Lord's Rest Inn

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 "Nice. You would have done that anyway. Whether you follow through or not determines whether I trap you and take your power for my own, or just destroy you. It's your guess which fate I've deemed worse." They don't move at all. They don't have a hint of distress in their voice. "Your killing is getting in my way. You know I don't take kindly to that."

 The Mask seems to go silent for a moment, Rowan’s possessed body stopping for a moment, after a few seconds the body collapses. The Mask finally speaks back up “I won’t get in your way as long as you are here, as long as you let me go without harm to me or my vessel.” They seems be in a talking mood more than a moment ago.

 "I don't think you get what I'm saying. Your entire modus operandi is a threat to my organization. I can get you a corpse or something. A homunculus. Whatever. But you going around possessing people brings Hunters to my doorstep. They're less like the Foundation and more... the GOC. Fanatical, omnicidal zealots trying to maintain an outdated system of normalcy. They'll kill all of us, you included. And I can't have that just yet. Do you understand where I'm coming from now?"

*cut*

“But I daren’t say too much. What grants you the fluidity of form that you possess?”

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*TIME TO CAUSE CHAOS-*

Allison stumbles around outside, covering her muffled screams with her hand. The tattoo burns into her neck like a brand. She sobs quietly, black bile smudged around the corner of her mouth. She spits it out on to the ground, stumbling to her daughters grave. 

Stroth, not knowing how to feel about Sparrow's profession of love, is pacing around the top of the tavern, thinking. She hasn't been in live for awhile, kinda smothering her emotions to become a better... everything really. She thinks she likes him but love seems like a word so foreign to her own ears. 

Sable is walking around the property of the tavern, carving sigils expertly into trees, stones, and the ground. He hums to himself as he does, the Archlich seeming happy almost.

 (PM?)

Isaac is in the main room having a drink

 He smells the scent of undead filling the room, or perhaps it's something more. Something different than undead but not quite something else.

 He tries to find the source of the smell

 He sees Sable outside, the smell getting stronger from the ground he is drawing. 

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*TIME TO CAUSE CHAOS-*

Allison stumbles around outside, covering her muffled screams with her hand. The tattoo burns into her neck like a brand. She sobs quietly, black bile smudged around the corner of her mouth. She spits it out on to the ground, stumbling to her daughter’s grave. 

 They see Rowan, the mask on their face, a different air to their very being, some kind of black Ichor dipping from the mask’s eyes, the smell of burning flesh coming from the Ichor, as well as his body itself. He seems completely different, like he’s someone new.

 Allison looks over, almost jumping from getting startled like that. "Oh.. Hello Rowan." She covers her mouth.

 A near identical black bile drips from his eyes, the eyes pitch black, they tilt their head, speaking but their voice isn’t exactly Rowan’s “You think Rowan is still here? He told you about the voices.”

 With a quick flick of her wrist, a rapier is now in hand. She looks a mess, black bile dripping down her chin and burning the ground, sweaty from her body being attacked by the brand on her neck. "Where is he. What have you done with him."

 They reach up with a sharp nail, practically a claw, putting it to his temple “He is in here somewhere, and he’s watching. He wants to be free, he doesn’t want me near you.” The claw begins to dig into his flesh, blood dripping from the wound “He thinks that you should never have to see me, but it’s far too late for that.”

 Without even thinking, she reaches out, grabbing their wrist and pulling it away from the wound. "Don't do that." She hisses.

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*Wendi, ya wanna continue or shall i make a new interaction? :>*

 *Yes please, I am sorry for not responding. I got caught up doing angst.*

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*TIME TO CAUSE CHAOS-*

Allison stumbles around outside, covering her muffled screams with her hand. The tattoo burns into her neck like a brand. She sobs quietly, black bile smudged around the corner of her mouth. She spits it out on to the ground, stumbling to her daughters grave. 

Stroth, not knowing how to feel about Sparrow's profession of love, is pacing around the top of the tavern, thinking. She hasn't been in live for awhile, kinda smothering her emotions to become a better... everything really. She thinks she likes him but love seems like a word so foreign to her own ears. 

Sable is walking around the property of the tavern, carving sigils expertly into trees, stones, and the ground. He hums to himself as he does, the Archlich seeming happy almost.

 (PM?)

Isaac is in the main room having a drink

 He smells the scent of undead filling the room, or perhaps it's something more. Something different than undead but not quite something else.

 He tries to find the source of the smell

 He sees Sable outside, the smell getting stronger from the ground he is drawing. 

 "what are you doing?"