A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
*Could i interact with this?*
*Course!*
*Kay! Also could we do Theren and Lore?*
Oliver watches from behind a tree, severely shaken. He clutches his staff with shaky hands and silently prays
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Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
(you have any other characters you want to use)
Gravedigger walks by her, whistling an old tune
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
I am lost with a direction I am failure and perfection Without grace, but I am tired Of walking life like it's a wire
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
*Could i interact with this?*
*Course!*
*Kay! Also could we do Theren and Lore?*
Oliver watches from behind a tree, severely shaken. He clutches his staff with shaky hands and silently prays
*I was planning on bringing back Lore on Thursday but we can do it now.*
Lore is back, missing her left arm. She walks through the markets, gathering some things.
Lillith narrows her eyes and looks up, her eyes meeting theirs.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
(you have any other characters you want to use)
Gravedigger walks by her, whistling an old tune
*I kinda wanna focus on her rn.*
She sighs and rubs her temples, suddenly a bubble of silence is wrapped around the tree circle.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
*Could i interact with this?*
*Course!*
*Kay! Also could we do Theren and Lore?*
Oliver watches from behind a tree, severely shaken. He clutches his staff with shaky hands and silently prays
*I was planning on bringing back Lore on Thursday but we can do it now.*
Lore is back, missing her left arm. She walks through the markets, gathering some things.
Lillith narrows her eyes and looks up, her eyes meeting theirs.
*Yaaay!*
Theren stares in shock. He drops his basket and rushes over to her, hugging her tightly.
The teen shrinks behind the tree, mumbling even more
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
Omori was in the forest nearby when the ritual took place, sensing a magical disturbance in that direction, and walks over to see what happened. She only arrives after all the events above have occurred, looking around for what was messing with the weather just a few minutes ago.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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)
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
*Could i interact with this?*
*Course!*
*Kay! Also could we do Theren and Lore?*
Oliver watches from behind a tree, severely shaken. He clutches his staff with shaky hands and silently prays
*I was planning on bringing back Lore on Thursday but we can do it now.*
Lore is back, missing her left arm. She walks through the markets, gathering some things.
Lillith narrows her eyes and looks up, her eyes meeting theirs.
*Yaaay!*
Theren stares in shock. He drops his basket and rushes over to her, hugging her tightly.
The teen shrinks behind the tree, mumbling even more
She yelps and pulls out her dagger but realizes who it is and hugs back as best she can.
Lillith begins to walk over, her steps near silent.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
(you have any other characters you want to use)
Gravedigger walks by her, whistling an old tune
*I kinda wanna focus on her rn.*
She sighs and rubs her temples, suddenly a bubble of silence is wrapped around the tree circle.
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
(you have any other characters you want to use)
Gravedigger walks by her, whistling an old tune
*I kinda wanna focus on her rn.*
She sighs and rubs her temples, suddenly a bubble of silence is wrapped around the tree circle.
(fine by me)
He looks at her, signing "was I bothering you?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
I am lost with a direction I am failure and perfection Without grace, but I am tired Of walking life like it's a wire
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
Omori was in the forest nearby when the ritual took place, sensing a magical disturbance in that direction, and walks over to see what happened. She only arrives after all the events above have occurred, looking around for what was messing with the weather just a few minutes ago.
Lillith rubs her temples and waves a hand, the storm clouds disappearing almost instantly.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
*Could i interact with this?*
*Course!*
*Kay! Also could we do Theren and Lore?*
Oliver watches from behind a tree, severely shaken. He clutches his staff with shaky hands and silently prays
*I was planning on bringing back Lore on Thursday but we can do it now.*
Lore is back, missing her left arm. She walks through the markets, gathering some things.
Lillith narrows her eyes and looks up, her eyes meeting theirs.
*Yaaay!*
Theren stares in shock. He drops his basket and rushes over to her, hugging her tightly.
The teen shrinks behind the tree, mumbling even more
She yelps and pulls out her dagger but realizes who it is and hugs back as best she can.
Lillith begins to walk over, her steps near silent.
Theren looks over her, gently touching her face. "Please tell me im not hallucinating..." he whispers, choked with emotion
Oliver sinks to his knees, eyes tightly shut in fear
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
*Could i interact with this?*
*Course!*
*Kay! Also could we do Theren and Lore?*
Oliver watches from behind a tree, severely shaken. He clutches his staff with shaky hands and silently prays
*I was planning on bringing back Lore on Thursday but we can do it now.*
Lore is back, missing her left arm. She walks through the markets, gathering some things.
Lillith narrows her eyes and looks up, her eyes meeting theirs.
*Yaaay!*
Theren stares in shock. He drops his basket and rushes over to her, hugging her tightly.
The teen shrinks behind the tree, mumbling even more
She yelps and pulls out her dagger but realizes who it is and hugs back as best she can.
Lillith begins to walk over, her steps near silent.
Theren looks over her, gently touching her face. "Please tell me im not hallucinating..." he whispers, choked with emotion
Oliver sinks to his knees, eyes tightly shut in fear
"You aren't?" She laughs a bit and kisses his forehead.
She watches him for a moment before laughing a bit, her voice raspy like she just woke up. "Who are you childe?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
"No thanks are necessary- I'm always happy to help a friend. Hopefully she won't give us any more trouble." She sets a hand near the jar. "Once it's all done, I can put this in a vault or something similar, if you'd like. Keep it far away from ever reaching Omori again."
She thinks for a moment, sighing a bit. "I've been doing alright. Work is still a pain in the backside in both senses of the term, but aside from that, not much has been happening for me. How have you been?"
"That ain't necessary, once it's outta Omori, I know exactly where its gonna go. I'm gonna mend the shadow back onta, myself, keep it sealed somewhere I know I can keep it." SHe gestures for them to sit down next to her, "But what 'bout ya, who's that fella yer marryin'?"
"Just been working on hunting, you should come sign up as a real monster hunter at the 8th. My buds have seen how good you are for an amateur, and outside of when they're joking about you being my girlfriend, they really think you'd be a good addition."
She sits next to her. "His name's Henry- he's a researcher of the nightmarish and a hunter of monsters. We actually first met when he butchered a few of my creations." She chuckles a bit to herself as she remembers it. "He's clever, caring... has a similar interest in studying that which shouldn't be, and making that which never should be... I love him with all my heart."
She thinks for a while, before deciding. "I think I will. I'd like to at least give being a real monster hunter a try." She decides.
She smiles and laughs, patting their shoulder "Sounds like he was made fer ya, an' I know he gotta love ya the same as ya love him. I bet the weddin' 'll be a good one too." She sighs, leaning back against the wall, "Yer a good one, KK, an' ya deserve ta be happy, if he makes ya happy, I'll make sure ta help ya if ya ever need it, just call."
He nods, patting their shoulder softly, "I can bring you to the ship if you want to sign up right now. Up to you though."
"Thank you. Everything's still in the planning stages right now, but I won't hesitate to let you know if we need anything." She responds, a smile on her face. "Thank you so much, Merabelle. You're an amazing friend."
"Sure, I'd like that. Just not too fast this time, okay?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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)
A man stands in the forest, a dazed and confused look on his face. Six cultists, dressed in body suits made of black lace that is beautifully stitched with pictures of Camilla flowers and eyes and cloaks made of soft crimson fabric. They wear masks devoid of features, painted with delicate pictures of birds.
They sit the man down in a ring of white birch trees, the man coming out of the trance as he begins to fight them a little. One of the cultists waves a hand over the man's face and he is compliant again. Another one produces a scroll from somewhere while a smaller one begins to pin up pieces of parchment with symbols on them to the trees.
The clouds above begin to roil and turn dark as the wind kicks up. Light rain begins to fall around them but not inside the circle of trees. The one holding the scroll begins to read some sort of strange language from the parchment, the others joining in. As they do, the man begins to writhe as if something is holding him down.
Suddenly, from the man's mouth, a pair of delicate hands opens his jaw from the inside. The hands wrench apart the jaw, and the bones sickly crack. A woman, nearly 8 feet tall, somehow steps out from the man's body, leaving behind a lumpy mess of skin and bones that once was a person. The blood on her body seems to change before the cultist's eyes, turning into a crimson dress with a deep V-neck that nearly reaches her navel. Her eyes open, glowing slightly as she turns to the cultists. They rush up to her but suddenly are gone without a trace as soon as she narrows her eyes. She turns her head and looks down at the body of the now deceased man, waving a hand and that too disappearing.
Omori was in the forest nearby when the ritual took place, sensing a magical disturbance in that direction, and walks over to see what happened. She only arrives after all the events above have occurred, looking around for what was messing with the weather just a few minutes ago.
Lillith rubs her temples and waves a hand, the storm clouds disappearing almost instantly.
She looks over at Lillith with awe upon seeing her nonchalantly dispel the storm in seconds, approaching a bit. "How did you do that? That was so cool!" She asks with childlike curiosity and a complete absence of fear.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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)
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*Kay! Also could we do Theren and Lore?*
Oliver watches from behind a tree, severely shaken. He clutches his staff with shaky hands and silently prays
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*I would interact, but I don't want to bog you or myself down with rps. Maybe another time.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
(you have any other characters you want to use)
Gravedigger walks by her, whistling an old tune
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
I am failure and perfection
Without grace, but I am tired
Of walking life like it's a wire
*I was planning on bringing back Lore on Thursday but we can do it now.*
Lore is back, missing her left arm. She walks through the markets, gathering some things.
Lillith narrows her eyes and looks up, her eyes meeting theirs.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
She just shivers and mutters something to herself, nuzzling more into them.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*I kinda wanna focus on her rn.*
She sighs and rubs her temples, suddenly a bubble of silence is wrapped around the tree circle.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Yaaay!*
Theren stares in shock. He drops his basket and rushes over to her, hugging her tightly.
The teen shrinks behind the tree, mumbling even more
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Omori was in the forest nearby when the ritual took place, sensing a magical disturbance in that direction, and walks over to see what happened. She only arrives after all the events above have occurred, looking around for what was messing with the weather just a few minutes ago.
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)
He lifts her chin, making her look at him. "Hey...talk to me..."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She yelps and pulls out her dagger but realizes who it is and hugs back as best she can.
Lillith begins to walk over, her steps near silent.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
(fine by me)
He looks at her, signing "was I bothering you?"
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
I am failure and perfection
Without grace, but I am tired
Of walking life like it's a wire
Lillith rubs her temples and waves a hand, the storm clouds disappearing almost instantly.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
She shakes her head "It has been... forever since I have awoken.."
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
Theren looks over her, gently touching her face. "Please tell me im not hallucinating..." he whispers, choked with emotion
Oliver sinks to his knees, eyes tightly shut in fear
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She looks into their eyes, her fear subsiding, "Past... they marked me."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"trust me, it is better than being awake for all of it"
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
I am failure and perfection
Without grace, but I am tired
Of walking life like it's a wire
"You aren't?" She laughs a bit and kisses his forehead.
She watches him for a moment before laughing a bit, her voice raspy like she just woke up. "Who are you childe?"
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
"I am not so sure but everyone has an opinion." She rolls her shoulders.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
"Thank you. Everything's still in the planning stages right now, but I won't hesitate to let you know if we need anything." She responds, a smile on her face. "Thank you so much, Merabelle. You're an amazing friend."
"Sure, I'd like that. Just not too fast this time, okay?"
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 looks over at Lillith with awe upon seeing her nonchalantly dispel the storm in seconds, approaching a bit. "How did you do that? That was so cool!" She asks with childlike curiosity and a complete absence of fear.
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)