Riotan is carving a new pattern into the palm of his left hand.
The Seer has returned, trying to enter the Inn and failing. Thirteen could probably sense that the being trying to enter is an eldritch one, suffused in energy reminiscent of the Shadowfell, but nothing else.
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)
Omori is sitting outside, watching the sky with no clear goal or purpose. After a while, she spots another group of migrating birds- a flock of a few dozen geese that soar overhead to warmer climates. Watching them for a while, she pauses for a moment. Her eyes widen towards the sky with a sense of... recognition?
The memory is a blur- there for the blink of an eye and gone again- but some trace details linger for a brief moment longer than the rest. A shimmer of moonlight on treated glass. The faint aroma of the forest. A laugh shared between friends. A smell of mold... bloodstains on torn silk... the sound of breaking glass. The way the moon gleamed so brilliantly that night...
Omori simply lays on the cold grass below, silently pondering what she just felt.
Isaac sits next to her "are you cloudwatching?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
*Guys, I just offended my coworker by pouring ketchup on my rice*
*You offended me too*
*I was hungry :[*
(but why would you use [GP] ketchup]
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Omori is sitting outside, watching the sky with no clear goal or purpose. After a while, she spots another group of migrating birds- a flock of a few dozen geese that soar overhead to warmer climates. Watching them for a while, she pauses for a moment. Her eyes widen towards the sky with a sense of... recognition?
The memory is a blur- there for the blink of an eye and gone again- but some trace details linger for a brief moment longer than the rest. A shimmer of moonlight on treated glass. The faint aroma of the forest. A laugh shared between friends. A smell of mold... bloodstains on torn silk... the sound of breaking glass. The way the moon gleamed so brilliantly that night...
Omori simply lays on the cold grass below, silently pondering what she just felt.
Isaac sits next to her "are you cloudwatching?"
She jolts upright, shaken from her thoughts by his voice. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I just was looking at the sky while... while thinking of something, is all."
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)
*Guys, I just offended my coworker by pouring ketchup on my rice*
*You offended me too*
*I was hungry :[*
(but why would you use [GP] ketchup]
*SO IT HAD FLAVOR- [SOBS]*
(that is so cursed)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Riotan is carving a new pattern into the palm of his left hand.
The Seer has returned, trying to enter the Inn and failing. Thirteen could probably sense that the being trying to enter is an eldritch one, suffused in energy reminiscent of the Shadowfell, but nothing else.
He immediately wakes up, looking panicked. “He’s here. It worked. I still have time.” He grabs his flail, journal, and holy symbols of Azuth, Mystra, and Jergal. From his satchel he takes an elvish sword of great antiquity, and charges outside, preparing his strongest defensive spells.
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.
Omori is sitting outside, watching the sky with no clear goal or purpose. After a while, she spots another group of migrating birds- a flock of a few dozen geese that soar overhead to warmer climates. Watching them for a while, she pauses for a moment. Her eyes widen towards the sky with a sense of... recognition?
The memory is a blur- there for the blink of an eye and gone again- but some trace details linger for a brief moment longer than the rest. A shimmer of moonlight on treated glass. The faint aroma of the forest. A laugh shared between friends. A smell of mold... bloodstains on torn silk... the sound of breaking glass. The way the moon gleamed so brilliantly that night...
Omori simply lays on the cold grass below, silently pondering what she just felt.
Isaac sits next to her "are you cloudwatching?"
She jolts upright, shaken from her thoughts by his voice. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I just was looking at the sky while... while thinking of something, is all."
He nods "it's peaceful today"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Riotan is carving a new pattern into the palm of his left hand.
The Seer has returned, trying to enter the Inn and failing. Thirteen could probably sense that the being trying to enter is an eldritch one, suffused in energy reminiscent of the Shadowfell, but nothing else.
He immediately wakes up, looking panicked. “He’s here. It worked. I still have time.” He grabs his flail, journal, and holy symbols of Azuth, Mystra, and Jergal. From his satchel he takes an elvish sword of great antiquity, and charges outside, preparing his strongest defensive spells.
When he arrives, he sees the Seer- probably not the one Thirteen was expecting- attempting to brute-force her way through the barrier. She almost immediately notices him, locking eyes with him.
"I take it you're the one who set these wards up?"
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)
Allison is playing her lute on a small stage in the tavern, with people dropping coins into a small wooden box at her feet. She sings beautifully about worlds unknown. She is dressed in a white shoulderless blouse with a black corset over top and a long black skirt.
Alix is in the tavern, eating his lunch which is a lunch meal for about 10 people. He is dressed in a black tanktop and brown shorts. His tail wags happily as he devours it with little hesitation.
Stroth is standing before a salt circle, summoning demons to use for her bidding later. She hums to herself as she does, as if happy at summoning evils from the depths of the abyss.
Riotan is carving a new pattern into the palm of his left hand.
The Seer has returned, trying to enter the Inn and failing. Thirteen could probably sense that the being trying to enter is an eldritch one, suffused in energy reminiscent of the Shadowfell, but nothing else.
He immediately wakes up, looking panicked. “He’s here. It worked. I still have time.” He grabs his flail, journal, and holy symbols of Azuth, Mystra, and Jergal. From his satchel he takes an elvish sword of great antiquity, and charges outside, preparing his strongest defensive spells.
When he arrives, he sees the Seer- probably not the one Thirteen was expecting- attempting to brute-force her way through the barrier. She almost immediately notices him, locking eyes with him.
"I take it you're the one who set these wards up?"
He sighs, tucking echo cutter back into his satchel. “Yes. I mistook you for another. Give me a moment…” He wearily takes out his vial of green dragon blood and begins revising the sigils.
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.
Omori is sitting outside, watching the sky with no clear goal or purpose. After a while, she spots another group of migrating birds- a flock of a few dozen geese that soar overhead to warmer climates. Watching them for a while, she pauses for a moment. Her eyes widen towards the sky with a sense of... recognition?
The memory is a blur- there for the blink of an eye and gone again- but some trace details linger for a brief moment longer than the rest. A shimmer of moonlight on treated glass. The faint aroma of the forest. A laugh shared between friends. A smell of mold... bloodstains on torn silk... the sound of breaking glass. The way the moon gleamed so brilliantly that night...
Omori simply lays on the cold grass below, silently pondering what she just felt.
Isaac sits next to her "are you cloudwatching?"
She jolts upright, shaken from her thoughts by his voice. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I just was looking at the sky while... while thinking of something, is all."
He nods "it's peaceful today"
"Yeah, it's really nice out." She seems partly distracted by something.
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)
Allison is playing her lute on a small stage in the tavern, with people dropping coins into a small wooden box at her feet. She sings beautifully about worlds unknown. She is dressed in a white shoulderless blouse with a black corset over top and a long black skirt.
Alix is in the tavern, eating his lunch which is a lunch meal for about 10 people. He is dressed in a black tanktop and brown shorts. His tail wags happily as he devours it with little hesitation.
Stroth is standing before a salt circle, summoning demons to use for her bidding later. She hums to herself as she does, as if happy at summoning evils from the depths of the abyss.
Riotan wanders over to her. “I knew I felt an abyssal communion around here somewhere.”
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.
Allison is playing her lute on a small stage in the tavern, with people dropping coins into a small wooden box at her feet. She sings beautifully about worlds unknown. She is dressed in a white shoulderless blouse with a black corset over top and a long black skirt.
The Jester watches from a corner of the tavern, watching their fingers move across the lute, mirroring their movements, although not playing themselves. They begin to make a song in their mind, the notes swirling around them magically. His mask smiling with a happy madness.
Allison is playing her lute on a small stage in the tavern, with people dropping coins into a small wooden box at her feet. She sings beautifully about worlds unknown. She is dressed in a white shoulderless blouse with a black corset over top and a long black skirt.
Alix is in the tavern, eating his lunch which is a lunch meal for about 10 people. He is dressed in a black tanktop and brown shorts. His tail wags happily as he devours it with little hesitation.
Stroth is standing before a salt circle, summoning demons to use for her bidding later. She hums to herself as she does, as if happy at summoning evils from the depths of the abyss.
Riotan wanders over to her. “I knew I felt an abyssal communion around here somewhere.”
"I was bored. Wanted to do something fun" She grins.
Riotan is carving a new pattern into the palm of his left hand.
The Seer has returned, trying to enter the Inn and failing. Thirteen could probably sense that the being trying to enter is an eldritch one, suffused in energy reminiscent of the Shadowfell, but nothing else.
He immediately wakes up, looking panicked. “He’s here. It worked. I still have time.” He grabs his flail, journal, and holy symbols of Azuth, Mystra, and Jergal. From his satchel he takes an elvish sword of great antiquity, and charges outside, preparing his strongest defensive spells.
When he arrives, he sees the Seer- probably not the one Thirteen was expecting- attempting to brute-force her way through the barrier. She almost immediately notices him, locking eyes with him.
"I take it you're the one who set these wards up?"
He sighs, tucking echo cutter back into his satchel. “Yes. I mistook you for another. Give me a moment…” He wearily takes out his vial of green dragon blood and begins revising the sigils.
She growls something to herself upon hearing that the sigils were made by him, but quickly assumes an almost too friendly demeanor, grinning and revealing her many, many sharp fangs.
"Well, I'm somewhat new to here, and I was hoping that you could let me pass through. You know, to meet the neighbors, so to speak."
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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The Seer has returned, trying to enter the Inn and failing. Thirteen could probably sense that the being trying to enter is an eldritch one, suffused in energy reminiscent of the Shadowfell, but nothing else.
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)
*You offended me too*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Isaac sits next to her "are you cloudwatching?"
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
*Im hungry and i didnt have an salt packets.*
*I was hungry :[*
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
(but why would you use [GP] ketchup]
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
She jolts upright, shaken from her thoughts by his voice. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I just was looking at the sky while... while thinking of something, is all."
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)
*SO IT HAD FLAVOR- [SOBS]*
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
(that is so cursed)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
He immediately wakes up, looking panicked. “He’s here. It worked. I still have time.” He grabs his flail, journal, and holy symbols of Azuth, Mystra, and Jergal. From his satchel he takes an elvish sword of great antiquity, and charges outside, preparing his strongest defensive spells.
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 nods "it's peaceful today"
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
When he arrives, he sees the Seer- probably not the one Thirteen was expecting- attempting to brute-force her way through the barrier. She almost immediately notices him, locking eyes with him.
"I take it you're the one who set these wards up?"
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)
*That is heresy of the highest order.*
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.)
*Anyway does anyone want to roleplay?*
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.)
Allison is playing her lute on a small stage in the tavern, with people dropping coins into a small wooden box at her feet. She sings beautifully about worlds unknown. She is dressed in a white shoulderless blouse with a black corset over top and a long black skirt.
Alix is in the tavern, eating his lunch which is a lunch meal for about 10 people. He is dressed in a black tanktop and brown shorts. His tail wags happily as he devours it with little hesitation.
Stroth is standing before a salt circle, summoning demons to use for her bidding later. She hums to herself as she does, as if happy at summoning evils from the depths of the abyss.
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 sighs, tucking echo cutter back into his satchel. “Yes. I mistook you for another. Give me a moment…” He wearily takes out his vial of green dragon blood and begins revising the sigils.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Yeah, it's really nice out." She seems partly distracted by something.
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)
Riotan wanders over to her. “I knew I felt an abyssal communion around here somewhere.”
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 Jester watches from a corner of the tavern, watching their fingers move across the lute, mirroring their movements, although not playing themselves. They begin to make a song in their mind, the notes swirling around them magically. His mask smiling with a happy madness.
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 was bored. Wanted to do something fun" She grins.
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
She growls something to herself upon hearing that the sigils were made by him, but quickly assumes an almost too friendly demeanor, grinning and revealing her many, many sharp fangs.
"Well, I'm somewhat new to here, and I was hoping that you could let me pass through. You know, to meet the neighbors, so to speak."
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)