may have everything they need to complete the summoning. If we don't stop it, this darkness may not only overcome Doughton, but the entire continent. " She approached Namiko, grasping her hands tightly. "I need your guidance, as this is your magic. You're the one that will stop this monster from being summoned. What do you think we should do?"
  12. Little Red, the presumptive wolf girl, had indeed abruptly disappeared from the doctor’s side. The smell of something new and exciting approaching the camp enraptured her attention. Multiple things actually; white, fluffy, and vivacious. The crimson-cloaked girl was on a low borough of a tree, crouched on all fours and awaiting the advent. Thanks to her convenient night vision, she saw their oryctolagus shape in the shadows and merely assumed them innocuous. She was proven…well somewhat erroneous when the following events transpired. Chaotic and comedic mayhem ensued. Like a housewife leaping onto a chair with clicking heels or an elephant rampaging at the sight of a mouse, the adventurers went into an uncontrolled panic that yielded little result outside a good sized knot on the back of Dr. Concordia’s head. “Ouch…” she muttered, sheepishly scratching the back of her hood with her glove. “Maybe I shoulda spoke up.” Well no use fretting over spilled milk, she concluded, then focused ravenous attention to the skabbits. White flashes darting here and there, eating with gluttonous speed and borrowing with even more impressive vigor. Though hidden in the darkness of her hood, Little Red's eyes darted with dilated pupils like a hypnotized cat to a feathered toy. Gradually her hand lowered to the branch, fingers drumming anxiously on the gnarled surface. She remained still for a long tense second before she suddenly leaped and disappeared behind the thick trunk of the tree. A lynx manifested on the other side, its tail barely congealing from crimson to fluff as she clawed tree column and churned around the wooden torso like a neurotic squirrel. Reaching the base, she sprang with unfathomable soundless grace into the mass of skittering snow. Like cockroaches to light, the skabbits scattered. Foreign or not, predators spoke a universally frightening language to prey. Several skabbits covered a safe distance from the newfound predator and buried post-haste, but she hyper-focused on one forsaken bunny. The duo danced throughout the camp, the skabbit having no leisure to burry and only wailing in distress with dusty winds on its paws. Little Red was fast though. The two scurried throughout the many obstacles of the encampment in a freestyle run—tangoing over tables, weaving between legs, and performing death-defying leaps over the blazing campfire. Several unfortunate souls became pins to the barreling force. The skabbit leaped away from the campfire with the lynx in toll, and through some thick understory in desperate seek of a sanctuary. Oh that poor old man. “I see you now. You won’t escape me this time you—” He wouldn’t be able to finish the sentence, for the skabbit rushed from the understory and through his legs, and moments later the lynx leaped over the understory to land directly on the old man’s chest. A front paw planted on his left shoulder and two more square on his chest, the force would likely send his momentum tilting back, giving the feline just the leverage needed to leap off and into the air behind him. Too instinctively attune to the hunt to even realize she jumped on an older, possibly frail, human being with the risk of sending him on a one-way ticket to a broken hip, Little Red used the airborne adventure to pounce the skabbit, pinning its squirming body under her paws. Hah! Got you! Little Red was a juvenile lynx with less weight than her adult counterpart, perhaps he wouldn't fall at all. Either way, she was currently too consumed in her success to notice.
  13. Across the navy backdrop of night, Cecilia was lost in the performance. Whereas the chilled air seemed so cold, it could crack like ice, the feverish temperatures from their rhythmic dynamic melted the wind into wisps of white. It leaked from their bodies and panting lips, draped them like ghostly capes vanishing in and out of sight. Their music was the clash of their swords; a clamor both frequent and fierce. Under the lunar limelight, blades glinted brightly in silvery streaks and diamonds sparkled on their sweat ridden skin. I feel so free…. The princess felt the embrace of passion encase and swell within her. Stressful tension broke and shattered, replaced by sheer euphoria that ignited flames within her chest. It was the pleasure of dance. She suddenly remembered it so well. She couldn’t stop; even as fatigue threatened to burden her muscles and purloin her breath. Her muscles moved with an addiction to the choreography, powered by forces beyond the limitation of the body. Everything soon dissipated from her consciousness, reality fading until only she and the assassin remained. Soon her emotions spread encompassed them both; her heart humming at the sight of his gaze peering through the opportune windows of movement. He always found her face through the cadent storm and fueled her intoxication. Inhibitions scattered; her mind drunk from the moment. She wanted to give everything away to him, yet stood impeccably vigorous and steadfast amongst the clash of blades. This was something more than the love of dance. What was this feeling? What had consumed her so? I am...Do I…? Their personal mise en scène abruptly ended with a collision that sent the Princess' blade adorned hand up in the air, exposing her side and allowing Tyveres and pull her so impulsively close. Perhaps it was years of dance ingrained into her muscles, or perhaps something more, but her left leg rose up synchronously with the embrace, hugging his waist at a perfect right angle whilst her right hand pressed flat against his left cheek. It was like the end of a vivacious Tango. Faces so dangerously close, she breathed his air and shared his sweat. For the first time, Tyveres would notice a carnal flare within her sapphire hues, ignited by a ravenous and licentious catalyst. The singleton applause broke the spell and the princess literally startled. She dropped her leg and retracted a few steps, placing a hand to her heaving chest. A blush transpired, but the crimson coat was insignificant under the heat already flushing her face. She lowered her blade and wordlessly sheathed it. “You did very well.” “Thank you…” she breathed, composing herself and adorning with a great smile. “That was wonderful! I felt...I felt free.” “We should turn in. It won’t be long before we see land, and your sea beast may need a break as well.” “Oh. Right, of course.” she swept a moist raven strand behind her ear and glanced up at him. Tyveres always stared unabashedly and confidently into another's face; thus the princess was astonished to find his face averted. She blinked several times, instantly confounded at this behavior. In fact, his whole body seemed guarded; not in his usual iced demeanor way, but almost...demure? She took a few slow steps towards him. “Tyve-” she stopped as he suddenly ascended the rope without another word and disappeared over the railing. Had she imagined it? Was it possible he shared her feelings? I mean...he did try to kiss me, right? Suddenly lightheaded, she leaned against one of shelly palisades and exhaled a long breath of white. She contemplated her thoughts for a moment before the captain called out to her. “Oy! Lass, you better get up here and dry off. Gon’ catch a cold if you stay there.” The princess glanced up and smiled. “Coming!” She gave the surpous a grateful good night stroke above the eye, allowing it to click affectionately in response before she ascended the rope as well. As she landed on the deck, she noted Tyveres was already below. The captain tossed a towel at her. It smelled lightly of fish, but at least it looked clean. She dabbed herself dry in the face and arms. "Thank you.” “Did a number on him, you did.” “Oh, I still have a lot to learn.” “Aye, but I wa’nit talking ‘bout the swordplay.” The princess rose her brows and cast him a bewildered look that he chuckled hardily to. He reached out and patted her firmly on the back before leaning over the rail and looking at the moon. The princess copied him with a continued curious expression. The captain pulled a pipe from his coat, lit it and puckered his lips against the bit as the pot glowed amber. He enjoyed the smoke for a moment before speaking again. “Afore you healed me back in the Inn, I had all but given up on living. Lost my daughter a few years back.” He paused, puffing the pipe a few more times. “A storm fell upon the boat, came out of nowhere. 'Haps if I had been a be'ter captain n' less of a seadog sot, she wouldn’t of fell over.” Cecilia frowned but said nothing. “Didn’t stop me from hitting the booze thrice as much after a spending three days on sea and six months on land searching for some sign of her. Stopped sailing. Stopped caring. Just a shell of whiskey on a broken ship. That storm took my strife for life ‘long with me daughter." “I’m sorry.” “Dun be,” he said with a low chuckle. “When ye risked yer life to save my crummy behind, surrounded in that golden warm light, yer not only stopped my body from turning cold but melted years of cold already icing me heart. Gave me a reason to live again. " He turned his head up high to the moon. "Was like finally seeing the Sun after a dawnless winter.” The princess turned slightly pink, unable to say anything to such words. She touched his large grizzled hand softly. He turned to her and gave a half smile. “What I’m saying here, lass, is that even the hardest man will melt before the Sun. And he ain’t no different.” The princess stared at Captain Frank, breathless and speechless as she imbibed in his words both confused and flattered. The Captain released a second chuckle. “Soon we’ll be parting ways, and I want you ter remember this. You have the ability to melt pride into humility, anger into peace, and indifference into passion. Now get some sleep, we’re only a day or two out from Terrenus.” The princess offered him a soft and teary smile but vigorously nodded. She turned and headed below the deck. After scurrying down the steps, she slowed into the cabin. Instantly she heard the purrs of the fox kit and smiled at the adorable curl of fluff under the hammock. She turned her eyes gradually to Tyveres. If he was sleeping, she watched him for a few moments, allowing the captain’s words to echo in her head. It made her blush again. If he was awake, she acknowledged him with a smile and retreated quickly to the shower room. Still accustomed to sleeping in something more comfortable, the princess settled on the bed and slowly removed her upper leather garments (she did this in the bathroom if he was awake). The moonlight shone through the oval ship window and illumined her nude wet back with a white sheen of light. She pulled the band from her wet hair and let it drape. With a stifled yawn, she was suddenly incredibly exhausted. It was only a few hours before daybreak. She pulled on the thin clothed top previously adorned and left the leather pants on. Settling under the thick blankets, she rested her head on the pillow and allowed any remnant thoughts to slowly sift away as she fell into a deep sleep. ….. The princess woke almost into the afternoon of the following day. Through the minuscule cracks of the blanket, she felt a wintery air brushing against her exposed belly. Very reluctant to leave the blankets, it took the chastising light of the golden afternoon to draw her from the bed. When she removed the blanket, an instant chill flew up against her arms and hardened at the tips of her breasts. She embraced herself with a small shiver. Had it really gotten so cold so quickly? She dressed in a hurry, but the leather did little to spare her the cold. She wrapped her body in the thick blanket and traveled topside with it. The sky was grey, her breath hard in the air despite the gold light struggling through the haze. There was a hot pot of fish stew brewing on the deck. Mostly meat, potatoes, and carrots. What drew her attention was the mountains on the horizon. Her eyes widened and she hurried to the ship edge. The peaks appeared white, though it was hard to tell at their distance. It was the beginnings of Terrenus. “Ah, mornin’ yer highness.” “Oh, good morning,” she said, turning to see the Captain approaching her with a pot of stew. “Uhm. Cecilia, please.” “Aye, Cecilia. Looks like we’re close. But your serpous dun seem too happy with our new weather conditions. Used to warmer waters, they are. Might be time ter let her go.” The princess glanced down. The serpous did seem very sluggish. The rope held little tension; it was unlikely the creature wasn't pulling as opposed to keeping pace. With a heavy heart, the princess nodded, abandoned the blanket, and made her way down to the shell of the beast. It was even colder there. It cooed longingly at her and she nodded with understanding. Approaching the beast's face, she placed her hand on the skin above its eyes; it practically stole her heat. “I thank you for all you’ve done. It’s time you return to warmer waters.” The serpous released a clicking sound and the Princess patted it gratefully. She untethered the knot and the turtle immediately diverted its course. The Princess aimeed a timed leap to catch the dangling rope as the creature passed the ship. “Goodbye!” she yelled, waving her free hand. The serpous sang a final pulsed call, uplifting from the sea like a whale and disappearing under the surface. The princess turned back towards the mountains. “So we’re almost there….” She closed her eyes for a long second and then opened them with determination. “I can do this.” With that, she climbed up the rope to return to the deck and her blanket.
  14. Thread/Title: Smoldering Aftermath Characters: King, Koru, Rory Quartermain, Madeline, D'eon, Jhulae, Khezu. Summary/Highlights: After the travesty that took place in her departure, a lone teenager named King is seen working on the devastated ruins of the old Gaia Academy. At first he works several days alone but is soon joined by an anthropic feline hybrid [Koru] and a maniacal looking man with a serpentine staff [Rory Quartermain]. Liyah joins around the same time. Arriving on the scene she is instantly astounded, disturbed, and infuriated by the smoldering runes of the academy. Khezu is some distance behind her, for the smell had caused Liyah to rush ahead to the runes. It takes her a long moment to make her next move. King seems to mostly ignore the persistent attempts for Koru and Rory to gather his attention and ask questions. He only takes the time to tell him he had no time to talk, only work. Smelling the sweat and work on King, Liyah is softened by King's efforts and vexed by the others attempts. She is also disturbed by the fact that King is alone, lost to the contemplation of whether he is the only survivor or the only one that cared. Heart bleeding for King's devotion and purloined of her usual mirth, Liyah bluntly chastises the visitors tactless and pointless curiosity. Afterwards, she begins to help King clean. Rory is annoyed and hateful towards Liyah's boldness and Kory is discouraged. Though Liyah senses the ill-intent from Rory, she ignores it. As Liyah lessens King's burden, the man pauses at her actions and takes the time to answer Rory and Koru's questions before returning to work. Liyah and King work together in silence for a time before King places a hand on Liyah's shoulder and offers his thanks. Liyah is drawn to take a moment to watch King work, seeing the sweat and vigor on his body stirred her easily enticed carnal nature, but she swallows it. She soon takes to an elephant form to further help with the wreckage. A fourth person arrives [D'eon, or a puppet of his], the most esoteric thus far. He does not engage the group. By sundown the courtyard is clear. King settles to sleep in the cold night. True to her bold nature, Liyah approaches, tosses her cloak over the sleeping King and lays naked within his arms. She stays there for a moment before transforming into a wolf to offer him warmth. When morning comes, King holds her close and nuzzles his thanks. Liyah wakens and feels a sense of void when he leaves her side. They resume work. Rory was still present and asking questions to King. The other mysterious man is replaced by another puppet of the same nature. A new addition [Madeline] also joins that morning. She approaches Liyah and asks to help. Liyah is warmed by the offer and plays casual with Madeline's face in gratitude. King leaves Rory's questions to join them. So two workers become three. They work on mostly crumbled dormitories. Unable to see the interior one of the building, Liyah transforms into a gorilla and ascends the wall to reach the inside. What greeted her was a terrifying display of bones in horrifying positions that overwhelm her. The others hear her cry of terror, King rushing first up the wall with impressive strength and speed to join her in the newfound crypt. He comforts her, informed her he has had to bury many and they would do the same now. Liyah at first doesn't comprehend him as she is lost in the memories of her friends and their possible death. It isn't until the smell of blood reaches her that she snaps out of her trance, realizing King hurt himself to come to her. Meanwhile, Rory summons an undead demonic golemn to help with the wreckage. The smell of it reaches Liyah and displeases her greatly. She rushes back in her gorilla form, temper loss, and fully intent on mauling them both. Madeline innocently attempts to engage the creature. King lingers back and prays. Liyah stops Madeline and is then further infuriated by Rory's snide remarks. Before any further action could be taken, through an act of Gaia, the golemn is destroyed. King appears by Liyah with a holy sword in his hand and different tone to his voice. He appears to be possessed by the deity and threatens to slay Rory. Rory flees and peace is returned. Madeline, King and Liyah continue to work to bury the newfound bodies. Another placement to D'eon puppet arrives (D'eon himself) and he speaks, saying very unnerving things to Liyah about the bones. It fills hers with mental distress and makes her strong suspect D'eon is responsible for the devastation. Before she can respond, he too leaves. Liyah finds herself utterly exhausted before Khezu finally arrives onto the broken campus. He presence relieves her and fills her with a moment of joy. He helps with their task. They bury and say their prayers to the dead. Another presence appears, but Liyah is too tired to deal with more iniquities after such a day. She settles on the now empty dormitory with her thoughts. Khezu joins to comfort her. Not much interaction is offered after this point. The four continue to work throughout the Gaia Academy remains until presumptively they are finished or time gets the better of them. However in the next scene of this academy, it is discovered that Liyah is the only one left. Not even Khezu is with her. She discovers an injured Drowess named Jhulae, who was plundering the grounds for treasure. Jhulae’s efforts brought her to a lake and she was attacked by a venomous creature. She escapes injuried and Liyah approaches to offer assistance. Due to the premature end of this interaction, it is unknown how far Liyah goes with this Drowess before she leaves herself.
  • Create New...