*You don’t even have to ask, I’m glad you’re here, who you want?*
*Merabelle, John, and anyone else*
*Of course my good man.*
Merabelle is gathering firewood to keep Omori warm, unbothered by the cold, wearing what is necessary in terms of clothing but not much else, leaning into her origins as a Goliath.
John is taking a nap in one of the chairs on the porch of the Inn, tapping into his fatherly ability to fall asleep sitting straight up, and snoring like a beast.
Damian is cooking in the kitchen, getting more flashy with it with time, tossing knifes and catching them, cooking meat with fire spells, smiling wide.
Hayden is practicing her magic outside, heavily bundled up.
Rio walks over to him, holding a large wicker basket that's rattling around a lot.
Thirteen is at the bar, writing happily.
She sees them and walks over, a mountain of sticks and such on her shoulder “Now what’re ya doin’ here?”
He remains dead asleep, another ability he has seemingly mastered, his chest expanding with every snore.
Damian walks over, placing down a plate “Hey Thirteen, it’s been a while since we’ve talked hasn’t it?”
Hayden produces a burst of purple energy that, when you gaze at it, seems to fill your mind with pleasant memories from your recent past.
Rio pours seven taxidermied quasits on John's chest casually.
"It has indeed. How are you?"
She raises an eyebrow curiously “Hmm, ain’t that somethin’, I assumin’ yer makin’ a lot of progress with yer work. This is real impressive.”
He shoots awake, looking to Riotan and back to his chest “What the-“
“I am good, or at least I think I am, been dealing with a lot of darkness though. You know?”
“With all fairness the result may be similar, though I am strong enough to kill anything that may come of it.” He takes a skull from off his belt and shows it to them.
She refills their glass slowly “I would never kill anyone unless they deserved it, and from what I can tell, you don’t.” She begins sipping.
“Alright… what types of animals would be good test subjects?”
”well, thats good, I suppose. Do you want to know one downside of being a god?” He says, summoning his own glass of some goldenish liquid.
“Canines seem to have the most similar results to humanoids when consumed.” He puts the skull down nearby.
She pushes her veil from hiding her eyes, a piercing blood red “Ah, I feel I would want to know, even if I am never to meet a god ever again. Is it a crushing loneliness?”
”then we’ll use wolves or something similar. Do you know if this area has a lot of wolves?”
he chuckles. ”well, that…” he takes a sip of the golden liquid. “And I also can’t get drunk.”
“Oh of course I would know if there were, it is the art of being a Hunter. I could show you a few locations.”
“Oh, how terrible.” She gasps before taking a sip of her own wine, draining the glass slowly.
“One moment then, I’m going to talk to my acolytes, just to tell them that I’ll be gone for a bit.” She gathers her acolytes and discusses with them in a hushed tone.
“Mhmmmm… I’m just… immune to the effects of alcohol. Wooooh… it’s a blessing and a curse.”
He patiently waits, his white gloves clasped together, his shortswords glistening “Take your time. Though I may not be in control for much longer.”
“I would see that entirely as a curse, but I simply see things differently from you, don’t I?” She chuckles.
She stops and stares at him in the eyes, glaring daggers. “Mm. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I try not to see stuff like that, because if I do, i think that’d be pretty bad…” he makes a thumbs down, and then an exploding gesture with his hands.
*You don’t even have to ask, I’m glad you’re here, who you want?*
*Merabelle, John, and anyone else*
*Of course my good man.*
Merabelle is gathering firewood to keep Omori warm, unbothered by the cold, wearing what is necessary in terms of clothing but not much else, leaning into her origins as a Goliath.
John is taking a nap in one of the chairs on the porch of the Inn, tapping into his fatherly ability to fall asleep sitting straight up, and snoring like a beast.
Damian is cooking in the kitchen, getting more flashy with it with time, tossing knifes and catching them, cooking meat with fire spells, smiling wide.
Hayden is practicing her magic outside, heavily bundled up.
Rio walks over to him, holding a large wicker basket that's rattling around a lot.
Thirteen is at the bar, writing happily.
She sees them and walks over, a mountain of sticks and such on her shoulder “Now what’re ya doin’ here?”
He remains dead asleep, another ability he has seemingly mastered, his chest expanding with every snore.
Damian walks over, placing down a plate “Hey Thirteen, it’s been a while since we’ve talked hasn’t it?”
Hayden produces a burst of purple energy that, when you gaze at it, seems to fill your mind with pleasant memories from your recent past.
Rio pours seven taxidermied quasits on John's chest casually.
"It has indeed. How are you?"
She raises an eyebrow curiously “Hmm, ain’t that somethin’, I assumin’ yer makin’ a lot of progress with yer work. This is real impressive.”
He shoots awake, looking to Riotan and back to his chest “What the-“
“I am good, or at least I think I am, been dealing with a lot of darkness though. You know?”
She realizes Merabelle's there and turns to face her, smiling. "Oh, sorry, did I catch you with that one?" She looks Merabelle up and down.
The quasits begin scampering all over him, but don't attack. "I'd advise not moving unless you can kill them in one stroke."
"Oh, what's been happening?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*I'm alive, just been busy with life, and mulling some things over.*
*How about you?*
*Somewhat frustrated and sad about Felix's anticlimactic death. Other than that I'm okay I guess.*
*Oh, did I kill him accidentally with the death note? I was actually gonna come back to that. That note he wrote in was not the real death note. there was gonna be some... serious soul searching stuff between him and Omi.*
*You should have cleared that up long before the event actually occurred.*
*His skull was split open by a cart after he tripped while serving champagne at his own final supper that he set up for everyone.*
*I already decided that for him to be brought back, it's going to take more than just a spell slot. It needs to have narrative weight to it, because if his death was going to be meaningless, I don't want his resurrection to be.*
*You should have cleared that up long before the event actually occurred.*
*His skull was split open by a cart after he tripped while serving champagne at his own final supper that he set up for everyone.*
*I already decided that for him to be brought back, it's going to take more than just a spell slot. It needs to have narrative weight to it, because if his death was going to be meaningless, I don't want his resurrection to be.*
*I had planned for them to meet again, I just got busy. Sorry about that.*
*Unfortunate.*
*I understand. I'm very unhappy about it, but I understand.*
*Omi, Saphuno, and a gay character whose life is in shambles*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*[appears before you meekly]*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
She raises an eyebrow curiously “Hmm, ain’t that somethin’, I assumin’ yer makin’ a lot of progress with yer work. This is real impressive.”
He shoots awake, looking to Riotan and back to his chest “What the-“
“I am good, or at least I think I am, been dealing with a lot of darkness though. You know?”
*Nevermind, it seems crowded rn. See y'all.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*I would like to, but I don't know what characters I want to play and my new guy is nowhere near finished.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I got to go, sorry yall.*
She stops and stares at him in the eyes, glaring daggers. “Mm. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I try not to see stuff like that, because if I do, i think that’d be pretty bad…” he makes a thumbs down, and then an exploding gesture with his hands.
*Cut*
"I make them out of the parts of other, more ordinary mannequins. How they are animated... well, that's a secret. As for why... well, why not?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
She realizes Merabelle's there and turns to face her, smiling. "Oh, sorry, did I catch you with that one?" She looks Merabelle up and down.
The quasits begin scampering all over him, but don't attack. "I'd advise not moving unless you can kill them in one stroke."
"Oh, what's been happening?"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*You should have cleared that up long before the event actually occurred.*
*His skull was split open by a cart after he tripped while serving champagne at his own final supper that he set up for everyone.*
*I already decided that for him to be brought back, it's going to take more than just a spell slot. It needs to have narrative weight to it, because if his death was going to be meaningless, I don't want his resurrection to be.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*see you around dude!*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
They chuckle. ”haha, you’re funny. Do you think your mannequins would be good at scaring people?”
*I understand. I'm very unhappy about it, but I understand.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"Oh, absolutely!" She responds with a similarly cheery tone. "Their ability to instill fear is intentional!"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
“Ooh, I have to have one of those! It’d go perfect in my next project.”