"Ha! I do, don't I?" He puts out the meat pancake and takes a bite. "Wonderful. A bit overcooked, but that's how trying new things works. It tastes like it's been dry-aged for a while." He offers some to Carrion. "Wanna try some? Also, how has your manifesto been going?"
He shakes his head "I am.. not hungry. The manifesto? I hope to put something in it but my mind goes blank whenever I hold a quill." he softly confessed "Is it possible to not have a manifesto of sorts? to have no aims? I am unsure.."
"Your people won't accept that. They'll impose their own ideas onto you and use you as a symbol for whatever they want." He gobbles the meatcake and licks his fingers, wrapping his tongue around them and pulling it back before moving onto the next. When he's done with the uncomfortable display, he drums his fingers on Carrion's side. "I could spread the word that you don't have any goals or interests, but that would require revealing myself to the world at large, which would undoubtedly call up Morgana. She assumes I'm yours, and so my flaunting of her inability to keep me dead makes her mad."
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I can imagine. Too much interaction with the eldritch can be overwhelming for some of us." He shrugs. "What spells you trying to learn?"
"Right now, I'm still trying to figure out Moonbeam. Might also try learning Augury- that one sounds like it'd be useful." She answers, looking up at the clouds.
"I can help with Augury." He places his recipe book on the ground and opens it up. "I find it's best with bones, and it's cheapest to carve your own. You can't get them from a butcher, or it doesn't really work. You got some already, or should we go hunting?"
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Ha! I do, don't I?" He puts out the meat pancake and takes a bite. "Wonderful. A bit overcooked, but that's how trying new things works. It tastes like it's been dry-aged for a while." He offers some to Carrion. "Wanna try some? Also, how has your manifesto been going?"
He shakes his head "I am.. not hungry. The manifesto? I hope to put something in it but my mind goes blank whenever I hold a quill." he softly confessed "Is it possible to not have a manifesto of sorts? to have no aims? I am unsure.."
"Your people won't accept that. They'll impose their own ideas onto you and use you as a symbol for whatever they want." He gobbles the meatcake and licks his fingers, wrapping his tongue around them and pulling it back before moving onto the next. When he's done with the uncomfortable display, he drums his fingers on Carrion's side. "I could spread the word that you don't have any goals or interests, but that would require revealing myself to the world at large, which would undoubtedly call up Morgana. She assumes I'm yours, and so my flaunting of her inability to keep me dead makes her mad."
"I despise her and all the new blood, they willingly stood by or partook in killing off the elders because you know the saying 'out with the old, in with the new' and that sort of horribleness.. God of Death and his wife, the Goddess of Life, whom you and I know as Morgana killed my beloved Ko. I built them, I watched them grow, and then suddenly I AM THE FESTERING TUMOR WHO MUST GO, I MUST BE BURIED UNDER RUBBLE AND LEFT TO ROT ALL BECAUSE I HAVE NO PLACE IN THE NEW WORLD." His tone grows from calm to a snarl of pure rage as he vents his frustrations.
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"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Helianth and its avatars are all tending to another 'garden' of ashen pots and writhing brambles outside the Spelljammer, assumedly creating even more avatars.
Tim watches from the ship, being completely normal again is kind of strange to him, he kind of misses having some kind of power, and every way he had it, but now, he's just a kid.
The wretched sunflower steps away from its work, letting its fabrications tend to the garden in its stead as it heads inside the ship- it has an idea, and goes to find its notes.
Tim silently follows after them, he doesn't say much, just clinging to his spell book and watching them. He hasn't eaten much, kind of simply... thinking about things.
It quickly finds the notes it was looking for- arcane sigils similar in design to the one's in Tim's own spellbook- and follows the instructions on the pages. A few minutes later, a tiny portion of its amassed energy has coalesced into its hand, which gleams from within with a brilliant light. It retrieves Rend's Cleaver from its tangled stem, and with one swift motion, cuts its wrist. Condensed divine ichor flows into a produced vial in a third hand, flowing like liquid light from the wound and into the container. The wound quickly heals afterwards.
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 can imagine. Too much interaction with the eldritch can be overwhelming for some of us." He shrugs. "What spells you trying to learn?"
"Right now, I'm still trying to figure out Moonbeam. Might also try learning Augury- that one sounds like it'd be useful." She answers, looking up at the clouds.
"I can help with Augury." He places his recipe book on the ground and opens it up. "I find it's best with bones, and it's cheapest to carve your own. You can't get them from a butcher, or it doesn't really work. You got some already, or should we go hunting?"
"I have loads I've been saving!" She responds, reaching into a pocket of her satchel and producing an overflowing handful of small bones from birds, fish, rodents, deer, and a few other creatures. "Would these work, or do we need something fresher?"
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)
"Your people won't accept that. They'll impose their own ideas onto you and use you as a symbol for whatever they want." He gobbles the meatcake and licks his fingers, wrapping his tongue around them and pulling it back before moving onto the next. When he's done with the uncomfortable display, he drums his fingers on Carrion's side. "I could spread the word that you don't have any goals or interests, but that would require revealing myself to the world at large, which would undoubtedly call up Morgana. She assumes I'm yours, and so my flaunting of her inability to keep me dead makes her mad."
"I despise her and all the new blood, they willingly stood by or partook in killing off the elders because you know the saying 'out with the old, in with the new' and that sort of horribleness.. God of Death and his wife, the Goddess of Life, whom you and I know as Morgana killed my beloved Ko. I built them, I watched them grow, and then suddenly I AM THE FESTERING TUMOR WHO MUST GO, I MUST BE BURIED UNDER RUBBLE AND LEFT TO ROT ALL BECAUSE I HAVE NO PLACE IN THE NEW WORLD." His tone grows from calm to a snarl of pure rage as he vents his frustrations.
Atticus hugs the Worm that Loves "Oh, poor baby..." he coos. It's hard to tell if he's being sincere. He hums a tune, then begins to play on his six-string. He flips the bird to the sky. "This goes out to all you mother(GP)ers. Hope you're happy up there."
"I cannot be saved... No, I can't be saved..." Blood begins to drip from the trees as he stands up, slowly twirling as the gore forms a vortex around him.
"I’ve fallen for a lie... But your sins don’t make room for mine. Raise a glass, Pour the wine, They say when you’re bruised, you’re alive. I’ve signed into law, And it states I’m all for you when the time comes."
Angelic forms appear in the blood, clawing at the others as they descend into the ground, their screams providing backing vocals. "Feeling dead, Head to toe. Demons hide, From heavens knows! Heaven's sakes, I'm low, Heathen child, In the cold! SAVE! YOUR! GRIEVANCES!!!"
The blood catches alight and the vortex slowly reverses, burning away from bottom to top. "So this was your plan all along? Why, oh why’d I roll the dice? People scared, they run from me, Hold them, turn to dust for me, Citadels alight for me! Go ahead and die for me! I signed my name into law... Why, oh why?"
He stomps the ground, causing skeletal arms from many humanoids to push up from the humus of the forest floor, the demons providing backing vocals this time, providing additional calls of "Save Us" with each line. "Feeling dead, Head to toe. Demons hide, From heavens knows! Heaven's sakes, I'm low, Heathen child, In the cold! SAVE! YOUR! GRIEVANCES!!!"
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.
Helianth and its avatars are all tending to another 'garden' of ashen pots and writhing brambles outside the Spelljammer, assumedly creating even more avatars.
Tim watches from the ship, being completely normal again is kind of strange to him, he kind of misses having some kind of power, and every way he had it, but now, he's just a kid.
The wretched sunflower steps away from its work, letting its fabrications tend to the garden in its stead as it heads inside the ship- it has an idea, and goes to find its notes.
Tim silently follows after them, he doesn't say much, just clinging to his spell book and watching them. He hasn't eaten much, kind of simply... thinking about things.
It quickly finds the notes it was looking for- arcane sigils similar in design to the one's in Tim's own spellbook- and follows the instructions on the pages. A few minutes later, a tiny portion of its amassed energy has coalesced into its hand, which gleams from within with a brilliant light. It retrieves Rend's Cleaver from its tangled stem, and with one swift motion, cuts its wrist. Condensed divine ichor flows into a produced vial in a third hand, flowing like liquid light from the wound and into the container. The wound quickly heals afterwards.
He tries to identify the runes despite being confused and concerned at why they injured themselves, even more so now that they are healed and holding the vial, his eyes ask all the questions his face doesn’t.
"I can help with Augury." He places his recipe book on the ground and opens it up. "I find it's best with bones, and it's cheapest to carve your own. You can't get them from a butcher, or it doesn't really work. You got some already, or should we go hunting?"
"I have loads I've been saving!" She responds, reaching into a pocket of her satchel and producing an overflowing handful of small bones from birds, fish, rodents, deer, and a few other creatures. "Would these work, or do we need something fresher?"
"These will do nicely. Now, what kind of divinations do you need? Each kind has a different rune language to learn. I've had to re-learn it each time I died, and I don't recommend learning all of them. Waste of time, and life only lasts so long."
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.
"No need for me to elaborate farther? Good." She sits next to the campfire in a large recliner.
She continues to run her hands along them, enjoying this spot shes in.
(Good place to end?)
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.)
"Your people won't accept that. They'll impose their own ideas onto you and use you as a symbol for whatever they want." He gobbles the meatcake and licks his fingers, wrapping his tongue around them and pulling it back before moving onto the next. When he's done with the uncomfortable display, he drums his fingers on Carrion's side. "I could spread the word that you don't have any goals or interests, but that would require revealing myself to the world at large, which would undoubtedly call up Morgana. She assumes I'm yours, and so my flaunting of her inability to keep me dead makes her mad."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I can help with Augury." He places his recipe book on the ground and opens it up. "I find it's best with bones, and it's cheapest to carve your own. You can't get them from a butcher, or it doesn't really work. You got some already, or should we go hunting?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Hey Jester... what about Atticus and Tim? Do you think they could have a fun interaction?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Do you want me to?" She asks in response, looking over to them with a raised eyebrow, tapping the recliner.
They are softer than they look, a brilliant bright red color, shining as bright as it gets.
Camilla is taking a bath in the sink at Dew's house, feeling a little small, but minding it less.
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 despise her and all the new blood, they willingly stood by or partook in killing off the elders because you know the saying 'out with the old, in with the new' and that sort of horribleness.. God of Death and his wife, the Goddess of Life, whom you and I know as Morgana killed my beloved Ko. I built them, I watched them grow, and then suddenly I AM THE FESTERING TUMOR WHO MUST GO, I MUST BE BURIED UNDER RUBBLE AND LEFT TO ROT ALL BECAUSE I HAVE NO PLACE IN THE NEW WORLD." His tone grows from calm to a snarl of pure rage as he vents his frustrations.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*I do very much think that they would, do you want to rp that right now?*
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.)
It quickly finds the notes it was looking for- arcane sigils similar in design to the one's in Tim's own spellbook- and follows the instructions on the pages. A few minutes later, a tiny portion of its amassed energy has coalesced into its hand, which gleams from within with a brilliant light. It retrieves Rend's Cleaver from its tangled stem, and with one swift motion, cuts its wrist. Condensed divine ichor flows into a produced vial in a third hand, flowing like liquid light from the wound and into the container. The wound quickly heals afterwards.
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 have loads I've been saving!" She responds, reaching into a pocket of her satchel and producing an overflowing handful of small bones from birds, fish, rodents, deer, and a few other creatures. "Would these work, or do we need something fresher?"
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)
Atticus hugs the Worm that Loves "Oh, poor baby..." he coos. It's hard to tell if he's being sincere. He hums a tune, then begins to play on his six-string. He flips the bird to the sky. "This goes out to all you mother(GP)ers. Hope you're happy up there."
"I cannot be saved...
No, I can't be saved..."
Blood begins to drip from the trees as he stands up, slowly twirling as the gore forms a vortex around him.
"I’ve fallen for a lie...
But your sins don’t make room for mine.
Raise a glass,
Pour the wine,
They say when you’re bruised, you’re alive.
I’ve signed into law,
And it states I’m all for you when the time comes."
Angelic forms appear in the blood, clawing at the others as they descend into the ground, their screams providing backing vocals.
"Feeling dead,
Head to toe.
Demons hide,
From heavens knows!
Heaven's sakes,
I'm low,
Heathen child,
In the cold!
SAVE!
YOUR!
GRIEVANCES!!!"
The blood catches alight and the vortex slowly reverses, burning away from bottom to top.
"So this was your plan all along?
Why, oh why’d I roll the dice?
People scared, they run from me,
Hold them, turn to dust for me,
Citadels alight for me!
Go ahead and die for me!
I signed my name into law...
Why, oh why?"
He stomps the ground, causing skeletal arms from many humanoids to push up from the humus of the forest floor, the demons providing backing vocals this time, providing additional calls of "Save Us" with each line.
"Feeling dead,
Head to toe.
Demons hide,
From heavens knows!
Heaven's sakes,
I'm low,
Heathen child,
In the cold!
SAVE!
YOUR!
GRIEVANCES!!!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She reaches out with one hand, gingerly pulling them close and kissing them, plenty of time.
“Cause I do, do ya want more reason than that?”
She comes back out in some pajamas and a robe, holding her other cloths, “Thank you Dew.”
*Indeemd*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He tries to identify the runes despite being confused and concerned at why they injured themselves, even more so now that they are healed and holding the vial, his eyes ask all the questions his face doesn’t.
*b*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*If you say so, here you go.*
Tim is sitting outside of Helianth’s ship, reading a book.
"These will do nicely. Now, what kind of divinations do you need? Each kind has a different rune language to learn. I've had to re-learn it each time I died, and I don't recommend learning all of them. Waste of time, and life only lasts so long."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Oh, well if you say so, c*