Misaika
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 23
Physical Description: Standing at an average height, Misaika is a slender woman with green eyes and loose, dark auburn hair reaching just below her shoulders. Her skin is rather pale, but her features would be definitely be described as 'pretty'.
Clothes and Equipment: Misaika usually wears a pitch black robe and hood, the latter which she only seldom removes. She also carries a silver amulet with a cross shaped insignia on it which turns into a grimoire when she needs to do more advanced spells.
Registered: Feb 16, 2018 11:13:18 GMT -8
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Post by Misaika on Mar 4, 2018 23:06:57 GMT -8
Misaika looked at Datura and frowned. She wasn't very friendly that much was for sure, and it made the tea appear that less tasty. "I'll just wait for this to cool down a bit." Misaika said as an excuse not to drink it immediately. She caught a glance of the glittering powder Datura put in Elvira's cup and narrowed her eyes skeptically.
"Maybe... I could have a bit of that sweetener in my tea?" Misaika asked with an innocent voice, though in her mind she was weary about it contents. She was definitely not going to drink it, but what was it?
As Foxgloves leaned in close Misaika would lean away slightly as she raised her finger to eye level a light spell conjured from the tip of her index finger lighting through the holes in his mask. "I thank you, I will put it to good use." she said to Foxgloves offering her the eyeball. "But you seem to be in the need of some too." she concluded and mused. "And what exactly did you mean, that I was going to need it?" she pressed.
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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 Mar 5, 2018 15:19:04 GMT -8
Eira observed both Dirk and Misaika's reactions to the situation as a whole. Misaika, she decided, was also involved in magic in some way. Either that, or she was a very sharp traveler. Dirk, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. He was just a human man, very normal and not very knowledgeable in the field of the unusual. He probably wasn't very open-minded about such things, either. If anything went wrong, he would probably be the one who would need the most help in this situation. She decided to keep an eye on him.
When she took the tea, she eyed the liquid, trying to discern its contents. She closed her eyes and took a whiff, relaxing her shoulders. Though she was trying to make it look as though she was preparing to drink, she was really trying to make sure these weren't special tea leaves of any kind. After all, the woman, Datura, she didn't specify what kind of tea leaves they were. You could make tea out of anything, really.
"Smells great. Black tea? Where do you grow it?"
She seemed so calm, but she was so wary. The woman was unarmed once again. Should this be a sinister trap, there wasn't going to be an easy way out.
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Mar 5, 2018 17:37:51 GMT -8
Misaika's light would reveal nothing but more darkness behind the mask of Foxgloves, a darkness so opaque that it seemed to suck the light right off her fingertip. He let out a soft choking rattle that might have been a chuckle if there was any sort of humor behind it.
"Oh, don't you worry about me Misaika dear. I can see just fine. It would be awfully difficult to make eyes if I couldn't see, don't you think? And, well...you seem like the outdoorsy sort who's always poking about and peeking at things. I've developed quite the intuition for potential customers. Sometimes I'm right. It's become a bit of an art, really."
Meanwhile, Datura did not seem amused by Dirk's hesitation. She walked over to him, leaning in and clasping his mug-holding hand in both of hers. She squeezed his hand in her grasp, crushing it into the mug.
"Now, Mr. Fletcherson, I spent an awful long time making this tea. It'd be a real shame to waste it now, don't you agree? But I guess we could come to a compromise...I'm running low on sweetener, and I like my tea very sweet. I'm sure you can provide at least a little bit. What do you think, hmm? One sweet dream, just one, and you won't have to drink any tea."
She scooped a small spoonful of the glittering powder into Misaika's mug, where it sparkled and dissolved with the same gentle sigh.
"I told you already, it's sweet dreams. And it really is very sweet...hopefully we'll be able to get some more from our reluctant friend over here. How often do you really remember your dreams, hmm? Isn't it worth it to give up a sweet dream every now and then?"
Still glaring at Dirk, she sipped daintily at her own tea.
"Yes, it's just ordinary black tea. My brother grows it. Not Foxgloves, oh definitely not. He couldn't grow anything if his life depended on it. But Wormwood...he's got quite the green thumb. So to speak."
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Dirk Smithson
Established
Confessing
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: 32
Physical Description: Six feet and some change, heavy set, but muscular. Often wears heavy armor and uses a morningstar, but isn't overly attached to any one weapon. His face is often bruised from battle, though he's been able to keep most of his features intact.
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Clothes and Equipment: A heavy suit of armor and no weapons.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Nov 16, 2017 20:23:26 GMT -8
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Post by Dirk Smithson on Mar 6, 2018 19:54:01 GMT -8
Staring at Datura as she stalked up to him like some wildcat she flinched slightly when she put her hands atop his, forcing him to squeeze the delicate porcelain cup in his hands. However, having already been so nervous as to squeeze the cup to begin with the extra pressure could only have one effect. He started as the cup shattered between his hands, the tea dripping down through his gauntleted hands. His face went pale as the tea dripped down, trying fruitlessly to keep it contained in his hands.
Thankfully the woman had turned away to scoop powder into Misaika's mug and he looked around helplessly to see where he could dispose of his mishap. "I-I don' have dreams," he admitted, somewhat truthfully. Well, he didn't remember his dreams anyways. He didn't feel anything when he woke up either, but that suited him fine. Heading towards a bush in an attempt to hide his vandalized teacup he glanced back over his shoulder. "I, uh, I gotta take a piss 'ere."
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Misaika
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 23
Physical Description: Standing at an average height, Misaika is a slender woman with green eyes and loose, dark auburn hair reaching just below her shoulders. Her skin is rather pale, but her features would be definitely be described as 'pretty'.
Clothes and Equipment: Misaika usually wears a pitch black robe and hood, the latter which she only seldom removes. She also carries a silver amulet with a cross shaped insignia on it which turns into a grimoire when she needs to do more advanced spells.
Registered: Feb 16, 2018 11:13:18 GMT -8
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Post by Misaika on Mar 7, 2018 10:28:28 GMT -8
"So you make these yourself?" Misaika asked referring to the eyeballs. "You sure you haven't... taken a few the travelers who passed by?" she asked Foxgloves before he moved on. To her disappointment there wasn't much to see behind his mask, but then again a deep darkness akin to a void did tell her a few things too.
Misaika looked skeptically at Datura as she held her tea, which was now sweetened with 'dreams' apparently. "I dunno, maybe those dreams ad a little sweetness to our own life. But how exactly.. do you extract those dreams? I'm curious?" Misaika asked and gave Dirk a sidelong glance. "I'm sorry about your tea." she said and handed Dirk her own tea.
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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 Mar 7, 2018 22:16:41 GMT -8
Eira observed Dirk with an ever-growing anxiety. She wasn't sure if it was the way he bumbled around or if it was because he was so frightened, but she felt pity towards him. It was like watching a puppy walk into a busy street.
As to draw attention away from the man, Eira took a sip of her tea. Loudly. She stared at Datura, lifting her eyebrows. "Yes, actually, that topic does interest me, too. How do you extract those dreams?"
She had the feeling that she was going to regret drinking the tea. Regrets came later. She would have to deal with things as they came.
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Mar 9, 2018 10:53:06 GMT -8
Foxgloves shook his head, causing the odd two-pointed hood to flop and sway. He reached into his coat, his arm sinking elbow-deep into a pocket that couldn't possibly hold more than a small plum, and pulled out a handful of similarly well-crafted glass eyeballs. He held them towards Misaika to look at, and she'd find that they all seemed to glitter and glow as though they were alive.
"I make all of my own...but I'm afraid I have little creativity. I only ever make them based on other, real ones. I would never steal an eye, though. All the ones I acquire are from willing parties. Sometimes I buy them, other times I trade or offer favors. I'm quite talented, you know. If you ever lose a limb or appendage, or need something new...please let me know. I have quite an array of spares, you know. Even some that people might find...uncouth. Still, it's good money. Do you know how many people want to make something bigger, or smaller, or anything like that? I have all sorts of replacement parts, available for sale with a small installation fee."
Seeing her pass her mug off to Dirk, he reached out and picked the mug out of the hapless knight's hand. He lifted it to the mouth of his mask and poured it in, producing a soft gurgle as if he were pouring the tea into a deep empty well. Datura didn't seem to notice the mug being passed off, and cast a severe glare at Eira as she drank her tea. Eira, meanwhile, would find it to be blissfully sweet. A warm, soothing sensation would flow from her mouth through her whole body, giving an incredible sense of satisfaction and comfort.
"Must you slurp so? It's very loud. In any case, it's a very simple process to extract a dream. It just takes a little practice, you know? All it takes is a kiss. Would you like to see? I can try to get one out of Mr. Fletcherson here, see if what he has to say about not dreaming is true."
She stepped abruptly over towards Dirk, planting a hand on his chest and giving him a sharp shove backwards. Dirk would find Foxgloves' leg behind his, likely causing him to fall heavily onto his back. If he did indeed fall, he'd find Datura kneeling beside him, bending down towards his lips.
"Just a kiss, and that's all it'll take. Doesn't hurt a bit..."
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Dirk Smithson
Established
Confessing
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: 32
Physical Description: Six feet and some change, heavy set, but muscular. Often wears heavy armor and uses a morningstar, but isn't overly attached to any one weapon. His face is often bruised from battle, though he's been able to keep most of his features intact.
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Clothes and Equipment: A heavy suit of armor and no weapons.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Nov 16, 2017 20:23:26 GMT -8
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Post by Dirk Smithson on Mar 9, 2018 11:18:02 GMT -8
Oh, great, more tea. Dirk mumbled what could have been a thank you as he glanced at Misaika, his excuse to escape dashed. When Foxgloves took his tea, Dirk was seized with a moment of relief to be relieved of his burden which was quickly replaced by a rather uncanny terror as the strange creature drank it in so inhuman a fashion. Already he had begun to back up, although that hardly could have distracted him from the truly terrifying prospect that was Datura's next suggestion.
"K-kiss?" he parroted, looking at Datura in mingled horror and confusion. He opened his mouth to protest as she marched up to him but, with the sudden shove, his armored body was too unbalanced and as he slid his foot backwards to catch himself he met resistance, sending him topping backwards with a rattle of armor that made him sound like a cacophony of pots and pans.
He stared up at the sky between the boughs of the trees, brow furrowing as he struggled to sit up but then, suddenly this woman was above him. Lowering herself, his eyes growing wider in proportion to the distance closed.
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Misaika
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 23
Physical Description: Standing at an average height, Misaika is a slender woman with green eyes and loose, dark auburn hair reaching just below her shoulders. Her skin is rather pale, but her features would be definitely be described as 'pretty'.
Clothes and Equipment: Misaika usually wears a pitch black robe and hood, the latter which she only seldom removes. She also carries a silver amulet with a cross shaped insignia on it which turns into a grimoire when she needs to do more advanced spells.
Registered: Feb 16, 2018 11:13:18 GMT -8
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Post by Misaika on Mar 9, 2018 14:01:35 GMT -8
Misaika nodded politely and smiled faintly as she doubted every word that came from Foxgloves' mouth about how people would willingly donate their eyes to him for that cause. "How quaint." she said as Foxgloves showed her the eyes and she nodded again to feign interest. "I think I have the right proportions thank you." Misaika said, wondering if he was actually calling her 'fat' in a very subtle way.
Misaika was kinda looking forward to seeing if Dirk was going to drink it and what would happen, though the cup was being snatched away by Foxgloves who... kind of absorbed it the way Misaika interpreted it. "Where does it go if you don't have organs?" she asked him, though she only assumed he didn't have organs since he didn't have eyes. Or at least not his own eyes...
It seemed things were happening quickly here, and she noticed that the woman - Eira - had taken a sip of her sweetened tea and Misaika would keep half an eye on Eira to see how things might unfold. But as Datura shoved Dirk and attempted to kiss him Misaika would step over to Datura and place her hand on her shoulder. "I think our curiosity has been sated. That's quite enough." she said. Misaika didn't want to see the guy getting seriously harmed - even if it was something as abstract as a sweet dream.
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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 Mar 12, 2018 8:41:15 GMT -8
Blast, thought Eira after she sipped her tea. She really thought she would start to bring more attention to herself. Not only that but the feeling that washed over her, like waking up next to someone you loved. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips, nearly surprising her.
The witch tried to get a grip on herself as she watched the events unfold. They didn't seem real. Worse, she didn't seem to mind them, as horrifying as they were. She attempted to will herself into action, attempting to fight the urge to otherwise sit there and watch. "What... happens when our dreams are taken?" she asked.
If Datura wanted dreams, then oh, Eira had plenty. She just needed to know what she would be trading for it.
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Mar 12, 2018 18:00:09 GMT -8
Datura paused, lips only inches away from Dirk's face. She fixed the man with a cold stare, hair hanging down and brushing against his face, before sitting up and letting out an annoyed sigh. She slapped Misaika's hand away from her shoulder, stepping away from the man on the ground and sitting down sulkily on the stump that Foxgloves had occupied previously. Foxgloves shook his head, letting out another soft choking chuckle.
"Now now, Datura. Don't be too disappointed, we have plenty of dreams leftover. Remember, you got some from that man whose child's arm I replaced? We won't run out any time soon, don't you worry. And Misaika dear, don't you worry. I've got lots of organs. Plenty of them! I'm sure the tea has to go somewhere, doesn't it? Everything has to go somewhere, nothing can go nowhere."
He reached into his coat once more, producing an odd squishy noise as he rummaged about. After much wet squelching, he pulled a dripping, reddish blob from his pocket and held it out.
"See? Here's one right here. I've got enough to go around, and I'm sure there's enough to drink tea."
Datura sighed, shaking her head and waving her hand disdainfully towards him.
"Put that away, Foxgloves. Nobody wants to see any squishy bits. You're getting goo everywhere."
Turning to Eira, she sipped at her tea and spooned another scoop of glittering dreams into her mug.
"Why, it's no harm at all. Just a few nights without a sweet dream. Perhaps it's peaceful. I wouldn't know, myself. It doesn't have any lasting effects, don't you worry. Why do you ask, hmm? Do you know anyone who's had their dreams taken from them?"
At the very edges of their hearing, the trio would hear a low hum, like that of some sort of massive stringed instrument. Datura and Foxgloves didn't seem to notice, or if they did, they didn't react.
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Dirk Smithson
Established
Confessing
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: 32
Physical Description: Six feet and some change, heavy set, but muscular. Often wears heavy armor and uses a morningstar, but isn't overly attached to any one weapon. His face is often bruised from battle, though he's been able to keep most of his features intact.
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Clothes and Equipment: A heavy suit of armor and no weapons.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Nov 16, 2017 20:23:26 GMT -8
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Post by Dirk Smithson on Mar 14, 2018 9:43:57 GMT -8
As Dirk stared up at Datura, her hair brushing his face, he blushed, reaching up to physically cover his mouth when she straightened up, dissuaded from her current course by Misaika. Rolling with some effort he got to his hands and knees, situating his legs beneath him and pushing himself to his feet once more while brushing off the loose soil that clung to him. That was it! He had tried to help these two leave, but they seemed quite in their element. He, however, was not! He had to get out of here before he got kissed or chopped up or his eyes stolen or whatever very concerning conclusions this meeting might have.
Still, it seemed wrong to leave these two women to their fates, even if they seemed better equipped to handle this than he did. Perhaps he-
"Put that away, Foxgloves. Nobody wants to see any squishy bits. You're getting goo everywhere."
Dirk's eye was drawn quickly to what Datura complained about, and with that he turned on his heel with barely a glance backwards and ran. At least, he tried to.
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Misaika
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 23
Physical Description: Standing at an average height, Misaika is a slender woman with green eyes and loose, dark auburn hair reaching just below her shoulders. Her skin is rather pale, but her features would be definitely be described as 'pretty'.
Clothes and Equipment: Misaika usually wears a pitch black robe and hood, the latter which she only seldom removes. She also carries a silver amulet with a cross shaped insignia on it which turns into a grimoire when she needs to do more advanced spells.
Registered: Feb 16, 2018 11:13:18 GMT -8
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Post by Misaika on Mar 14, 2018 12:15:36 GMT -8
Misaika frowned slightly from the rude rejection Datura offered her. She sure wasn't too pleased not getting what she wanted.
"Hey you, wait a moment!" Misaika called out towards Dirk. "Come on, you can't just... pull your 'thing' out like that." Misaika said to Foxgloves and shielded her eyes with her hand, unable to really determine exactly what kinda of organ he had showed them.
"You should apologize to that man. Both of you!" Misaika finally said and crossed her arms with a frown. "You're being very rude hosts forcing tea into people's throats and... well forcing yourself upon them!" she said and gave Datura a sharp glare. This was turning into a circus she thought and right now there was little to keep her interest and she thought that someone should have told them off a long time ago.
But right then Misaika heard the sound of a low pitched hum. Was that some kind of bass string instrument? Misaika had little interest in music in general, but it had to mean that someone else was close by - and probably one of their accomplices.
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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 Mar 15, 2018 12:42:22 GMT -8
No. Wait. Stop.
Eira watched Dirk turn tail and run for it. She had a feeling he wasn't going to get far but she didn't really care to actually tell him to stop. Nothing was really affecting her so badly. No matter what she did, she couldn't bring herself to panic. It wasn't just the sweet dreams, either. She knew this: her personality was to be agreeable anyway. Organs didn't deter her normally: as a medicine woman, it was something she dealt with on the regular.
This is so bad, she thought comfortably. She did have to beam at Misaika, however, for telling the two off. Eira wondered briefly if she was more powerful than she was letting on.
When the low hum came, she reacted in much the same was as Foxgloves and Datura did, without much notice. She was concentrated on this eerie, bow-headed woman now.
"What will I get for it, if I give you some?"
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Mar 15, 2018 21:43:05 GMT -8
Datura gave a disdainful sniff as "Frank Fletcher" ran off, giving a dismissive flap of the hand at his retreating figure. When Misaika told her off, she let out a soft tsk, pouting slightly and crossing her arms as she sat on the stump. "Oh, don't you worry. He'll be back soon. And why should I apologize? He himself said that he didn't have any dreams, so he wouldn't have missed any that I'd have taken. And he was very rude, not drinking the tea that I made for him. What a horrible man. He ought to apologize to me!" Foxgloves sighed at his sister's behavior, shaking his head. She whipped around towards him and he flinched, and she sat back down. When Eira mentioned giving up some of her own dreams, the woman brightened up considerably. She sat up straight, smiling and adjusting the bow in her hair. "Why...any manner of things, Eira dear. Favors, usually. Replacement, mending, enhancement. Would you like a different eye color? Golden hair? Fuller lips? All of these things can be arranged. If not something for your body...well, there's other things, too. Gold, although that's a bit dull. I believe we have a few charms. I might have a crystal ball lying around that I could be willing to part with...oh, do you lose things often? Maybe this would be worth some dreams." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small white ring engraved with an intricate twisting design. "How about this, hmm? It's enchanted, it helps you find things that you've lost. If you misplace things a lot, or have things stolen often, this could help." She tossed it to Eira to allow her to inspect it. It seemed to be made of some sort of ivory, and the pattern was carved without a single scratch out of place. "It will twitch in the direction of what you've lost, and will vibrate if you're pointing towards it. If you have a gold coin or something, just toss it into the woods and try it out." Foxgloves, meanwhile, shoved the squishy organ into the mouth of his mask, where it vanished with a soft plop. Wiping the reddish liquid from his mask with a sleeve, he glanced around towards the odd humming drone. "Well now...looks like Wormwood will be coming back soon. And I bet he'll be bringing our Mr. Frank Fletcherson back to us." Meanwhile, Dirk fled through the woods. The man would find that the trees seemed to close in on him, branches smacking him in the face and roots tripping him up as he ran. As he fled, the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears would slowly be overcome by an odd, droning hum. The drone would become louder and louder, growing in intensity until he could hear nothing else, not even his own footsteps. Just as the hum became painfully loud, it stopped abruptly. In the sudden silence, Dirk would hear a soft whoosh as an odd figure appeared from the shadows. It was covered entirely in a heavy, yellowish robe that hid its appearance from head to toe. It floated above the ground, robe billowing as it drifted towards Dirk. When it spoke, its unfathomably deep voice echoed and reverberated as though it were speaking in a confined cave, even though they were outdoors. " Well now...what have we here. You look worried, child. Did those two frighten you? I apologize. They can be a bit off-putting at times."
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Dirk Smithson
Established
Confessing
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: 32
Physical Description: Six feet and some change, heavy set, but muscular. Often wears heavy armor and uses a morningstar, but isn't overly attached to any one weapon. His face is often bruised from battle, though he's been able to keep most of his features intact.
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Clothes and Equipment: A heavy suit of armor and no weapons.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Nov 16, 2017 20:23:26 GMT -8
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Post by Dirk Smithson on Mar 19, 2018 18:37:26 GMT -8
Dirk's feet practically skidded across the ground when this new, overwhelming figure appeared. In fact, had he been on stone, his heels may very well be smoking! If this...thing sought to comfort him, it would be sorely disappointed. The man stood, staring at the majestic creature that had revealed itself in so terrifying a fashion. Surely this was an angel, or perhaps a demon! He wanted to run back, for he would have gladly kissed Datura a thousand times over, and given his organs to Foxgloves by the fistful when he contemplated the fresh new horrors this thing must wrought.
Yet he found his legs would not move. His knees knocked as his legs shook with potential energy he couldn't force himself to exploit. His whole body in fact, rattled as he shivered under this thing's eye. Even replying to its assurances was an impossibility, as his tongue felt like lead and his mouth felt filled with sawdust.
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Misaika
Established
Roleplay posts: 39
Age: 23
Physical Description: Standing at an average height, Misaika is a slender woman with green eyes and loose, dark auburn hair reaching just below her shoulders. Her skin is rather pale, but her features would be definitely be described as 'pretty'.
Clothes and Equipment: Misaika usually wears a pitch black robe and hood, the latter which she only seldom removes. She also carries a silver amulet with a cross shaped insignia on it which turns into a grimoire when she needs to do more advanced spells.
Registered: Feb 16, 2018 11:13:18 GMT -8
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Post by Misaika on Mar 20, 2018 3:51:32 GMT -8
Misaika rolled her eyes. No amount of reason seemed to be able to convince Datura that she was being... well... a bitch. But then again she was most likely not a normal human being, and Misaika wanted to know who or 'what' they were actually talking to. She strolled over besides Eira and held up her palm towards Datura as a faint, ice blue light started illuminating Datura's face.
"What do you see?" she asked Eira, as her light based scrying technique would reveal the true face of anyone having taken the form of something or someone else than their original appearance. Also the hue of the light that struck would reflect the 'darkness' of their heart, where white being extremely benevolent and black would be akin to a demon. If Eira may be surprised by Misaika's surprisingly relaxed attitude towards these abominations, it was mostly because she was 'accustomed' to entities that weren't exactly benevolent.
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Post by Strangers and Travelers on Mar 26, 2018 10:03:38 GMT -8
The hooded being floated closer to the terrified Dirk, cloak billowing despite the stillness of the air. A light began to shine under its hood, making it impossible to see its face...if it indeed had a face. It spoke again, its booming voice audible even over the sound of Dirk's chattering teeth.
"Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm. You are of no consequence to me, no danger to my life. Why would I try to hurt you? What has gotten you so worried, small one? You look so frightened. Come with me. You seem lost."
It floated down, the opening of its hood mere inches from Dirk's face. The light was blinding, an icy cold beam that hurt Dirk's eyes and stung his face. Still, despite the discomfort, it didn't seem to do any lasting damage. After a moment's scrutiny, it began to drift back. Dirk would feel a gentle but steady force pushing him forward, towards the being. It wouldn't be hard to break out of and run off, but it was definitely noticeable.
Meanwhile, Misaika's light would shine down on Datura's face. The woman blinked in the light, which cast an eerie dark hue over her face, as though it was shrouded in shadow. The bow vanished under the light, and the pretty black curls fell straight and flat. Her face changed, pouty red lips turning thin and pale. Her golden-brown eyes were revealed to be completely black in the light, squinting in confusion at Misaika. Meanwhile, Foxgloves noticed what Misaika was doing and let out a soft chuckle.
"Careful there, Miss Misaika. She won't like that if she finds out."
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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 Mar 27, 2018 21:28:01 GMT -8
Eira narrowed her eyes as Misaika cast a light on Datura's face. "A darkness," she replied, scanning the face of the woman before them. "And something inhuman. Demonic."
Feeling uneasy even through the effects of the Sweet Dreams in her tea, the witch reached deep within her and summoned the Strings of Fate, a little-known that had been passed down from her mother onto her. It was the only magic she could manipulate without help, and even then it was because the Strings were also an item and not her own true source of magic. Those who were sensitive to such things might have seen the strings that spiraled out from within her, lashing out from her heart, where the item was hidden. The witch's eyes darted around, looking for good candidates for "unfortunate incidents." She only hoped Misaika could also hold her own, and that the armored man wasn't already dead.
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Dirk Smithson
Established
Confessing
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: 32
Physical Description: Six feet and some change, heavy set, but muscular. Often wears heavy armor and uses a morningstar, but isn't overly attached to any one weapon. His face is often bruised from battle, though he's been able to keep most of his features intact.
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Clothes and Equipment: A heavy suit of armor and no weapons.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Nov 16, 2017 20:23:26 GMT -8
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Post by Dirk Smithson on Apr 2, 2018 12:30:26 GMT -8
As this strange apparition hovered close to his face, looming over him he squeezed his eyes tightly shut in anticipation for whatever ungodly horrors it may bring down upon him. His face stung as though from sunburn and even through his closed eyes he witnessed the light. It was as if he had turned his face up to the sun but he felt no warmth. When it drifted away he slowly peeked with one eye, trying to get a look at the creature before quite suddenly with a lurch he took a step forward. Wh-what was he doing? He didn't want to get closer to this thing! And yet...he couldn't seem to stop. Stepping up to the creature he stared at it with no small amount of horror. The will he could muster to break the spell had been sundered by his experiences and with the understanding that fighting the creature would surely mean a more violent death than obeying its instructions.
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