After a bit, he steps back, looking at their handiwork. "Nice job. Don't think I caught your name. I'm Porter, an Exorcist for the NEO."
The waves begin to thrash and gnash and crash, the corpses begin to beg and whisper details about the night she never knew, and echoes of the past appear around her, haunting the Beach. Her fingertips turn into corkscrews with a mirror finish, growing transparent at the very ends.
"Omori. Nice to meet ya, Porter." She responds, looking back at the portal.
She looks down at her hands, equally shocked and curious. "What the..." She smiles a bit. "Well ain't that interesting..." She mutters to herself, laughing.
"You too, Omori." He stares at it with her. "I'm not actually qualified to attempt a closure. That tape is basically fly paper for Nightmares, though, so we should be... fine. Not much better or worse than that."
"It's fun, isn't it? All the horrors in the world at your disposal..." He starts dancing again, the bodies moaning in pain beneath him. "And none of them can do a thing about it."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Hello." He says softly. "My name is Baegoji, and this is Oris." He gestures to the 8ft-long cat-snake creature that seems to be interested in the cuts of humanoid flesh behind the glass. "We were wondering if you would be capable of supplying large amounts of meat. My students need a lot of protein to maintain their capabilities."
He lifts up the head, looking at it. "He was alive a minute ago." He drops it. "I was excited to show him to you."
"Students?" She questions, still kinda staring at the snake-cat but her eyes dart back to them "How many are we talking?"
Angel nods and picks up the head. Blueish-silvery magical energy seems to spring forth from their fingertips and into the head, like smoke being inhaled. The heads eyes flutter open suddenly, the nose and mouth begin to follow suit, waking up from beyond the grave.
"Fourteen men. They train hard. They want to become soldiers for my cause. Normally I'd be loathe to use slaughtered animals, but the artificial meat I normally use is far too limited for my needs. Besides, it's already dead now, isn't it?" He chuckles softly, then turns to Oris. "Oh, looks like they've already decided on what they want for their treat."
The head's eyes are pitch black, and it attempts to bite Angel until it sees Stigmata. It wheezes and hisses, but not in a hostile manner. "He's not very good... but he's family, isn't he?"
"A treat?" she asks, walking over to where Oris stares into the glass and at the cuts of long pig. She crouches down, staring at it as well, "You want that?" she asks them.
"Family to you?" Angel asks, giving the head back to Stigmata.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
He raises an eyebrow, reaching farther down with his hand, “If you want to, dear, I’m certainly not opposed.”
She looks over to them before nodding, going back to the library to get the microscope.
She shrinks away from their raised voice, making a nearly inaudible noise as she looks back down at the ground, “Y-yes sir… okay…” She takes what he said as if it were an order.
(PM?)
When she returns, he gets prepared.
His voice was only slightly louder than speaking volume, but still a signifiicant moment. he sniffles, patting their head with a pad. "I'm sorry.. I was, and knew people, in a similar situation.. it hurts me to see it.."
*If you want to, sure. Want anyone else?*
She sets down the microscope, giving them all the time they need, pulling out a syringe for extracting the blood.
She shivers once again at their touch, leaning a bit away from them now, closing her eyes as she quivers, muttering something to herself as she wraps herself tightly back up in the clothes.
Time has put up a temporary shelf, and is organizing some hour glasses by length remaining
Dew is in his massage clinic, waiting for customers.
Aokiji is deep in thought, in a meditative pose. His jingasa rests in his lap
*where's time at?*
Loriche knocks on the door.
Riotan is leaning over him to be an annoyance, debating whether or not he should do any manual decapitation.
*just in the library*
It opens into an open waiting room, and to Dew sitting behind a desk. "Welcome in!" he smiles
The air around him is hot and thick. "You are quite a nuisance."
Thirteen enters, carrying a pile of tomes and scrolls.
"Hi! I made something that might be useful for you."
"I've been told." He grins.
"Hello, scholarly one." she says, holding his lifespan in the form of an hourglass. "You're quite healthy."
"Oh, Loriche! good to see you again!" he smiles
"A handsome one, but I digress. I'm rather busy here." he grumbles
"Kind of you to say. I presume that's to do with my age dissonance?"
She holds out a small wrapped parcel for him. "Good to see you too!"
"Your temptations are flattering, but I'm engaged."
"You'll live for a while. Indeed, this is your lifespan." she says, observing it a bit more
he takes it gingerly, opening it. "So, how've you been?"
"Bonds will always break. Like my concentration has." he sighs, putting his jingasa on his head.
“…pardon?”
Inside is a small glass charm shaped like a ram in profile, hanging from a small string that loops through the circle of the ram’s horn. “Oh, same as usual. You?”
“Maybe. Who are either of us to say?” He shrugs, starting to pace around you.
"Sorry. I'm Mistress Time, and this represents your lifespan."
"This is wonderful. what does it do? Oh, I'm fine."
"I speak from experience." his eyes trail Rio, and he feels several others on him. "I am the last Ronin of my people, the final Shogun."
Thirteen turns around quickly. “I don’t want to know then. That would ruin the time I have left.”
“If you apply it to areas that you’re going to work on, it won’t cause unnecessary pain.”
“After a billion years or so, stuff like that gets old.”
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.
Misha watches from afar, her eyes wide in fear but also hunger. She grips her blade before slowly sliding it back in the sheath.
He pulls the sword out of the man's chest, watching the blood spill as he drops to the ground. He then begins hacking violently, leaning on his sword as bile begins leaking from under his helmet.
She steps forward again, moving closer and closer like a cat sneaking up on prey.
He doesn’t notice them, the bile continuing to flow, burning into the ground like acid, the box slowly fading from his attire and weapon back to silver.
She is right near him at this point, mere feet from his being. She gently reaches out and touches his shoulder.
The moment they make contact, he reaching up with lightning speed, his hand wrapping around her wrist with crushing strength before he sees its Misha, stopping himself.
Time has put up a temporary shelf, and is organizing some hour glasses by length remaining
Dew is in his massage clinic, waiting for customers.
Aokiji is deep in thought, in a meditative pose. His jingasa rests in his lap
*where's time at?*
Loriche knocks on the door.
Riotan is leaning over him to be an annoyance, debating whether or not he should do any manual decapitation.
*just in the library*
It opens into an open waiting room, and to Dew sitting behind a desk. "Welcome in!" he smiles
The air around him is hot and thick. "You are quite a nuisance."
Thirteen enters, carrying a pile of tomes and scrolls.
"Hi! I made something that might be useful for you."
"I've been told." He grins.
"Hello, scholarly one." she says, holding his lifespan in the form of an hourglass. "You're quite healthy."
"Oh, Loriche! good to see you again!" he smiles
"A handsome one, but I digress. I'm rather busy here." he grumbles
"Kind of you to say. I presume that's to do with my age dissonance?"
She holds out a small wrapped parcel for him. "Good to see you too!"
"Your temptations are flattering, but I'm engaged."
"You'll live for a while. Indeed, this is your lifespan." she says, observing it a bit more
he takes it gingerly, opening it. "So, how've you been?"
"Bonds will always break. Like my concentration has." he sighs, putting his jingasa on his head.
“…pardon?”
Inside is a small glass charm shaped like a ram in profile, hanging from a small string that loops through the circle of the ram’s horn. “Oh, same as usual. You?”
“Maybe. Who are either of us to say?” He shrugs, starting to pace around you.
"Sorry. I'm Mistress Time, and this represents your lifespan."
"This is wonderful. what does it do? Oh, I'm fine."
"I speak from experience." his eyes trail Rio, and he feels several others on him. "I am the last Ronin of my people, the final Shogun."
Thirteen turns around quickly. “I don’t want to know then. That would ruin the time I have left.”
“If you apply it to areas that you’re going to work on, it won’t cause unnecessary pain.”
“After a billion years or so, stuff like that gets old.”
*sorry*
She tucks it away. "I've read your books, they're wonderful"
"Ahh, thank you so much!"
"Well its my story. What do you want?" he asks, a bit annoyed.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
"Like a gold bar or a fine wine. Pleasant, but not immediately useful to me. But I keep them around nevertheless. You are a stained-glass window in an ancient church, or a painting by a master. Like any civilian, you are better cared for and protected than thrown out into the front lines."
"Your words are pretty and flattering." he coughs to stifle a blush. "I understand now." he bows slightly
He smiles as Oris slides into his lap. "I'm glad." He pours a cup of tea for Aokiji. "I try to be honest with people that I like. Because if you spend time with someone, they will find out that you lied. I isolated myself for centuries in the study of diplomacy, and I have to say I'm much better at misinformation. But diplomacy is much more important a skill in peacetime."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Misha watches from afar, her eyes wide in fear but also hunger. She grips her blade before slowly sliding it back in the sheath.
He pulls the sword out of the man's chest, watching the blood spill as he drops to the ground. He then begins hacking violently, leaning on his sword as bile begins leaking from under his helmet.
She steps forward again, moving closer and closer like a cat sneaking up on prey.
He doesn’t notice them, the bile continuing to flow, burning into the ground like acid, the box slowly fading from his attire and weapon back to silver.
She is right near him at this point, mere feet from his being. She gently reaches out and touches his shoulder.
The moment they make contact, he reaching up with lightning speed, his hand wrapping around her wrist with crushing strength before he sees its Misha, stopping himself.
When he pulls away, he finds her wrist has been crushed like porcelain, yet she doesn't seem to cry, scream, anything resembling pain She just watches her own limp wrist flop over like a wet fish.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
"Like a gold bar or a fine wine. Pleasant, but not immediately useful to me. But I keep them around nevertheless. You are a stained-glass window in an ancient church, or a painting by a master. Like any civilian, you are better cared for and protected than thrown out into the front lines."
"Your words are pretty and flattering." he coughs to stifle a blush. "I understand now." he bows slightly
He smiles as Oris slides into his lap. "I'm glad." He pours a cup of tea for Aokiji. "I try to be honest with people that I like. Because if you spend time with someone, they will find out that you lied. I isolated myself for centuries in the study of diplomacy, and I have to say I'm much better at misinformation. But diplomacy is much more important a skill in peacetime."
He takes it, letting it steep and warm his paws. "Well, I will be honest as well. I enjoy your presence, your mannerisms remind me of my own people, and our similar deities helps that as well."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
After a bit, he steps back, looking at their handiwork. "Nice job. Don't think I caught your name. I'm Porter, an Exorcist for the NEO."
The waves begin to thrash and gnash and crash, the corpses begin to beg and whisper details about the night she never knew, and echoes of the past appear around her, haunting the Beach. Her fingertips turn into corkscrews with a mirror finish, growing transparent at the very ends.
"Omori. Nice to meet ya, Porter." She responds, looking back at the portal.
She looks down at her hands, equally shocked and curious. "What the..." She smiles a bit. "Well ain't that interesting..." She mutters to herself, laughing.
"You too, Omori." He stares at it with her. "I'm not actually qualified to attempt a closure. That tape is basically fly paper for Nightmares, though, so we should be... fine. Not much better or worse than that."
"It's fun, isn't it? All the horrors in the world at your disposal..." He starts dancing again, the bodies moaning in pain beneath him. "And none of them can do a thing about it."
"That's good- I don't think this place needs to get any scarier anytime soon." She says, shivering at the thought.
"All the horrors in the world..." She repeats to herself, walking over towards him. "Maybe with this, I can help add to the list. Make better horrors- more frightening ones. Then, the Fair would generate more Dark Energy. Which I could use to make even better monsters... All the creative freedom, no actual harm done... it's perfect."
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)
Misha watches from afar, her eyes wide in fear but also hunger. She grips her blade before slowly sliding it back in the sheath.
He pulls the sword out of the man's chest, watching the blood spill as he drops to the ground. He then begins hacking violently, leaning on his sword as bile begins leaking from under his helmet.
She steps forward again, moving closer and closer like a cat sneaking up on prey.
He doesn’t notice them, the bile continuing to flow, burning into the ground like acid, the box slowly fading from his attire and weapon back to silver.
She is right near him at this point, mere feet from his being. She gently reaches out and touches his shoulder.
The moment they make contact, he reaching up with lightning speed, his hand wrapping around her wrist with crushing strength before he sees its Misha, stopping himself.
When he pulls away, he finds her wrist has been crushed like porcelain, yet she doesn't seem to cry, scream, anything resembling pain She just watches her own limp wrist flop over like a wet fish.
He looks at them, despite the concern on his face his eyes are unfocused, before looking down at his own hands. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and he collapses to the ground, looking down at the grass.
"I'm very glad you enjoyed it, and more glad that you've decided not to finish the job. After 600-odd years of retirement, I lack the resources and skills I once had to face down a younger you." He looks to his students. "You are an inspiration to me, you know. I spent that 600 years improving in non-violent areas, studying my past foes, and how they came to power with such different approaches. You were, as always, an outlier in every way. I needed to know what made you tick. And so I studied you. The man, or men, as it is, that didn't fear my pen."
“An inspiration to you? I’m happy I helped where I could, even if it wasn’t entirely intentional. My life has been a long one I’ve lived, and even at my youngest, I’ve got regrets, but seeing that I’ve made a change I know will be lasting, and a positive one at that, warms my heart.” He looks at the students train, taking his attention off of Oris for a moment.
"Indeed. But now is the long game." He takes a sip of his own tea as Oris gets the zoomies and begins to run around, possibly in protest.
The 14 students are incredibly green, but are putting in a ton of effort. They truly believe in what they're going to be fighting for, although Eithan can tell that none of them want to actually fight.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Really? I thank you for your patronage then." He smiles faintly.
"No problem. I wanted to do something nice for you!"
"Nothing at all."
"I enjoyed the one about werewolves." she says simply, the shelf disappearing as well
"Well, I don't know how to return the favor." he chuckles softly. "any ideas?"
"You sure about that?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
"I'm very glad you enjoyed it, and more glad that you've decided not to finish the job. After 600-odd years of retirement, I lack the resources and skills I once had to face down a younger you." He looks to his students. "You are an inspiration to me, you know. I spent that 600 years improving in non-violent areas, studying my past foes, and how they came to power with such different approaches. You were, as always, an outlier in every way. I needed to know what made you tick. And so I studied you. The man, or men, as it is, that didn't fear my pen."
“An inspiration to you? I’m happy I helped where I could, even if it wasn’t entirely intentional. My life has been a long one I’ve lived, and even at my youngest, I’ve got regrets, but seeing that I’ve made a change I know will be lasting, and a positive one at that, warms my heart.” He looks at the students train, taking his attention off of Oris for a moment.
"Indeed. But now is the long game." He takes a sip of his own tea as Oris gets the zoomies and begins to run around, possibly in protest.
The 14 students are incredibly green, but are putting in a ton of effort. They truly believe in what they're going to be fighting for, although Eithan can tell that none of them want to actually fight.
He watches the students, noticing that the students don’t want to truly fight “I assume, based on your experience that you can tell these kids don’t want to fight, even if they believe in the cause. They are afraid of getting hurt, you are raising a bunch of talkers, not fighters, and with that, may I be allowed to do something?”
Misha watches from afar, her eyes wide in fear but also hunger. She grips her blade before slowly sliding it back in the sheath.
He pulls the sword out of the man's chest, watching the blood spill as he drops to the ground. He then begins hacking violently, leaning on his sword as bile begins leaking from under his helmet.
She steps forward again, moving closer and closer like a cat sneaking up on prey.
He doesn’t notice them, the bile continuing to flow, burning into the ground like acid, the box slowly fading from his attire and weapon back to silver.
She is right near him at this point, mere feet from his being. She gently reaches out and touches his shoulder.
The moment they make contact, he reaching up with lightning speed, his hand wrapping around her wrist with crushing strength before he sees its Misha, stopping himself.
When he pulls away, he finds her wrist has been crushed like porcelain, yet she doesn't seem to cry, scream, anything resembling pain She just watches her own limp wrist flop over like a wet fish.
He looks at them, despite the concern on his face his eyes are unfocused, before looking down at his own hands. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and he collapses to the ground, looking down at the grass.
She watches her limp wrist for a moment before the bones crack sickeningly, repairing themselves as they rebuild bit by bit. She drops down beside him, watching him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
He raises an eyebrow, reaching farther down with his hand, “If you want to, dear, I’m certainly not opposed.”
She looks over to them before nodding, going back to the library to get the microscope.
She shrinks away from their raised voice, making a nearly inaudible noise as she looks back down at the ground, “Y-yes sir… okay…” She takes what he said as if it were an order.
(PM?)
When she returns, he gets prepared.
His voice was only slightly louder than speaking volume, but still a signifiicant moment. he sniffles, patting their head with a pad. "I'm sorry.. I was, and knew people, in a similar situation.. it hurts me to see it.."
*If you want to, sure. Want anyone else?*
She sets down the microscope, giving them all the time they need, pulling out a syringe for extracting the blood.
She shivers once again at their touch, leaning a bit away from them now, closing her eyes as she quivers, muttering something to herself as she wraps herself tightly back up in the clothes.
"Fourteen men. They train hard. They want to become soldiers for my cause. Normally I'd be loathe to use slaughtered animals, but the artificial meat I normally use is far too limited for my needs. Besides, it's already dead now, isn't it?" He chuckles softly, then turns to Oris. "Oh, looks like they've already decided on what they want for their treat."
The head's eyes are pitch black, and it attempts to bite Angel until it sees Stigmata. It wheezes and hisses, but not in a hostile manner. "He's not very good... but he's family, isn't he?"
"A treat?" she asks, walking over to where Oris stares into the glass and at the cuts of long pig. She crouches down, staring at it as well, "You want that?" she asks them.
"Family to you?" Angel asks, giving the head back to Stigmata.
Oris squeaks. Baegoji nods. "We've always had a fascination with... pragmatic cuisine. Unless you are saving it for yourself, in which case I could suggest some recipes." He lowers his glasses, revealing his strange, glowing, bloodred eyes. "If you're interested."
He takes it and cradles it. "He's my brother. It's so rare that they survive the Beach, let alone escape it."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Misha watches from afar, her eyes wide in fear but also hunger. She grips her blade before slowly sliding it back in the sheath.
He pulls the sword out of the man's chest, watching the blood spill as he drops to the ground. He then begins hacking violently, leaning on his sword as bile begins leaking from under his helmet.
She steps forward again, moving closer and closer like a cat sneaking up on prey.
He doesn’t notice them, the bile continuing to flow, burning into the ground like acid, the box slowly fading from his attire and weapon back to silver.
She is right near him at this point, mere feet from his being. She gently reaches out and touches his shoulder.
The moment they make contact, he reaching up with lightning speed, his hand wrapping around her wrist with crushing strength before he sees its Misha, stopping himself.
When he pulls away, he finds her wrist has been crushed like porcelain, yet she doesn't seem to cry, scream, anything resembling pain She just watches her own limp wrist flop over like a wet fish.
He looks at them, despite the concern on his face his eyes are unfocused, before looking down at his own hands. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and he collapses to the ground, looking down at the grass.
She watches her limp wrist for a moment before the bones crack sickeningly, repairing themselves as they rebuild bit by bit. She drops down beside him, watching him.
He just looks at the ground, his eyes wet with tears that drink into the acidic bile and sizzle as he begins to speak, his voice dry and tired “I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry…” He says, looking over to them for a moment.
He raises an eyebrow, reaching farther down with his hand, “If you want to, dear, I’m certainly not opposed.”
She looks over to them before nodding, going back to the library to get the microscope.
She shrinks away from their raised voice, making a nearly inaudible noise as she looks back down at the ground, “Y-yes sir… okay…” She takes what he said as if it were an order.
(PM?)
When she returns, he gets prepared.
His voice was only slightly louder than speaking volume, but still a signifiicant moment. he sniffles, patting their head with a pad. "I'm sorry.. I was, and knew people, in a similar situation.. it hurts me to see it.."
*If you want to, sure. Want anyone else?*
She sets down the microscope, giving them all the time they need, pulling out a syringe for extracting the blood.
She shivers once again at their touch, leaning a bit away from them now, closing her eyes as she quivers, muttering something to herself as she wraps herself tightly back up in the clothes.
*ehh not anymore. Uhh give me Don*
He gives them his arm.
"I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to upset you.." he seems more downtrodden than her.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
"You too, Omori." He stares at it with her. "I'm not actually qualified to attempt a closure. That tape is basically fly paper for Nightmares, though, so we should be... fine. Not much better or worse than that."
"It's fun, isn't it? All the horrors in the world at your disposal..." He starts dancing again, the bodies moaning in pain beneath him. "And none of them can do a thing about it."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"A treat?" she asks, walking over to where Oris stares into the glass and at the cuts of long pig. She crouches down, staring at it as well, "You want that?" she asks them.
"Family to you?" Angel asks, giving the head back to Stigmata.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*If you want to, sure. Want anyone else?*
She sets down the microscope, giving them all the time they need, pulling out a syringe for extracting the blood.
She shivers once again at their touch, leaning a bit away from them now, closing her eyes as she quivers, muttering something to herself as she wraps herself tightly back up in the clothes.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
The moment they make contact, he reaching up with lightning speed, his hand wrapping around her wrist with crushing strength before he sees its Misha, stopping himself.
*sorry*
She tucks it away. "I've read your books, they're wonderful"
"Ahh, thank you so much!"
"Well its my story. What do you want?" he asks, a bit annoyed.
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
He smiles as Oris slides into his lap. "I'm glad." He pours a cup of tea for Aokiji. "I try to be honest with people that I like. Because if you spend time with someone, they will find out that you lied. I isolated myself for centuries in the study of diplomacy, and I have to say I'm much better at misinformation. But diplomacy is much more important a skill in peacetime."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
When he pulls away, he finds her wrist has been crushed like porcelain, yet she doesn't seem to cry, scream, anything resembling pain She just watches her own limp wrist flop over like a wet fish.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*cut, no problem at all*
"Really? I thank you for your patronage then." He smiles faintly.
"No problem. I wanted to do something nice for you!"
"Nothing at all."
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He takes it, letting it steep and warm his paws. "Well, I will be honest as well. I enjoy your presence, your mannerisms remind me of my own people, and our similar deities helps that as well."
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
"That's good- I don't think this place needs to get any scarier anytime soon." She says, shivering at the thought.
"All the horrors in the world..." She repeats to herself, walking over towards him. "Maybe with this, I can help add to the list. Make better horrors- more frightening ones. Then, the Fair would generate more Dark Energy. Which I could use to make even better monsters... All the creative freedom, no actual harm done... it's perfect."
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 looks at them, despite the concern on his face his eyes are unfocused, before looking down at his own hands. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and he collapses to the ground, looking down at the grass.
"Indeed. But now is the long game." He takes a sip of his own tea as Oris gets the zoomies and begins to run around, possibly in protest.
The 14 students are incredibly green, but are putting in a ton of effort. They truly believe in what they're going to be fighting for, although Eithan can tell that none of them want to actually fight.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I enjoyed the one about werewolves." she says simply, the shelf disappearing as well
"Well, I don't know how to return the favor." he chuckles softly. "any ideas?"
"You sure about that?"
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
He watches the students, noticing that the students don’t want to truly fight “I assume, based on your experience that you can tell these kids don’t want to fight, even if they believe in the cause. They are afraid of getting hurt, you are raising a bunch of talkers, not fighters, and with that, may I be allowed to do something?”
She watches her limp wrist for a moment before the bones crack sickeningly, repairing themselves as they rebuild bit by bit. She drops down beside him, watching him.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
Oris squeaks. Baegoji nods. "We've always had a fascination with... pragmatic cuisine. Unless you are saving it for yourself, in which case I could suggest some recipes." He lowers his glasses, revealing his strange, glowing, bloodred eyes. "If you're interested."
He takes it and cradles it. "He's my brother. It's so rare that they survive the Beach, let alone escape it."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He just looks at the ground, his eyes wet with tears that drink into the acidic bile and sizzle as he begins to speak, his voice dry and tired “I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry…” He says, looking over to them for a moment.
*ehh not anymore. Uhh give me Don*
He gives them his arm.
"I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to upset you.." he seems more downtrodden than her.
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25