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Trexasle

[Port Kyros] It's Alive

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The beautiful Coastline of Port Kyros was fairly active today, specifically near the port square. The Stone building seemingly bustling with life and commerce, one could very easily hear the chatter and bickering of many merchants and barters communicating with customers and suckers alike. This is where we find Leontias Metalliene, The Spotlight Kid that the few that knew him had pertained to call him, and he was having quite the hard time, as emphasized by him letting out a giant scream that seemed to garner the attention of everyone in the merchant’s square.

“Goddamnit, not a single one of them is right.”

He ruffled his hand through his long black tufts of unruly hair. Leon had already assigned himself to a job nearby, which with a bit of protest Crystal actually allowed for him to do feeling that he could actually handle it accordingly. It was a partial relief as it did let him out of the house as he wanted. So here he was searching through Port Kyros attempting to go shopping for the perfect engagement ring whist on his way to meet with the client. He was partially relieved she wasn’t here for it. He wanted this to be somewhat of a surprise, especially coming from him the thought never quite crossed his mind until just recently that he…actually wanted to do this. It was why he was working so many jobs and was out of the house so much. He was actually worried that maybe he was too far away from her especially giving their past trauma with being apart so much. However, he truly wanted to make sure what he decided for the engagement and wedding rings was absolutely perfect.

Which is why he was frustrated, instead of continuing on with the frustration of shopping, he decided to take his mind off to work. Walking away from the merchant, he gave a sigh and a wave and moved through the town. The bard reached into his pocket, careful not to interfere with the crowded town square by bumping into a random pedestrian, as he reached for a small piece of paper, which seemed to have an address to the location in question. He was supposed to be meeting a crew to assist with someone moving into her new shop. He took the job simply due to ease of use and monetary gain, for the last few posting he had a rather stretch of near death situations that worried the missus and was something he would rather not continue on with, at least for a while. He already got enough for his actual job of being a travelling musician, something that he knew he needed to slow down on, especially with their child’s recent birth.

So a small job like this seemed like a nice change of pace for him, and certainly should be something he should be able to just get in and get out of.

@Malintzin@danzilla3@Jotnotes@The Hound

 

 

Edited by Trexasle

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Baron samedi by ziEcAelum on DeviantArt

 

Ooh Death

Whooooah Death

Won't you spare me over 'til another year?

In the very same market where Leontias was searching for a wedding ring worthy of his beloved, a small crowd had gathered around a certain streetlamp. Despite the fact that it was still daylight, the lamp glowed with a strange purple hue. Beneath the lamp stood a man. His clothing seemed to straddle the edge between gaudy and tasteful, and his face had been painted to resemble a skull. Standing there, he kept both his hands on the cane he held in front of him; looking down so that his eyes could not be seen.

Well what is this that I can't see

These ice-cold hands taking hold of me

The singers voice was mesmerizing; none in the crowd gathered around him seemed able to look away. A shiver ran through those assembled, as though they could feel the chill of death which the man spoke of.

Well I am Death none can excell

I'll open the door to Heaven or Hell

Whoa Death someone would pray

Could you wait to call me another day

Now the singer looked up, his icy blue eyes seeming to pierce each and every one of those who met his gaze. For those assembled it was like he was speaking to them, and them alone. Like he was revealing a truth that had somehow eluded them until now. Eagerly they listened, their need to hear his words almost physical.

The children prayed the preacher preached

Time and mercy out of your reach

I'll close your eyes so you can't see

This very hour come and go with me

Ooh Death

Whoooooah Death

Won't you spare me over 'til another year?

The song ended, the lamplight faded away, and the audience seemed to awake from their trance. They clapped and whistled their appreciation, to which the Singer bowed gracefully. Once those gathered began to disperse, he would look again for the person who had summoned him here.

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"Port Kyros," The goblin sounded the words out around the wad of soggy flesh in her mouth. She tried to wrestle with it, her tongue rolling around the meat, pressing against the slick fat lining the edge of the ragged morsel as she attempted, more or less, to 'taste' the word. It wasn't successful.

She didn't check to look if anyone was staring at her, and spat the meat out onto the street in front of her. At her brisk pace, she crushed it underfoot quickly, her heavy boots smearing it into a wet spot on the dusty, sunbleached stone.

Her lunch wasn't worth the paper it was served in, she grimaced, tossing the remnants aside for some hungry gull to find. Despite her distaste with the food, at least the city looked nice. Port Kyros was big, and noisy, bathed in sunlight and soaked in sea salt. It was bustling and exciting, both of which were big pluses in her opinion. Big cities were more her speed; you never saw the same person twice, never have to be in the same place twice. Walking down the main road, buildings swept past her fast--as fast as the people did--but she didn't pay much attention to the architecture or whatever. She did spy a bar, though. She'd be visiting that later, after her work was done.

Speaking of work. she had no idea where she was supposed to go. It probably said where to go on the script she'd read when she signed up, but that was earlier, and she couldn't remember much of what it said. She supposed she could ask about it, maybe check in with a few places and figure things out, but that was a bit quick for her liking. Dreggz didn't go anywhere fast, wandering through the center of town, close enough to listen and look, as a musician performed for a modest crowd.

On 12/23/2019 at 3:57 AM, danzilla3 said:

Well what is this that I can't see

These ice-cold hands taking hold of me

She frowned. She couldn't see the singer, on account of the people in her way. She shoved her way through, but they were pretty densely packed. It took her some effort. Her heavy shoulderpads knocked into people as she pushed past, her axe grazing a few people as she hustled through.

On 12/23/2019 at 3:57 AM, danzilla3 said:

The children prayed the preacher preached

Time and mercy out of your reach

I'll close your eyes so you can't see

This very hour come and go with me

Ooh Death

Whoooooah Death

Won't you spare me over 'til another year?

By the time she made her way to the front, the music was over, and the crowd was cheering and clapping, obviously impressed with the display. The goblin stood, not far from where he was performing, and stared.

He was something of a looker. Beyond his makeup and dress, she thought he looked kind of handsome, long of face and dour of expression, like the sort of guy that didn't smile much. She couldn't blame him; his song was beautiful, but macabre. It also lacked a certain element of rock and roll that she couldn't excuse.

As folks gave their praise and threw tips at him, she strode over, confidently sashaying close before taking a long, slow and obvious look over his countenance, as if stripping him down with her gaze alone.

She struck him with a confident smile, pointed teeth gleaming like dagger points. 

"Pretty grim song, but I think you get points for presentation."

Dreggz shuffled a bit on her feet, her heavy amplifier pauldrons heaving a bit as she did, She scrapped her ScrapGun-Tar-Axe against the ground, making it screech as she did. She lowered her shades with one hand, peering over them at him.

"My name's Dreggz, but you can call me 'Reggz' for now. I'll get the D later." She joked.

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The Enoteca, Wine and Workshop—though most people didn’t know about the workshop bit. Just as good. It was one of the most luxurious places in Port Kyros, well known for their brand of wine. The fertile hills off the coast at the feet of the mountains that would sweep into the south were well endowed with various species of grapes that were perfect for wine making. And so, the Enoteca served as a beacon of hope and flourished.

The outside seemed minimal and modern with slabs of marble and stacked stone in a grey palette. The inside? Warm with distressed shellacking coupled with a romantic, whimsical canopy of trees overhead. Soft twinkling lights tastefully wove through the canopy and some dripped down like fairy lights as an open fire roared in the stone fireplace to combat the Western chill of the season. Small, curtained windows framed by wooden shutters let some light filter through, and small, intimate tables are arranged for the flow of impeccable service. It is clear the Enoteca is meant to be an oasis of intimacy and romance and certainly no place for the riff raff that was outside.

After lunch in the late afternoon, the Enoteca would open its doors for a few hours, allowing the locals and tourists trailing in from Port Kyros to make their reservations and dine for the wine or see their wares inspected, repaired, or built to order. The cellar would open as the orders for the best of the best wines make their way in. Meals are prepared light and are not meant to satisfy those who are voraciously hungry. Built for refinement, elegance and courtesy—drunken debauchery is heavily frowned upon and security is never far. Lately, though…lately things were different.

Security loitered near the entrance, where the strange and wondrous singing emanated. What was going on outside? What was that? If it were some manner of sorcery, no doubt the Mistress and her Hellion Dog had something to do with it. There had been a string of folks from the supernatural world filtering through—much more so than usual. At long last the Artificer was relocating to Port Kyros from Alethea. Though normally they were undisturbed by the witch, circumstances had forced the Enoteca to temporarily shut down. Magestorms were a curious phenomenon; while Kyrosians and beyond were acclimated to them, and Artamese certainly knew of them—she had never actually experienced one.

Until they transformed her books, baubles and belongings into living things that terrorized the poor winery. And so, she was hiring help to seduce or subdue them, unspell them (for her own flavor of magic was partly useless) and find a proper new home for them at the new workshop before the winery went out of business.

She just simply had very little faith in anyone getting it done the way she wanted it to.

“Miss! We think the next batch is here! Not terribly sure with all the racket…these two certainly look weird enough!” One of the security guards turned to bellow down the hall.  The witch wasn’t so terrible, just that she lacked a bit in people skills and all—holed up in her spot for a spell. The guard chuckled at his own pun.

Artamese Prewitt was a remarkably pleasant and pretty young thing, with nothing extraordinarily beautiful about her. Her hair was pulled back into a pony’s tail, her bangs side swept across her features. She was lean and muscled from all her expeditions, her skin olive-complected from her many excavations. “You’re too much, honestly.” She remarked flatly. Flicking her wrists and fanning her book, she shooed the staff away. “Go on—back to your posts, ya dry sods.” Pursing her lips in displeasure, the Scrivener threw the door open and marched into the street.

“If you don’t stop that awful, dreadful excuse for singing I will have my dog chase you out of the city! If this is the best the city has to offer in terms of talent, I had a fairer chance staying in Alethea! If you’re here to answer my ad, get in here before you get locked out!

@Trexasle @danzilla3 @Jotnotes

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Leon had only been around Port Kyros for a few days, but it seemed the port was easily fairly easy to travel through, So following the address that eventually led to his job what something that wasn’t difficult to comprehend. What Was difficult to comprehend however, was WHATEVER Voice he heard singing. His ears twitched, eyes widened as his head turned to the direction of the voice. It was, damn there magical. As Leon turned toward the man he gave a chuckle, It was certainly magical allright, he could damn there see the presence as the citizens of the town were already sure to gather around him. Leon However, decided not to crowd around, he knew not to interfere with someone who was already set into the spotlight.

Using Magic to alter and enhance his vocal chords, nothing new…In Fact it was very familiar, in ways that he would rather not remember. However, unlike where he remembered it from, It was raw…still unfocused, but ready to grow. All of a sudden, Leon’s blood proceeded to stir, as an idea shaped into his head.

However, there was someone apparently here to piss on the fertilizer.

“If you don’t stop that awful, dreadful excuse for singing I will have my dog chase you out of the city! If this is the best the city has to offer in terms of talent, I had a fairer chance staying in Alethea! If you’re here to answer my ad, get in here before you get locked out!

“Awful? Dreadful? Do you have corn in your ear, lass? I believe he comported himself admirably”

Leon’s comment was followed with a simple nod, He had only just walked through after hearing the source of the voice, whoever that was certainly had talent. It was clearly untapped and not used much, but He knew a good singer when he heard one. Leon unlatched his hand from his pocket and held it out, in order to introduce himself. Unknowingly he had slightly leaned in as he did so, his elbow now resting on the goblin’s head below him.

 

“Leontias Metalliene, The best Damn Guitarist…Period. Pleasure to meet ya.”

@Malintzin@danzilla3@Jotnotes

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The singer silently appraised the goblin standing before him. He showed no outward reaction to Dreggz joke, but did give a slight bow when she introduced herself. Samedi showed the same lack of reaction to Prewitt's insult to his singing voice, not really caring much about her appraisal. The crowd had been more than satisfied with his performance, and that was more than enough. In response, he simply tipped his hat slightly in her direction and began to make his way inside. 

Before he could do so, another stranger stepped in to defend his performance, which the singer silently appreciated. When the man extended a hand to him, he gave his own and shook.

"Iwa Samedi, at your service."

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The makeup-clad singer bowed politely at her joke, but didn't do much else. She wasn't fooled, though. She flashed him a confident grin as he looked her over quickly, going from her head to her toe. He didn't linger on her much, but not because she didn't try. As his gaze roamed across her, she gave her chest a small puff, and put on a little pout for him, cocking her head and staring at him through a lidded gaze. 

On 12/28/2019 at 9:44 AM, Malintzin said:

“If you don’t stop that awful, dreadful excuse for singing I will have my dog chase you out of the city! If this is the best the city has to offer in terms of talent, I had a fairer chance staying in Alethea! If you’re here to answer my ad, get in here before you get locked out!

She flinched a bit, taken aback by the unexpected shouting, and glanced towards whoever screeched at them. The angry woman was leaning forward, hands on her hips, obviously furious. However, she did look familiar.

The Goblin attempted to lean around her, glancing towards the building she came from, but had no such luck, because other noisy people showed up.

From the murmuring crowd, somebody else said spoke up, slicing through the general lull of the other spectators.

On 12/30/2019 at 7:16 PM, Trexasle said:

“Awful? Dreadful? Do you have corn in your ear, lass? I believe he comported himself admirably”

Then, a heavy weight on her head, suddenly weighing her down. Her blood turned cold, then hot and hotter, as she felt a man's elbow did into her skull. She glanced up, just barely able to make him out. He extended his hand in greeting to the street performer.

On 12/30/2019 at 7:16 PM, Trexasle said:

“Leontias Metalliene, The best Damn Guitarist…Period. Pleasure to meet ya.”

"Oh, you really think so?" She growled under her breath. She was, somehow, completely unnoticed by him, the lumbering, stupid-talking twink. She glanced at her guitar-gun-axe, but voted against butchering him in the street. Sides, she couldn't reach it from here, anyway.

The hot one acknowledged Leon's greeting, and shook his hand.

On 1/2/2020 at 3:34 AM, danzilla3 said:

"Iwa Samedi, at your service."

Ooooh, he talks cute, too! She grinned to herself as she reached down and plucked one of her shoelaces free, and quickly wrapped it around Leon's ankles. Deft and soft, he couldn't feel a thing. Satisfied with her work quickly, she reached up, and grabbed his elbow, and darted out from under him, pulling him forward by the elbow.

Any attempt to catch himself, to recover or get his balance back, was met immediately by his feet being bound up, and he toppled to the ground. Once he was down, she rested an elbow on the top of his head, and hissed down at him.

"You're lucky I didn't bite your fingers off, pretty boy." She growled. "I don't like being ignored, and I don't like being used as an armrest."

Artamese wasn't waitng around, though, and now that she was free to check out the store, she recognized the name of it immediately.

"Oh, this is the place!" She exclaimed, hopping away from Leon. She hustled past the others, right up to the door, and hurried inside, disappearing within.

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Into the restaurant they filed, and a set of chairs had been set out for each of them to take a seat. Even refreshments had been prepared for them—though she wondered if they would even care for the dainty and renowned delicacies of the Enoteca. It was an extremely refined taste, yet Artamese insist they serve something simple and tasty for their guests.

Sitting a few feet away was a chest. A very lively chest, no less. It shuddered, thunked and thudded. It rattled and wiggled on the floor. It was very clear that something inside of it was fighting to get out.

“Now then.” Artamese sighed as she crossed her arms and paced, “Please help yourselves to something before you begin. Let me start by prefacing that I will not be joining you. I must return to Alethea for the rest of my things. The restaurant is closed, and the guards are here to keep others out while you work.”

She chewed on her right thumb in thought, “Magestorms are not uncommon to Genesaris—we all know that. But it would appear that this particular one has had an intriguing side effect. I tinker, I dabble, I read and study a great deal on magical artifacts old and new.” Her lips rolled nervously as she abruptly turned to face them.

“What I mean to say is, some of my personal effects have become, well. Alive.” Now her hands were twisting nervously—what in the world was she so nervous for? All that gruff earlier and now she was paling before this motley crew. She wasn’t sure just how dangerous it was going to be in there.

“I could show you! That is to say, I’m afraid I don’t have the magic to undo what has been done. That is why you are here. Were I not pressed for time to finish my move I would assist you. I have a very important voyage coming up and I simply must have everything in order before then.” She felt as though she were failing terribly in speaking to these people. She wasn’t sure how to say—the right way to say it, anyway. People were not her strongest suit. After she had been so rude earlier, Artamese now felt very small and pleading.

“All I can say is that should you successfully help clean up this mess, I think you may find the crown reward quite substantial.”

@Trexasle @Jotnotes @danzilla3

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“Well it’s certainly good to meet you are well Friiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeend!”

 

He yelled as he suddenly found his laces of his boots tied together, he scrambled for a moment, swinging his hands wildly in the air as he attempted to keep his balance. However, this would fail, His body tilted forward, falling face first into the ground, luckily with his hands falling before his face and thus not shattering it. He attempted to lift his head up from the ground, only to get sad on by the goblin. He took a sigh as she seemed to threaten him. He was already used to talk like this, mostly with the wife and a few groupies he had already met, so he was well situated in what to do in the situation. “You know, if you wanted to crawl on top of my head, we could’ve just asked, Ain’t the first time a lass tried to ride my face, you know. “ He gave a chuckle, using the comment to guide the spur of his boot into the string of his boot laces, slicing him as he lifted himself up, the Goblin still sitting on his head.

It would seem however, that both the goblin and the singer were part of the same job he was, he blinked for a moment as he took a sigh of relief. He was actually aggravated that it would be another solo mission with little to no direction, but it seemed both the partners were here and the benefactor was around to give instruction. So instead of continuing to play around, he would follow her to the Restaurant.

 


Now he wasn’t surprised that the lass wouldn’t be joining them. That seemed obvious that she wasn’t one to get her hand dirty with something like fighting and clean up. However, Leon was already taking note of a few things. She was biting her thumb, clearly nervous. She was scared of something, possibly ashamed. If he was many things, he was attentive, so as she attempted to explain what she was going to do, he already began to build a profile. She described herself as a Tinkerer of Magical artifacts, which also didn’t surprise Leon. However, if she was so good at tinkering what would be the issue? As he listened more, he leaned in his seat, sipping his cup of tea. “I am assuming this is a spell gone awry?” He spoke Nonchalantly. It seemed that as good as she was with crafting artifacts, she seemed bad at controlling them, or at least it would seem she had a history of backfire. Again, so it seemed. He would be certain not to blame her entirely, he would need more evidence for that.

“My Second Question is, I am guessing you want collateral damage to be reduced? Possessed or not, these are sacred items and I am willing to believe you want them as pristine as they were originally?”

@Jotnotes@Malintzin@danzilla3

Edited by Trexasle

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Iwa sat down and partook of the refreshments on offer. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he felt that it would be impolite to refuse when their host had gone to the trouble of making them. Listening to the woman's conundrum, he felt somewhat sorry for her. She was obviously overwhelmed by the situation, and wasn't used to asking for help. All of that was okay by him. The promise of a reward was what he had come for.

"I shall help you."

The singer drained his glass, then looked back at Artamese, "What is the nature of the artifacts that have animated?"

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Dreggz made herself comfortable quickly; barely giving their hostess a chance to invite them to make themselves at home before climbing up into a chair and grabbing something to eat. Without ceremony, she grabbed whatever was within reach and chewed mechanically, bits of shredded bread and ribbons of meat and sugary pulp vanishing behind her pointed teeth. Instead of reaching for anything available for them to drink on the table, the goblin reached into her purse and felt around before pulling free a flask, which she dumped into a nearby glass before swallowing the contents whole.

Eventually, other folks joined her, entering the room as well. In particular, she gave the street performer a toothy grin when she spied him entering the building. Her grin was not diminished when she saw the 'guitarist' walk in either, though she imagined the malice behind her smile was plenty obvious. They joined her at the table, and once they were all inside and comfortable, their hostess. What was her name? Artamese? Something like that. Anyway, she started talking, and Dreggz paused for a moment to listen, gnawing on a tough biscuit.

On 1/5/2020 at 4:37 PM, Malintzin said:

“Now then.” Artamese sighed as she crossed her arms and paced, “Please help yourselves to something before you begin. Let me start by prefacing that I will not be joining you. I must return to Alethea for the rest of my things. The restaurant is closed, and the guards are here to keep others out while you work.”

She chewed on her right thumb in thought, “Magestorms are not uncommon to Genesaris—we all know that. But it would appear that this particular one has had an intriguing side effect. I tinker, I dabble, I read and study a great deal on magical artifacts old and new.”

She quickly grew distracted by a constant, and present rattling noise behind the party. The goblin leaned to one side, and peered around the woman, and found the culprit. A chest bounced and wobbled, seemingly on its own. She peered closely at it, hoping to see a bit more. She largely ignored the rest of whatever was said, and hopped down to investigate the chest a bit closer.

Tottering over, she found that it was a well-made thing, locked tight. She noticed that there didn't appear to be any strain on the lid that she could see, however. Maybe the chest itself was bouncing around? How full was it, anyway? Ignoring the discussion behind her, she attempted to board the chest, mostly out of curiousity. It bucked and bounced, so it took her a bit of time, but before long she was on top of the chest, sitting on her knees as it bounced and jumped beneath her, almost unhindered by her minor weight.

She chuckled to herself, and attempted to stand, and was quickly knocked off of it, falling in a heap on the ground. In particular, she landed on her shoulder, and she heard, rather than felt, the audible crunch as something was destroyed.

Dreggz groaned--not in pain, but annoyance.

"Damn it, not my speaker!" She sat up and quickly gathered the pieces of her pauldron. It was firmly bashed to pieces. She would need a lot of glue, and even then it was likely not going to cover the damages. With a huff, she tossed the debris aside, and walked back to Artamese.

"Okay, so if we take care of your wobbly trinkets, we get paid, right? That simple?" She clasped her hands together and glanced over at the other two. 

"Should be a snap. Between my ability to boss people around, and your ability to do things, we'll have this done in a snap."

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“I—yes.” Artamese answered Dreggz’ question first. She was a little too stunned for much else before she gathered her wits. Some of my books are flapping about like birds. I have some preserved organs that are trying to get out. Let’s see, uhm. Oh! Please, please be careful with my skinned rug. It’s quite cranky, I’m afraid.” She wracked her brain. She walked in to what she could only describe as something of a circus and promptly shut and locked the door (“SSIIMMMMOOOOONNN!”).

“Please don’t hurt my precious tomes. At least try. And beware the flying swords—they seem to be itching for a fight—I narrowly escaped.” Artamese sighed a tucked a strand behind her ear. “I don’t have much in the way of elemental magic, but I imagine because this foreign magic was thrust into it from the store you have to extract and contain it. I have,” She quickly walked into the dining room of the restaurant, her voice pitching as she rummaged into the kitchen, “A special bottle that should be able to contain magic!” She returned with a quart-sized glass bottle and presented it to the group, “It will detect magic and vacuum it up, just like—.” She awkwardly moved the bottle to one arm, tried to snap her finger animatedly—and nearly dropped the bottle in the process.

She carefully placed it on the ground and backed away from it before her clumsy hands caused more trouble.

“It’s imperative to extract the foreign magic. If I weren’t so pressed for time I would try but I don’t imagine I could have done it by myself. Alethea’s local officials are pressing me to return to the old address and wrap up my paperwork. They’re not very nice to humans over there…”

She was nervously beginning to ramble, her fingers twisting and fidgeting. “Anyway! I greatly appreciate your assistance. You weren’t quite what I was expecting but I trust you won’t disappoint.” Artamese, ever a woman with only the kindest words. Sitting by the entrance was a suitcase and cloak, “I have to run or I’m going to miss the next flight out.” She fished around in her pocket before producing several small amethyst stones and passing them out to each, “These have been spelled to contact me. Rub your thumb across it—yes, like you’re trying to clean a smudge, very good. Rub your thumb like that and it will contact me if you need help.”

Satisfied the restaurant and her shop might be saved, Artamese collected suitcase and draped her cloak over her arm.

“Best of luck to you. Call me if you need me!” And with that she hurried out.

That was far too many people for her liking.

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Leons noticed her specific movements as she began to describe the situation,,, As he listened to her request and saw their means of capturing the magical essence, and how she seemed absolutely nervous about it. It was then that Leon had already determined she was clearly comfortable, was it because of her skill level or the fact that she wasn’t used to this level of interaction. He kept most of it in mind as she continued her briefing of the current objective. He merely leaned back toward his seat as she seemed to finally finish her briefing and leading herself out. She was fairly quick, Which left Leon somewhat confused, blinking his eyes rapidly. It was starting to make a bit of sense and he could at least finally find out what happened. While not necessary it did fuel Leon’s abject curiosity. He moved his eyes toward his team and gave a shrug.

“Is it just me or was she very relieved to depart?”

It was offhanded and mostly done to make sure that the silent didn’t fill the room. Leon lifted himself from his seat and held his hand out in front of him, He took a deep breath and gave a smile, suddenly from the window a lightning strike proceeded to hit the man, but instead of being anywhere near harmed his hand was suddenly greeted with his weapon of choice. It wasn’t a guitar, or at least not by it’s original look. It was clearly a guitar it’s body replaced with a clear axe bit, which seemed to glow a violent electric blue as he held onto the neck, he slammed the bit of his axe into the ground and leaned on it. “So…How do you guys want to proceed, I am guessing with how she decided to just leave us with one bottle of this magic containing thingy, we will need to group up these…familiars?” He spoke seemingly confused on what he described as Familiars.

Edited by Trexasle

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On 1/25/2020 at 9:55 PM, Trexasle said:

“Is it just me or was she very relieved to depart?”

Iwa shrugged, and moved toward the closed door behind which chaos apparently lurked. Leon's hypothesis that they would only get once chance to use the magic-draining bottle seemed like a correct one to him. At the very least, it made sense to proceed under that assumption in the absence of knowledge otherwise. That would mean that the animated objects would need to be gathered into one spot, and pacified. Once they were distracted, the magic could be drained out of them. 

"Get them all in one place. I will pacify them."

He tapped his cane upon the ground, and then seemed to disappear in a flash of light. Once cloaked, he opened the door and walked in.

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The other two jobbies glanced around them while 'Arty' took her leave. The goblin supposed they were feeling uncomfortable with her leaving them alone in here. It was her loss, though. Without her to keep her out of things, Dreggz figured now was as good a time as any to nose around and grab everything that wasn't nailed down.

On 1/25/2020 at 9:55 PM, Trexasle said:

“Is it just me or was she very relieved to depart?”

Dreggz shrugged. "Maybe she has some embarrassing stuff around here." She glanced back at the chest behind her and jabbed a thumb at it, cocking a grin. "You think she keeps her bedside toys in there?"

The two of them ignored her. The twinkish-looking one walked away from them, towards and open window. Dreggz glanced around; the chest nearby was still bouncing and rattling. Was it even a good idea to have open windows with flying and flapping objects possibly everywhere? He seemed to have other ideas in mind, however, as out of frickin' nowhere a bolt of lightning slammed into him.

"Oh fuck!" She stumbled backwards, in case he exploded. Viscera was difficult to get out of this jacket, she knew from experience. She remained on edge, however, after the light cleared and...whatever his name was remained standing, clutching a familiar shape.

She frowned at him. "H-hey!" She procured her own Scrap-Gun-Tar-Axe from her shoulder and held it with two hands, clearly annoyed. "Quit ripping off my style--and stop hogging all the cool bits, I can't get struck by lightning yet!"

He was an enigma, and she'd already forgotten his name which was equally frustrating, so she couldn't even fuss over him that much. Who was this guy, with his shitty manners, and his 'in-your-face' attitude and his fedora-speech and his totally not as cool as her's guitar? So many questions, and no answers yet.

She let her guitar rest at her side. Close by, the other one got her attention, easily. When he spoke, she spun in place to look at him, eyeing him up and down. She wondered how he looked out of his makeup.

She grinned.

On 1/27/2020 at 2:29 AM, danzilla3 said:

"Get them all in one place. I will pacify them."

He tapped his walking stick on the ground, vanishing. She glanced around and said, very loudly. 

"Oh dear, he vanished! I sure hope nobody invisible attempts to cop a feel while I can't see them." There was a pause, and nothing happened, causing her to groan in frustration.

"Fuck it," She grumped, stomping off towards whatever door happened to be nearest. "I'm gonna go find some stuff to fix my speakers, then. You guys have fun screwing around, I guess."

She turned the knob, and pushed the door open. Almost immediately, a stool stampeded past her, clacking on the floor as it bounded around like an overexcited dog.

"W-whoa!" She spun in place, pressing her back against the door, pushing it open even more. She didn't even check behind her, as she watched the stool canter about, jumping up on furniture and Leons, and whatever it could get close to.

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