City of Whispers
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Player's online availability : Tag me and I shall arrive. You can also tag Thorny Boy on Discord.
Registered: Nov 22, 2017 19:15:32 GMT -8
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Post by City of Whispers on Jan 20, 2018 14:32:51 GMT -8
Despite its pleasant name, the Work of Art is not one wants to find oneself. If ever one is wandering off the beaten path, or travelling with friends, they might find themselves in a world quite unlike the one they had started their travels in. A perfect analogue to the material world, the trees are canvas, the ground; parchment that buckles slightly beneath your feet. Inclines and cliffs would be projected as sharp angles, like folded paper. Even looking up wasn't an escape, as far, far in the air the sky merely paper painted blue or gray, like a child's art with fat little stationary clouds painted straight onto the surface.
The sun, far in the distance, was a yellow pool of paint on the "sky", that rotated to be replaced by a moon, typically at static intervals. It wasn't only the appearance of Arts that was different though, one would find while travelling. And not everything was as simply as it seemed.
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City of Whispers
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Player's online availability : Tag me and I shall arrive. You can also tag Thorny Boy on Discord.
Registered: Nov 22, 2017 19:15:32 GMT -8
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Post by City of Whispers on Jan 20, 2018 14:36:11 GMT -8
As they proceeded through these "woods", each step upon this false ground felt...unnatural. There were no normal curves as they passed small ledges, where the parchment-like earth they stood upon bent strangely. Anyone who traveled these woods before, or who had the intellect to make an informed guess, might find that the features of the land were ultimately an analogue. Stepping over a particularly tricky ridge they would spot a flow of water, real water, flowing down a trough of parchment. This might have even been a sense of relief, if it didn't look so out-of place. "Too...early to tell!" The voice cried out, all at once sounding quite like Eira. So much so that a relative stranger like Sangrei might not even be able to tell the difference. In the distance they might hear something akin to the tick of a clock...shortly before it washed over them at incredibly volume, enough to shake the ground they stood upon and bend the canvas trees slightly from its sheer force. Then, the sun arched through the air, disappearing behind the horizon as a crescent moon made of white paper arched upwards opposite, reaching the distant spot where the sun had been moments before. The light was gone. Pitch blackness overcame the land on which they stood. Then: Music. It likely wasn't much louder than a piano being played nearby, or than a music box in one's hands and yet in the absence of visual stimuli it was almost deafening. It was dangerous. Not, however, more dangerous that the sound of footsteps. A pitter-patter that solidified what they likely already knew: They weren't alone. For Eira, it was a noise from the void of blackness they seemed stuck in. A giggle of child's laughter here, a mutter of unintelligible growling there. Then, not far from Eira: A voice. Sangrei's voice. Maybe she knew Sangrei was on the opposite side of her. Maybe she didn't. "Oh, jeez, what's all this now? Lemme give ya a hand, we can talk after."
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on Jan 20, 2018 14:53:31 GMT -8
The mimicry voice of his female companion almost threw Sangrei off, if it weren't for the fact that he was quite certain that she was next to him and that these were simply echoes of their previous words. He braced himself and winced as the impressive boom of a ticking noise washed across them, but continued forward. Not that he was walking towards anywhere defined, but there certainly wasn't a solution in standing around, and eventually the semi-hostile force would have to reveal itself in some way.
As the picturesque night struck, the man froze, shivers down his spine. Not that it was anything new, the anticipation with no action was setting him on edge, and eventually he would have to let his guard down or go insane. It didn't help that the eerie yet overwhelming tune of a music had suddenly began. In the darkness, his left eye could make out the blurry features of Eira next to him. He gripped his sword tighter, hearing the noises which didn't belong and were definitely not music, then loosened it again to calm his nerves in preparation for a fight.
Hearing his own voice clearly was very unsettling, and he would have swung in the direction if he had less discipline than he did. Knowing that their voices were being used, he chose his words carefully and spoke them quietly and slowly to give Eira time to react. "Not sure if you can see in the dark. I'm to your right, not your left. Grabbing you right now." With his words' timing, he reached out and grasped at her wrist firmly, just to avoid losing her in the dark.
Jerking his head around, he tried to catch a glimpse of whatever was creating the commotion around them, but couldn't make out anything in the darkness. "Tch."
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Jan 21, 2018 17:13:52 GMT -8
Eira fidgeted when her wrist was grabbed, but she didn't pull away. Though the darkness didn't frighten her, it did make this more difficult. She really couldn't tell if it was Sangrei who had given her his hand, but she was certain that this entity wasn't throwing out lines it had not heard before just yet. She decided to trust that it was Sangrei for now.
"Sangrei," she said, looking around for anything she might be able to make out. "I can't see you, but you found me. I'm guessing you can see. What's around us? Can you tell me? This music is muddling my brain."
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City of Whispers
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Player's online availability : Tag me and I shall arrive. You can also tag Thorny Boy on Discord.
Registered: Nov 22, 2017 19:15:32 GMT -8
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Post by City of Whispers on Jan 21, 2018 18:13:15 GMT -8
When Sangrei grasped Eira's wrist, the creature, in whatever form it may take, snarled from the depths of the forest. Then, one by one, stars began to appear. Little dots swirling into existence as if being painted before their eyes as the world got lighter and lighter. Eventually, the dim starlight was around them, bright enough to cast a shadow yet white and cold. If one were particularly observant they might note that the stars below the moon, so far away, were partially blocked for a narrow strip leading up to the celestial body.
Even the unobservant, however, would see in the distance a hill and, atop it: A large, wooden lodge. Invitingly, spoke poured out of a chimney like cotton, moving sluggishly into the sky. It was still quite a trek, but with light to see by it was manageable. That was, if they were visited by their friend once again.
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on Feb 5, 2018 9:47:36 GMT -8
"Nothing," Sangrei grunted, still keeping his words to a minimum. As the sky lit up, bringing light once again, he blinked a few times to readjust his vision to the slightly clearer view surrounding them. He loosened his grip on Eira's wrist, sliding his hand down to clasp her hand instead. "Sorry if it hurt. Stay close. You see that?" he asked curtly, sounding mildly annoyed, though it was clear that it was directed towards the situation rather than her. Although the peculiarity amoung the stars did catch his eye, he couldn't be bothered to worried about it and did not want to spare the breath mentioning it either. Instead, he gave a few seconds for Eira before waving a hand in front of her to catch her attention.
He pointed at the building. "There. Probably a trap. Have to go anyway, I think. Yeah?" The sword spun around in his hand and he let it drop into a backhand grip, his arm loose but muscles still prepared to move should something try to catch them by surprise. Barring any argument, he would prepare to walk towards the lodge with the witch in tow.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Feb 5, 2018 11:27:37 GMT -8
"Of course," said Eira. "It's not giving us any choice."
She took note of the growl, but wasn't sure if it was just convenient, or reacted specifically to their contact. Eira gazed into the darkness and searched for it, but of course, she couldn't find anything. When the scenery changed, however, she aimed her eyes to the sky and furrowed her brow. What was that thing, there? It was out of place.
Observing the lodge below it, she could only tilt her head in thought.
"Sangrei I don't think we're in a painting."
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City of Whispers
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Player's online availability : Tag me and I shall arrive. You can also tag Thorny Boy on Discord.
Registered: Nov 22, 2017 19:15:32 GMT -8
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Post by City of Whispers on Feb 8, 2018 11:17:55 GMT -8
The trek towards the curious lodge wasn't as difficult as one might have expected. Indeed, it seemed almost made for them. The slopes were gentler, the trees, conveniently aside from their path. These two weren't fools, however, they knew the situation they were in. The music continued, eerily emanating from around them never too far, yet never close enough to see its source. As if sensing Sangrei's frustrations, giggles erupted around them from the treeline.
It would take them almost an hour to reach the lodge that had, at the time, seemed so very close and while the path had been clear, it hadn't been short. Fortunately for them, however, the voice had fallen silent. No longer did they hear the snarls, or the mimicry. For now, they were in silence. Complete silence, they would find. The music box had stopped abruptly, and they might find that they wish it hadn't. No matter how unnatural they may have found the noises before, what they experienced now was much more so: Silence. Not a critter stirred, no breeze rustled the distant leaves. All the ambient noise they may have taken from granted back in their rightful place was gone
Now, it seemed, the only thing they could hear was the orchestra of each other's bodies. The percussion of their heart, beating so loud as to nearly feel it cross over the boundary of their held hands. The winds of their breath, each gasp for air a maddening echo like a tornado in a cave. The brass of Sangrei's sword, every slight shift of his body causing the reforged weapon to ring softly, imperceptible in everyday, but in the silence it was like the reverberation of a church bell.
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on Feb 9, 2018 16:09:28 GMT -8
Sangrei allowed his sword to dangle as they walked to conserve energy, doing the same with Eira's hand, and letting the natural pace dictate their movements. The constant noises unnerved him still, but it was impossible for a human being to maintain tension for an extended period of time, and this was true for him despite his combat experience. He allowed his body to relax, and it was good that he did, for the walk seemed to be relatively uneventful.
As they approached the structure, his mind returned to full alertness, analyzing the nearby surroundings closely. However, the only thing he was met with was the silence. The almost intimate sounds of Eira's normative function vibrated through his ears and body, despite the only connection between them being their grip. The only response which was appropriate was a grin.
"Hey hey, now. Ya should've really considered attacking on th'way over while my guard was down, y'know? It definitely would've been better for ya, especially if you were tryna give us a scare. Now I'm ready for ya, and when ya get all quiet like this, it almost makes me think you're runnin. And, if this is a trap, I'm just gonna kick its ass and the lady and I will go on with our day," he proclaimed loudly, letting his voice boom through the emptiness. For emphasis, his sword hit the ground with a resounding thud, adding a further echo to the unnatural silence.
"We're comin in. Excuse the rudeness."
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Feb 9, 2018 16:52:11 GMT -8
That everything else was so quiet that the smallest sounds of Sangrei's person were reaching her ears scrambled Eira's thoughts. She closed her eyes and let Sangrei lead for a minute, focusing her energy on concentrating. Being a witch made it easier than it could have been, especially one who couldn't control magic freely or on her own. If she didn't get the spell right, who knew how long it would take to gather the right amount of magic to redo it? To preserve time and energy, it was incredibly important for her to put her best effort forth, and that meant keeping a sound mind.
Sangrei's comment made her smile and gave a welcome break in the rhythmic madness of the walk to the lodge. She opened her eyes and studied the building. She needed so much more information. What was this being trying to show them? She felt as though it was only one right now, but the medicine woman knew there was a chance she could be wrong, too.
She let Sangrei do the talking. She would be the eyes. Already, she spotted the strip that covered the stars. She wanted to go toward that, but the creature was leading them to the lodge. If this only proved as a distraction, she would tug Sangrei away swiftly.
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City of Whispers
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Player's online availability : Tag me and I shall arrive. You can also tag Thorny Boy on Discord.
Registered: Nov 22, 2017 19:15:32 GMT -8
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Post by City of Whispers on Feb 9, 2018 17:21:03 GMT -8
Peacefully sitting before them, the lodge's unique features were immediately apparent. Indeed, it seemed the home of a giant, as the handle was located near Sangrei's head. What seemed to be wood from a distance now seemed to be clay, moist and shaped only vaguely like a building. The windows were large and welcoming, but they would see nothing but darkness if they looked through them.
Then, as the stranger in the land screamed his challenge...nothing happened. No beast emerged from the trees, snarling and fuming. No powerful wizard materialized, taunting them with his magical discoveries. The only thing one may have heard, would be a pitiful whimper. Then, the handle of the door was turned. It would take a solid push to swing the paper thing open, strange as the resistance felt. As it swung clear of its warped frame, however, it opened to reveal only darkness.
The room beyond felt...hollow. As if the queer energy of this place hadn't quite arrived. Sangrei, peering through this darkness would see a small cot, the size of a child's. The room, otherwise sparse, was still massive, despite the tiny cot. Light flickered to life, as if from a candle, revealing that the bed had a definite indention. As if something invisible lie on it. Or, perhaps it had been worn in over the years.
The wall behind it, however, revealed a rather peculiar feature: The shadow of a young child, sat upwards in its bed. The wall to the left of it, the way it was facing, had a longer, lankier shadow of a kindly, smiling man. The edges were fuzzy and warm, not totally defined, but providing a sense of jolliness and good nature. Then, both frowned as another shadow appeared. Tall, much taller than the others. Its body appear one solid, slender mass, its face elongated like a beak. A wide-brimmed at sat on its head as its eyes, like all the eyes and mouths of the silhouettes, allowed light to shine through. Its own, however, were perfectly circular. It kneeled next to the bed and, standing up turned towards the man. The man and child frowned before the tall shadow disappeared, leaving them alone.
"Am I really going to die?" the voice emanated from around them. It was the voice of a child, possibly a young boy. The mouth of the boy's shadow moved in response, as if lending credence to its owner.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Feb 9, 2018 18:48:11 GMT -8
Eira gave Sangrei's hand a quick squeeze when they stepped into the lodge. Taking in their surroundings, a sense of somberness descended upon the woman. After a moment of silence, she moved toward the bed slowly, carrying Sangrei along. She looked from one of the shadows to the other, trying to make sense of which to speak to. Eventually, she just looked at the space on the bed.
The medicine woman let go of Sangrei's hand so that she could crouch in front of it, level to where her best guess the boy's eyes were with her own. "Does that frighten you?" she asked him, voice filled with the tenderness of a mother's tone. "What's your name? I'm Eira, and this is Sangrei. Did you create this place yourself? That's a lot of power you have there."
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on Feb 9, 2018 22:31:42 GMT -8
Sangrei had not been particularly angry, but he felt as though the previous statements were necessary to break the tension. Now that they were both here, wherever here was, he felt a bit silly, but in the end, you did what you had to, he supposed. Feeling Eira's motion, he calmed down a bit and followed her over to the bed, looking around the inside of the lodge inquisitively. Although he was not blessed with any particular energy, he could tell that something was a bit off about the area, aside from the shadows.
When Eira moved, he easily let her slip free to move, trusting her judgement in this case. Slowly, he sheathed his blade again, making it clear to present company that he was not hostile for now. "Uh, pleasure. Sorry 'bout the yellin', guess I was just a bit worked up about everythin."
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City of Whispers
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Player's online availability : Tag me and I shall arrive. You can also tag Thorny Boy on Discord.
Registered: Nov 22, 2017 19:15:32 GMT -8
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Post by City of Whispers on Feb 13, 2018 10:36:26 GMT -8
At the entrance of the two strangers, the shadows made no initial reaction. Indeed, it was as if they didn't even realize they were there. Their own shadows were cast along the ground, watery and indistinct in the candlelight. When Eira kneeled next to the cot, speaking to the boy, the shadow seemed startled, looking around as if trying to find the source of the voice. It didn't search for long, however, as the taller, lankier silhouette began speaking:
"I'm afraid that's what Mr. Norian said." he replied sadly, as if he hadn't heard Eira's attempt to communicate. "You won't be able to walk again, #@$%^%-" a burst of indecipherable noise filled the room at this word, before continuing normally, "-but don't worry, you can still see the world!" The boy smiled, despite the news at the other man's declaration.
"Thank you, father! But how will I see the world here?" the boy asked, seeming to forget the strange noise he'd heard before. The man stepped to the side, pulling something from the darkness as the joined wall: An easel.
"Your father is an artist, boy! I'll show you everything, just you wait! Painting, plays, puppets! You'll never go wanting for the outside again!" Then, as he exclaimed his words, he began to paint. Behind him, and image of a sun shone as he masterfully painted trees and animals, with each stroke of his brush leaving an absence of shadow to the canvas, a strange alternate to applying paint. Indeed, each stroke seemed to bring something else to life as the boy looked on in wonder. Behind them, an image of a sun seemed to change from a moon and back. Slowly, at first, as the father painted puppies, and dancing people, flowers and instruments. They leapt off the canvas, and the boy giggled and laughed as they danced disappeared. Then, the turns of the moon and sun became faster. Faster, faster, the things on the canvas were no longer puppies but dogs, baring their teeth, the dancing people an arguing couple, and flowers became thorned vines.
Faster and faster the moon and sun turned, and the father, whose shadow was at first fuzzy and warm, became defined, harsh, a beard dangled from his face as the boy covered his eyes.
"Father! Please! I'm scared! I don't want to see anymore!" he cried, his body gaunt and undefined.
"I'll show you everything, #@$%^%, everything!" the man cried out, his voice strained and manic as he painted spiders that crawled along the walls, looming over the boy, venom dropping in specks of blackness. Women, nude from the waist up had legs shaggy like a goats stepped from the canvas, laughing and jeering as the boy cowered, terrified by these terrible sights.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Feb 21, 2018 18:25:14 GMT -8
Though the violent paintings startled Eira, she swiftly got up from her position on the floor and raised her hands. "Stop!" she cried, as though her words alone could command such terrifying things around them. She looked to Sangrei, wondering how in the world he was going to use his sword on such abstract magic. She hadn't brought anything at all, save for the light within her and the Threads of Fate, which were all but useless on the fly. Still, she wasn't going to allow an innocent to be devoured.
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