"Well, the materials have unique properties you haven't been employing. And I can tell by looking at the Schisms that they don't have very fulfilling lives, even with their limited intelligence. Was that an intentional detail? It adds to the horror to think that there isn't hope here, but it's less fun when the monsters aren't enjoying themselves too." He patiently waits for her answer, interested in not just her answer and her work, but in her as a person.
She thinks for a while, seeming saddened to hear that her creations aren't enjoying their time at the Fair. "I was aware I wasn't using the materials to their full potential- I didn't have a way to use those properties at the time... but I didn't know they weren't content at the Fair. That wasn't intentional. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll see if I can find some ways to make their lives more fulfilling- after all, horror's only fun if everyone's having fun."
He pats her on the shoulder. "Well, I can help you there. I take care of Nightmares as my day job. A babysitter, if that term even applies. Constructs made of their materials are quite similar. The best way to see if a Nightmare is happy is if it is growing in power and filled with Nocturnite. They may even leave bits of it lying around if they're truly fulfilled. You could use that to make specialized tools and Artefacts to improve their creation and care further."
"Sounds like a nice day job." She starts, producing her notepad and beginning to take notes as he explains. "I'll do my best to make sure they're all as happy and healthy as nightmarish constructs can be. I imagine it'll be a bit easier to know for certain once... er, never mind that. What are Artefacts, if I may ask?"
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)
"Hey, buddy!" he smiles, a bit hollow. "You're out a long ways."
"Unfortunate. how come, pal?"
"Aww, ya got my pride hurtin'.." he laughs
“Yeah. I live out here. You?”
He shrugs. “Hate. Spite. Lingering affection, maybe?”
“Apologies. How are you?”
"I live here too, just moved only recently though.. Whats the crime rate like?"
She whistles and taps her foot, jangling. "Darn heavy.. Hopefully it all works out for ya."
"Enchanted now, who's this lovely dear? She's simply adorable." he sits down on the side of him that caramel is on.
“Pretty high, I’d assume.” She shrugs.
”Yeah. It’ll be quite the day, I guess.”
Caramel nuzzles up against his hand. “This is my familiar, Caramel. She’s the only living thing aside from Azuth that can beat me at chess.”
"Good, good... for the bounty hunters, anyway.." he kinda lifts up his heels.
"Well, I seen ya with that ex drug boy, helpin' him out.. I know he'd like ya just the same if things with your other half go sour."
"Such a fine young lady, and with wonderful manners." he smiles, petting her a bit.
“Yeah, I’ve seen some of them snooping around my woods. I just pay ‘em no mind.”
“Oh I know. Matter of fact, all my support has been meant to cultivate that. Which will lead, hopefully, to a mixture of obsession, affection, and deep-seated devotion since I helped bring him back from the nadir of his life… when I can bring that about to eclipse his personality, well, I don’t think even Asmedai could have such a loyal cultist.”
<Thank you for your compliments, however patronizing.> She responds telepathically.
"I dont usually bother anybody, my family's peaceful and quiet. Got my whole life in a box." he knocks on the shipping container.
"I think ya mean Ashmedai, right?" she chuckles. "You got 'im wrapped around your finger do ya? Good on ya."
"Well then, I suppose I owe you a higher level of respect now that I know how intelligent you truly are. Pardon me, ma'adam."
She smiles. “Good to be… what’s the word? Minimalistic.”
“Same guy. And I do hope I don’t do wrong by him. In some way, I pity him, and isn’t pity the ultimate root of all positive emotions?”
<It is alright. Elevation to sapience doesn’t mean feline pleasures become meaningless.>
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.
2 Corinthians 11:47 "And no wonder, for Satan disguises himself as an Angel of Light."
A human man, or so he appears, has arrived at the tavern. No more than 5'9, he is dressed in a dark maroon suit with a black tie and cufflinks. His short but neatly cut golden ash hair has not a root out of place. His eyes are as maroon as his suit, if not a shade darker, with golden flecks towards the iris. He is expression is one of endless amusement towards what he see's. He is handsome, like an angel of sorts. He sits in the library, reading a book while enjoying a glass of Merlot.
An area has opened up in the forest. One would expect it to be another bar or perhaps just a shop but it is something completely different. A simple wooden sign is out front deeming the area and the building 'The Lord's Rest Nature Center'. A man sits on the front porch of the small building, a small mimic in the shape of a teapot sits in his like like a cat almost. He pets it happily, the mimic making a purring noise at this attention. He has brown curls, kept short but enough that he looks scruffy. On his nose is a pair of glasses held together by a wire frame. He wears a simple white T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and thick boots meant for outdoors work.
He pats her on the shoulder. "Well, I can help you there. I take care of Nightmares as my day job. A babysitter, if that term even applies. Constructs made of their materials are quite similar. The best way to see if a Nightmare is happy is if it is growing in power and filled with Nocturnite. They may even leave bits of it lying around if they're truly fulfilled. You could use that to make specialized tools and Artefacts to improve their creation and care further."
"Sounds like a nice day job." She starts, producing her notepad and beginning to take notes as he explains. "I'll do my best to make sure they're all as happy and healthy as nightmarish constructs can be. I imagine it'll be a bit easier to know for certain once... er, never mind that. What are Artefacts, if I may ask?"
He smiles. A knowing smile, as if he was hoping she would ask him. "Well, any object made out of Nocturnite is impressive, but an Artefact you see, is the object that is created inside the Nightmare, or what the Nightmare is built around. That object is infused with Nocturnite, and carries the soul of the Nightmare within it. Pour Dark Energy into it, and you can use the Nightmare's Noctourne Arte. Pour in enough, and it will even resurrect the Nightmare it used to be. Truly wonderful creatures, aren't they?"
"Well, a little over 10 years back, someone published a book about screens that watch you and report back to the government. This little guy isn't a computer, believe it or not. In fact, if you cut him open, you'd see pages." He pets it and sets it down. "These creatures may seem violent or irritable, but that's because they're so misunderstood. They have kindness and hope in their hearts, and it crystalizes into a rare magical metal used in the creation of... well, magic items. Weapons and generators are the most common."
He nods and smiles. "My grandpa gave me a set of knives made of the same metal you're talking about. Pages of what, may I ask?"
"Well, that very book. Maybe not the manuscript, that would create a much stronger Nightmare, but a well-loved edition of that book. Probably a well-feared one, all said. So you have Nocturnite knives? Very impressive. Are they forged, or drawn whole from my kin?" Not an ounce of warmth leaves his face or speech.
2 Corinthians 11:47 "And no wonder, for Satan disguises himself as an Angel of Light."
A human man, or so he appears, has arrived at the tavern. No more than 5'9, he is dressed in a dark maroon suit with a black tie and cufflinks. His short but neatly cut golden ash hair has not a root out of place. His eyes are as maroon as his suit, if not a shade darker, with golden flecks towards the iris. He is expression is one of endless amusement towards what he see's. He is handsome, like an angel of sorts. He sits in the library, reading a book while enjoying a glass of Merlot.
An area has opened up in the forest. One would expect it to be another bar or perhaps just a shop but it is something completely different. A simple wooden sign is out front deeming the area and the building 'The Lord's Rest Nature Center'. A man sits on the front porch of the small building, a small mimic in the shape of a teapot sits in his like like a cat almost. He pets it happily, the mimic making a purring noise at this attention. He has brown curls, kept short but enough that he looks scruffy. On his nose is a pair of glasses held together by a wire frame. He wears a simple white T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and thick boots meant for outdoors work.
Thirteen is also in the library, piecing together what resembles a decayed old codex.
Loriche is roaming and comes upon the location. She stands, staring at it, greatly confused.
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.
He pats her on the shoulder. "Well, I can help you there. I take care of Nightmares as my day job. A babysitter, if that term even applies. Constructs made of their materials are quite similar. The best way to see if a Nightmare is happy is if it is growing in power and filled with Nocturnite. They may even leave bits of it lying around if they're truly fulfilled. You could use that to make specialized tools and Artefacts to improve their creation and care further."
"Sounds like a nice day job." She starts, producing her notepad and beginning to take notes as he explains. "I'll do my best to make sure they're all as happy and healthy as nightmarish constructs can be. I imagine it'll be a bit easier to know for certain once... er, never mind that. What are Artefacts, if I may ask?"
He smiles. A knowing smile, as if he was hoping she would ask him. "Well, any object made out of Nocturnite is impressive, but an Artefact you see, is the object that is created inside the Nightmare, or what the Nightmare is built around. That object is infused with Nocturnite, and carries the soul of the Nightmare within it. Pour Dark Energy into it, and you can use the Nightmare's Noctourne Arte. Pour in enough, and it will even resurrect the Nightmare it used to be. Truly wonderful creatures, aren't they?"
She continues to take notes, eagerly listening to his explanation. If he looks, he can see there is a small sketch of something on the corner of the page of her notes- a mask with what looks like six painted circles resembling eyes. "Indeed- I've been hoping to conduct some research once I get the chance. I find it all very fascinating. Thank you for your help... er, I don't believe I got your name. What is your name?"
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)
"I dont usually bother anybody, my family's peaceful and quiet. Got my whole life in a box." he knocks on the shipping container.
"I think ya mean Ashmedai, right?" she chuckles. "You got 'im wrapped around your finger do ya? Good on ya."
"Well then, I suppose I owe you a higher level of respect now that I know how intelligent you truly are. Pardon me, ma'adam."
She smiles. “Good to be… what’s the word? Minimalistic.”
“Same guy. And I do hope I don’t do wrong by him. In some way, I pity him, and isn’t pity the ultimate root of all positive emotions?”
<It is alright. Elevation to sapience doesn’t mean feline pleasures become meaningless.>
He snaps, smiling and pointing. "That's it. What about you?"
"Pity is reserved for the weak or less than.. Make people do what benefits you, if ya can. Hope you get what ya want from 'im, you're a clever guy it sounds like."
"I'd be dishonest if I did not say I am plagued by the same instincts." he chuckles, ordering a beer.
Loriche shrugs. “Oh, I just make weapons and armor and stuff. It’s my passion.”
“Thank you! You sound like someone who’s already gained a lot of skill at manipulation. What kind of monster are YOU?”
Thirteen lifts Caramel and sets her down beside him, where she quickly sits up.
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.
2 Corinthians 11:47 "And no wonder, for Satan disguises himself as an Angel of Light."
A human man, or so he appears, has arrived at the tavern. No more than 5'9, he is dressed in a dark maroon suit with a black tie and cufflinks. His short but neatly cut golden ash hair has not a root out of place. His eyes are as maroon as his suit, if not a shade darker, with golden flecks towards the iris. He is expression is one of endless amusement towards what he see's. He is handsome, like an angel of sorts. He sits in the library, reading a book while enjoying a glass of Merlot.
An area has opened up in the forest. One would expect it to be another bar or perhaps just a shop but it is something completely different. A simple wooden sign is out front deeming the area and the building 'The Lord's Rest Nature Center'. A man sits on the front porch of the small building, a small mimic in the shape of a teapot sits in his like like a cat almost. He pets it happily, the mimic making a purring noise at this attention. He has brown curls, kept short but enough that he looks scruffy. On his nose is a pair of glasses held together by a wire frame. He wears a simple white T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and thick boots meant for outdoors work.
Thirteen is also in the library, piecing together what resembles a decayed old codex.
Loriche is roaming and comes upon the location. She stands, staring at it, greatly confused.
*Thank you beloved.*
The man looks over, raising a brow. Suddenly, he is right behind Thirteen. "What do we have here?"
The man looks up from sipping coffee from his coffee mug and waves
2 Corinthians 11:47 "And no wonder, for Satan disguises himself as an Angel of Light."
A human man, or so he appears, has arrived at the tavern. No more than 5'9, he is dressed in a dark maroon suit with a black tie and cufflinks. His short but neatly cut golden ash hair has not a root out of place. His eyes are as maroon as his suit, if not a shade darker, with golden flecks towards the iris. He is expression is one of endless amusement towards what he see's. He is handsome, like an angel of sorts. He sits in the library, reading a book while enjoying a glass of Merlot.
An area has opened up in the forest. One would expect it to be another bar or perhaps just a shop but it is something completely different. A simple wooden sign is out front deeming the area and the building 'The Lord's Rest Nature Center'. A man sits on the front porch of the small building, a small mimic in the shape of a teapot sits in his like like a cat almost. He pets it happily, the mimic making a purring noise at this attention. He has brown curls, kept short but enough that he looks scruffy. On his nose is a pair of glasses held together by a wire frame. He wears a simple white T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and thick boots meant for outdoors work.
Thirteen is also in the library, piecing together what resembles a decayed old codex.
Loriche is roaming and comes upon the location. She stands, staring at it, greatly confused.
*Thank you beloved.*
The man looks over, raising a brow. Suddenly, he is right behind Thirteen. "What do we have here?"
The man looks up from sipping coffee from his coffee mug and waves
Thirteen is utterly unfazed. “Remnant from Netheril. I think it might contain the condition which would break the sequester spell set upon the fabled dimensional hub of Archeum.”
She waves back. “This wasn’t here before, was it?”
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.
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"Sounds like a nice day job." She starts, producing her notepad and beginning to take notes as he explains. "I'll do my best to make sure they're all as happy and healthy as nightmarish constructs can be. I imagine it'll be a bit easier to know for certain once... er, never mind that. What are Artefacts, if I may ask?"
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 smiles. “Good to be… what’s the word? Minimalistic.”
“Same guy. And I do hope I don’t do wrong by him. In some way, I pity him, and isn’t pity the ultimate root of all positive emotions?”
<It is alright. Elevation to sapience doesn’t mean feline pleasures become meaningless.>
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Anybody wanna rp now that I’m here for a little bit? It’s cool if not, I’ll still be here.*
2 Corinthians 11:47 "And no wonder, for Satan disguises himself as an Angel of Light."
A human man, or so he appears, has arrived at the tavern. No more than 5'9, he is dressed in a dark maroon suit with a black tie and cufflinks. His short but neatly cut golden ash hair has not a root out of place. His eyes are as maroon as his suit, if not a shade darker, with golden flecks towards the iris. He is expression is one of endless amusement towards what he see's. He is handsome, like an angel of sorts. He sits in the library, reading a book while enjoying a glass of Merlot.
An area has opened up in the forest. One would expect it to be another bar or perhaps just a shop but it is something completely different. A simple wooden sign is out front deeming the area and the building 'The Lord's Rest Nature Center'. A man sits on the front porch of the small building, a small mimic in the shape of a teapot sits in his like like a cat almost. He pets it happily, the mimic making a purring noise at this attention. He has brown curls, kept short but enough that he looks scruffy. On his nose is a pair of glasses held together by a wire frame. He wears a simple white T-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and thick boots meant for outdoors work.
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
He smiles. A knowing smile, as if he was hoping she would ask him. "Well, any object made out of Nocturnite is impressive, but an Artefact you see, is the object that is created inside the Nightmare, or what the Nightmare is built around. That object is infused with Nocturnite, and carries the soul of the Nightmare within it. Pour Dark Energy into it, and you can use the Nightmare's Noctourne Arte. Pour in enough, and it will even resurrect the Nightmare it used to be. Truly wonderful creatures, aren't they?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Okay, all of those sound interesting, those are the bad people right? Do you wanna rp?*
"Well, that very book. Maybe not the manuscript, that would create a much stronger Nightmare, but a well-loved edition of that book. Probably a well-feared one, all said. So you have Nocturnite knives? Very impressive. Are they forged, or drawn whole from my kin?" Not an ounce of warmth leaves his face or speech.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Thirteen is also in the library, piecing together what resembles a decayed old codex.
Loriche is roaming and comes upon the location. She stands, staring at it, greatly confused.
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 continues to take notes, eagerly listening to his explanation. If he looks, he can see there is a small sketch of something on the corner of the page of her notes- a mask with what looks like six painted circles resembling eyes. "Indeed- I've been hoping to conduct some research once I get the chance. I find it all very fascinating. Thank you for your help... er, I don't believe I got your name. What is your name?"
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)
*Eh, use whoever you like. Might intro someone not too good myself, soon. Or maybe even today. Anyway, your turn to pick.^
Loriche shrugs. “Oh, I just make weapons and armor and stuff. It’s my passion.”
“Thank you! You sound like someone who’s already gained a lot of skill at manipulation. What kind of monster are YOU?”
Thirteen lifts Caramel and sets her down beside him, where she quickly sits up.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Thank you beloved.*
The man looks over, raising a brow. Suddenly, he is right behind Thirteen. "What do we have here?"
The man looks up from sipping coffee from his coffee mug and waves
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
*Just Salem? Just making sure, it’s all good if so.*
Thirteen is utterly unfazed. “Remnant from Netheril. I think it might contain the condition which would break the sequester spell set upon the fabled dimensional hub of Archeum.”
She waves back. “This wasn’t here before, was it?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.