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Jotnotes last won the day on February 3

Jotnotes had the most liked content!

About Jotnotes

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    Alberta, Canada
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    Gaming, Writing, Occasionally I Draw Poorly.
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    Jot Notes #6666

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  1. Kian was still glancing towards the church, and the graveyard beyond. A place like this was probably pretty active all night, so it'd be a harder gig to do a little exhuming, but it promised to be profitable. He glanced back in time to catch the Tigress' pointed stares, and rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced away again, ears prickling. He didn't really think he could juggle multiple night time activities at the same time. "Uh, yeah, where're we going, anyway?" He turned to their charge. Priscilla glanced ahead, and spied their location already, and pointed towards it. "There we are," She said. The hotel ahead of them was tall, and rather attractively built, as far as the other buildings were. It was made of sound, uniform logs, all of some dark, rich-looking wood, hewn smartly with the grain of the wood exposed to the elements in strategic places to give the sense of being built of multiple different types of wood. It boasted a long, wide boardwalk, thick glass windows and a warm yellow glow within. People, particularly traders and merchants, mill in and out, some hopping from rather expensive-looking carriages as they approach. "That's probably our hotel," She said, checking her wallet. "I've got money, so we can probably get our own rooms." She counted them out. "One, two, three, four...yeah, that should be doable." Priscilla and the rest of the party entered the hotel, and she made to the desk quickly, and bought their rooms without issue. There were a number of eyes on Torie, but nobody said ought as they sauntered down the hallway. The hotel smelled strongly of burning wood in the fire, and freshly-cleaned carpets. Priscilla led them down the hall, and towards their rooms. "I got us all rooms close to each other," she said brightly. "They don't allow smoking, or room service for that matter, but you're free to use the space for whatever else, and they have locks, too. Enchanted locks, as I understand it," She stopped at a nearby locked door to gesture at it. The door was locked, and on the well-forged steel fixings on the door, brilliant blue runes gleamed as she neared it, warning her away. "These should keep away eavesdroppers, scryers and would-be burglars. Unless they have a key, of course." She handed them off to the rest of them. Kian dangled his in front of his face, eyeballing it. He wanted to see if the key looked plain enough to be replicated, or copied easily, but it looked pretty unique. He pocketed it, as Priscilla paused before their rooms. "Alright," She clasped her hands together. "Get to your rooms and rest up. We're back on the road tomorrow!" The party split up, and Priscilla bid the party goodnight before vanishing into her bedroom. Kian glanced at his key again, then down the hall towards the exit. He could check out that graveyard later tonight, if things slowed down a bit around here. He sauntered over to his room, and unlocked it. "Right, well. If you need me, ladies." He said, with a little bit of almost hammy enthusiasm.
  2. Post is up. Hopefully it's not too horny. 🤐
  3. Although disappointed that neither of them chose to see things the way she had, she didn't allow it to get to her. Tevka made for a poor substitute for the fruit of Sin, after all. She relaxed as the drink was taken and disposed of, thankful she didn't have to finish the wine after all. As it was disposed of Bodice dragged her gaze across her company again, evaluating her assets, and their assets as well. She could imagine, in this future or perhaps another, that there was something here to be found, and dissected and enjoyed before being discarded, and for a moment she wondered if it would be similar to the discarded Tevka; an eternity in the making, but bitter and over not nearly fast enough. As if she were receptive to the Headmistress' very thoughts, Phoebe motioned towards the servant again, and the other beverage offered to them. That didn't sound particularly promising, but Bodice didn't pass on an opportunity to try something new. She accepted a glass of the Neznan, and locked eyes with her fair company for a moment. "Hm. I'm sure I'd enjoy the taste, regardless." She suggested, before raising her glass in a toast. "Sante." Bodice downed the Neznan all in one smooth motion, feeling the liquid burn against her tongue and throat as she did, but she didn't react to it in the slightest. It had an interesting, if not terribly complex flavor palate, and the simplicity was a boon for it. She finished draining the glass, and ran her tongue across her lips slowly, savoring the flavor before returning the glass. "Delicious," She muttered gently, before returning her attention to the present. She still hadn't acknowledged the other presence in the conversation now, and although she considered never getting around to it, it didn't seem sporting, especially given how familiar he was with Phoebe. Bodice turned her attention to him at last, and gave him a pleasant, almost inviting smile. "Speaking of delicious," She teased, acknowledging him at last. "It's very good to meet you as well, ah..." She paused, and looked him up and down, deciding once and for all that she didn't actually know who he was. Perhaps, in the future, she might. She leaned into that, inviting him to stare deep into her eyes, indulging in the close contact before making a minor suggestion. "You know, it occurs to me this is a Masquerade, oui? It follows, then, that you should tell me what to call you, hm? I'm not unfamiliar with playing pretend, after all." Regardless of her flirting, it was evident that whomever he was, he was there for Phoebe primarily, which suited Bodice fine. There were other things to focus on this evening, after all; promises that needed making and keeping, deals to strike. She was fairly certain there were more people to mingle with as well, somewhere. She eventually turned her attention back to Phoebe. "Well, ma cherie, it appears you are wanted elsewhere for now. I trust we'll meet again? My office is always open to visitors." She grinned. "Perhaps we'll get together for...measurements, and Neznan, again, hm?" There was a tone to how she suggested that, that made it evident this was a dismissal. With their little dance concluded, Bodice turned her attention to her other company, still lost in thought, and reached forward, plucking the glass from her hand, her long, smooth fingers dragging gently across Lucinda's knuckles as she did so. She glanced at the glass, curious before giving the girl before her a devilish smile. "Hm," She mused playfully. "Am I going to compete with bottled blood for your attention, my dear?"
  4. I'll have my next post up tomorrow, ideally!
  5. Seems like we overdid it then. It's a good thing, too, I was running out of fancy stuff to say. 😓
  6. Quill's vision was blurred, either through tears, or the dark, or fatigue, but she could still hear the screaming, squawking thing as Iohmar struggled with it. She groaned, and slowly tried to turn over, but she was exhausted. The motion of moving her body even an inch felt like an impossibility, so why even bother? Through foggy vision she saw Iohmar struggle, and go down. Despite the fear of the situation, Quill was strangely okay with surrendering here. She wouldn't have to look at this shit anymore, at least, right? She watched Iohmar, her eyes heavy, as the screeching creature did...whatever it was going to do. She didn't even remember watching it appear, so she wasn't actually sure how it acted or moved. It sure screamed a lot. It stopped screaming, eventually, and Quill swore as it did it saw the sunrise creeping in. She assumed they must have been on the other side of that corridor they'd first seen when they passed into the interior of the ship. They must have left the door open, or...did they? Quill sat up, though it hurt her head to do so and looked. No, that was definitely sunlight, of some kind. Sickly and bright and orange. She watched, transfixed, as the horrible little monster thing tried to flee the light pouring through the gashes in the wall, and decided to do the same, and as she shifted, she felt the whole ship move as well. She glanced around, rousing to consciousness as the vessel groaned and warped in the room next to them, where the light moved. Iohmar stepped over to her and offered her a hand. "Not in this lifetime," She grunted, seizing his hand and climbing to her feet. Her head still hurt, as did the rest of her body, but for now the fight or flight response kept her alive. With Iohmar with her, the two moved away quickly from the light, and the screaming monster still at large. No sooner had they exited the room did she hear a Bang! A cacophany of noise and ruptured metal, sounding from not only within the room they'd just been in, but down the halls as well. The ship groaned in response, and Quill glanced back the way they'd come from. "Come on," She urged Iohmar quietly, nodding her head back the way they came. "It's all blocked up over here, let's go check out back there." The duo slowly made their way back, and although much of the ship looked the same, Quill had a hard time believing they were the same area. Much like how in a cave there were no identifying landmarks, no standouts to make note of, passing back the way they came felt surreal and unfamiliar, the back end of the oddities and terror's they'd come across were as strange as the first time she'd seen them, and even then, they were still pretty weird and horrible. They passed by the odd, horrible eyeball thing once again, and Quill resisted the urge to look into it once more. They moved past the fleshy radio operator, and the tape feeding into him constantly, and once they reached the door at the end of the hall, found a welcome, yet somewhat worse sight. The orange light had passed already, moving somewhere else entirely, by the looks of things, but the damage had been done. The door, which had been blocked off by that thick, bone-like structure, had begun to rot from the middle towards the outside, and that same mold had eaten through the door and was beginning to eat the floor as well, but once the light had moved along, the mold had died, turning an ugly dark grey color and flaking off. Looking down, Quill could see the various structures and connectors between this floor and the floor beneath them. The rest of the hallway had suffered far different trauma, with the floor seemingly growing grass, bending out of shape and even twisting one of the doors lining the hall into a warped image of grasping hands. The duo walked down the hall carefully, and Quill had to move away from the hands as they reached out unexpectedly, the metal groaning as it moved. From there, they moved further down the hall, towards the source of the sound. From the looks of things, the orange light had caused some kind of bubble to form in the hull's side, and pop, leaving a jagged, hole in the wall that led back outside. They approached it slowly, their heavy footfalls taking them past the stairwell next to the door they'd entered from. And just then, Quill heard a soft sound. Whispering, among the groaning and howling wreckage. The tabaxi glanced towards her partner and tilted a head wordlessly towards the stairwell, suggesting silently that they check it out. She reached down, and carefully picked up a piece of the ruined hand rail to wield as a club, should she need it, and they approached the staircase, weapons at the ready.
  7. It is now @danzilla3 's turn to post!
  8. Post is up, you two! Feel free to interact with it however you like, though if you do something like run from a fight, try to work it out on OOC before taking it Live. With only the three of us, we should probably cooperate on what happens next to make sure it's fun. Beyond that, go nuts! Make it interesting however you like, just don't make it boring, ya dig?
  9. As the party continued to squabble amongst themselves, it became increasingly apparent how noisy the wood itself was. Typically, you could expect some ambience further away, but rarely was it so noisy. The wind, and the smells and the sounds, like getting sucker punched with nostalgia, continued to grow and grow, until the air became suffocating with distractions, all of which vanished as Veron broke up the fight. It quite tangibly retreated to the edges of the clearing, all the noise and smell and revelry snapping back all at once like a rubber band. Even those under it's influence felt it, uncomfortable and stifling as it was, for a time. Then the singing returned, as did the gentle smell of the woods, and that creeping feeling. In fact, this sensation persisted even after the first arrow flew. Out of the woods, opposite of Veron, Pyrrah and Husk, not even a twig snapped to give away the shooter as an arrow, fire upwards out of the woods, striking one of Veron's mercenaries. There wasn't a lot of time to gauge whether the blow had hit something vital, before more rocketed out of the woods, catching the party by surprise. One by one, the assassins made themselves known with a clattering of steel, rising out of the grass, drapedin blankets of moss and soil and terrain. Even their arrows were wrapped in leaves and moss, impossible to tell apart from twigs while laying on the ground. They clambered to their feet, knocking arrows and drawing weapons. They were shorter than the majority of the mercenaries, only averaging 5 feet tall, but with clothes and hair reminiscient of the season, their features elegant, their eyes large and black, almost innocent, but their faces set in grim determination. Another volley of arrows flew while the mercenaries mustered, some finding their mark, and as Pyrrah, Husk and Veron attempted to recoup, the man near them attempted to move. Well, it wasn't really his idea. The tree made him move. Shifting all at once, the tree closest to the three of them animated, hefting its great body in order to face them. The wood creaked and cracked as it did, raining fresh branches and leaves down upon them as it did, and it wound up with two of its large boughs to slam down into the earth, trying to crush them.
  10. My post is up. @Noko is up next, but they need some time to post.
  11. The party clambered into the wagon, shortly departed. The gates of Bronte swung wide to allow them exodus, and they rattled down the road towards Umbra. There was much to discuss, in regards to strategy, but without seeing Kingfishers much of it felt more speculative than certainty. Zalygos, for one, chose to remain silent for the duration of the ride, considering their options. To him, acquiring the books mattered more than burning the buildings. While he wouldn't question her motives, he didn't see the benefit in arson, especially such a high profile arson. While Bodice was confident this could not, would not, be traced back to them, the situation still stank of high risk. If something went wrong, if say one of these hirelings were caught dressed in the schools illustrious uniforms, there'd almost certainly be an investigation, the kind of stain on Her Lady's reputation that no amount of money, or kissing and don't telling could realistically wipe clear. The zeitgeist, as volatile as it was, craved scandal and crime, and the Headmistress could offer both in spades in a matter of hours today. The ride was long, but uneventful, and eventually they found themselves before Kingfishers. Zalygos has been in Kingfishers before, with his father. It was a well-kept, family-owned collectors shop, and he was fairly certain at one point his mother's sheet music from the old days of Tevka had been brought there for curation and restoration. He'd often wondered if they'd given her the original when they'd left, or merely a well-done copy. He supposed he could find out while they were there. "Okay, here's the thing." He said in a low voice as they exited the carriage. He pulled out a heavy, dark jacket, lined with fur and wrapped it around himself, hiding his uniform from view. "Madame Brouchard wants us to be seen in our uniforms putting out the fires, but if we're spotted wearing them in the first place we'll be recognized easily. Hide your uniform or stay out of sight, everyone." Once his jacket was prepared, he strode towards the front door, intent on surveying the location before things got started. Zalygos started a slow sweep from the main floor, feigning interest as soon as he came in. "Good Afternoon," The woman behind the register greeted him warmly. She was an attractive woman, but he didn't see her in that way. He barely saw her at all, really. He sauntered up to the counter and leaned against it, flashing her a toothy grin. "A Fine Afternoon to you, too." He replied pleasantly. He'd keep her engaged in conversation for a while, until the others had come in and started their investigation.
  12. I'll be posting sometime tonight or tomorrow. We'll be moving to Kingfisher's first, which is a private book collector/restoration place. I'll be providing a very loose description of the building as Zalygos cases the location, and if you guys want to know any specifics about the building, in or out, you're free to ask about them here, or make them up! Yes, I am telling you right now that you have permission to make up elements of the place on the fly, in order to suit your character's actions and needs! I am trying to make the thread more exciting by basically giving you free reign in how you handle the resolution of any conflicts we have, so feel free to ham it up if you want!
  13. As all the gear made its way onto the stage, Dreggz milled around checking the stage itself. Or she would, if it was possible--she couldn't really see underneath it from her side of the stage, as it was closed-faced. She suspected if it was hollow and held up with braces, she'd find a means of checking that out backstage somewhere. Instead of hunting for this space, however, she walked around, stamping her feet and listening for echoes as best as she could, which probably got annoying after a few steps. It seemed solid enough, though. Satisfied, the goblin moved to check on Belle's drum set, and casually produced the stoagie to wave it in front of her. "See the smokie, Belle?" She teased, waving it back and forth for a moment. "You play the drums like a professional for a change, and I'll give this to you right after the show. I'll even look into finding you a playmate if I can, sound good?" She tucked it away again and patted the drum set before strolling back to listen in on Leon talking with the tall lady. Really, she looked like she was supposed to be dancing on stage, Dreggz thought. She was pretty enough to be a show girl, or at least knew how to present herself like one, but Dreggz found that she sounded too in control to be one. She had that boss bitch attitude for sure. "Actually, I might have a few," Dreggz raised a hand. "Yeah, so my friend over there is a vegetarian, so she needs some of that green stuff, you know? Is there a buyer around here anywhere?" Leon was right next to her, but when he spoke up she shushed him down. "I'm also curious about the staff you got around here. What's the deal with this place, part nightclub part whorehouse? What'd'you do here?"
  14. "Do you normally have to deal with this sort of thing?" Kian spoke up, asking Priscilla. The Runesmith pinched her brow and sighed in annoyance. "Okay, tell you what;" She said to each of them. "No murder. I'm calling it now, and I won't be repeating myself. I'm putting a cleaner's fee on anyone who kills anybody that doesn't attack us first. Put your weapons away and behave like a human being for at least a bit." She pointed at Dia, and jerked her hand back towards the road ahead of them. "I told you what the job is, and I've put up with your shitty attitude. Keep walking down this road or you're off the payroll. I don't deal with lunatics and I don't deal with murderers--if I can help it, at least." Then she pointed at Kian, who kind of backed up a bit as she jabbed a finger at him. "You-you haven't actually done anything wrong, so you're fine. Don't kill anybody." He flashed her a thumbs up, and without further incident the party moved on. Torie climbed back on the wagon, and they travelled without incident. The old hamlet rolled past without much comment. Kian took a break from walking to stand on the side railing, gripping the door as they trundled past. He looked into the deep, tired, but otherwise happy expressions of the villagers, but didn't see a cemetary or marked graves of any kind. He figured they likely didn't have anything worth excavating anyway. Approximately 4 hours following that, the wagon finally rolled past the first of several small buildings on the outskirts of the nearest town. The rooftops were low, and mostly uniform, but made of various, fresher materials this far out so many of them looked rather similar, though several of them had unique markings on top--blankets or tarps piled loosely on top, fragments of wooden shingles either in the process of being placed down, or picked up, and maybe one or two holes. Various conifers and deciduous branches, leaves and pines were scattered throughout, the first real sign of forestry for quite some time. Close by the town, a small orchard of what appeared to be fruit trees was planted on a small hill about a mile away, and trees were scattered sporadically further away from it as well, the likely actions of heavy wind and careless birds. Priscilla found a small burst of energy, just enough to shake off the fatigue of several hours on a long trip to stand up and open the carriage door, and hop down. She strolled alongside it as she breathed the fresh, cool air. It tasted of pine needles, and fresh lumber, and yet, the crisp air couldn't dismiss the tiredness that had taken root in her bones and brain. They needed to find a place to rest for the evening. "Alright, I've been nothing but mean to you two for this whole trip." She said to Dia and Kian. Dia seemed mostly unbothered by the long trip, but Kian was about to pass out. He'd eventually found a way on top of the vehicle and laid there for a while, but it did nothing to improve his mental state. "No, no it's fine," He mumbled, lifting a hand as if to show he was alright. The catboy yawned, his ears splaying against the side of his head as he did so. "Are you sure?" She asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "I was going to rent us some nice rooms in a proper part of town." "I mean, you can still do that." Kian said. "And you definitely should, but like, I'm fine, y'know? Nothing a little walking can't fix." Priscilla relocated the carriage into a stables for the night, and paid for the cargo on board to be safely stored within a small storehouse, before the party took off at a slow slog towards the center of town. The closer they got, the taller the buildings got, and the older as well, with the higher floors being made of newer materials much of the time. Many of the taller ones had braces and catwalks on the outside, to keep the building upright presumably. The town itself wasn't nearly deserted at this time of night, but instead was quite busy, even this late. Much of the business at this hour involved wagons of all kinds being offloaded and reloaded. There were more than a couple hotels and inns to choose from, and Priscilla got the impression that the town's primary source of income was travelling people passing through on their way to other places. There was likely to be a hotel big enough to fit them all near the heart of town, which meant a lot of travelling through, and past, the other districts, experiencing the night life. Several vendors and shops were still open and active, even in the dark of knight, with lanterns hung from rooftops and rafters to light the way. Moving far from the buildings plunged one further into darkness, but there was also a number of oddities to be found there. More than once, the party passed a group of street urchins engaged in some street game or another, and even, on the far end of the town square as they neared it, Kian spied what appeared to be a church, and what could only be a cemetery directly next to it.
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