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?"
"Who are you to ask me this?" He asks
(can you check your pms?)
"why did you get defensive when I asked?"
*Ack- yerp!*
"Because I get tired of everyone always asking what I am doing. They really should keep to themselves."
"you're a lich, I think I am justified to ask questions"
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.
Thirteen is looking for her urgently.
Mauric is up on the roof, taking down old shingles. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks her.
He can hear quiet sobbing outside in the forest.
She blinks "Here I thought no one would be up here at this time of night..."
He follows the sound to its source, taking out his flail.
“Well, neither did I, but the roof here has a lot of foot traffic and it’s been a windy month.” He says, smiling.
He finds Allison at her daughter's grave, weeping.
"Mn." She folds her arms "What do you want then? Just to hear my woes?"
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.
They laugh, cold and filled with madness “That is adorable, you really do care about Rowan don’t you?” The wrist begins to twist unnaturally, sharp cracks being heard.
She snarls "I do care for him. I care for him more than I care for anybody else. I care for him more than I care about myself. Don't hurt your host."
An unnatural smile spreads across the mask, leaking more ichor, “Oh, that almost makes me want to break him, just because you care so much, but I won’t.” The wrist fixes itself.
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?"
"Who are you to ask me this?" He asks
(can you check your pms?)
"why did you get defensive when I asked?"
*Ack- yerp!*
"Because I get tired of everyone always asking what I am doing. They really should keep to themselves."
"you're a lich, I think I am justified to ask questions"
"Unfortunately, you are not." He chuckles
"why not?"
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
"Understandable. Sometimes it's nice to get away from all the action and take a moment to unwind a bit." She absently dislodges a shingle from the roof and begins sharpening the claws on her other hand against its surface. Occasionally sparks fly from where the metal scrapes against it.
"you probably shouldn't remove people's shingles," He comments
"Ah, right." She slots the shingle back into place with some difficulty.
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.
Thirteen is looking for her urgently.
Mauric is up on the roof, taking down old shingles. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks her.
He can hear quiet sobbing outside in the forest.
She blinks "Here I thought no one would be up here at this time of night..."
He follows the sound to its source, taking out his flail.
“Well, neither did I, but the roof here has a lot of foot traffic and it’s been a windy month.” He says, smiling.
He finds Allison at her daughter's grave, weeping.
"Mn." She folds her arms "What do you want then? Just to hear my woes?"
Thirteen stands at a distance from the scene, not wanting to interfere, trying to discern what’s going on exactly.
“Well I’ve been told I’m a good listener. And when you try and present a problem to another person, you often end up talking your way to the solution.”
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.
"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?"
They remain silent for another few moment a before saying “So you don’t want me to kill them all, I have my vessel, I won’t kill anyone else. I shall remain concealed, I will not be seen, by you, nor anyone else. The Hunters won’t find anything on me, because I won’t be here to be seen. Is that fine with you Charlie?”
They nod, then lean close. "If this moron ends up disappearing, they'll come looking. If they think he's possessed, they'll come find you. Do this right, because I have access to their records, and if they find you, I will be right behind them, and you will wish they were the ones in charge of dealing with you." They stand up and walk off. "Toddle on. Don't let me catch you making mistakes. I'm quite the tyrant." They giggle. The ghouls follow.
Rowan’s body picks up the mask and the lute as they walk away, putting the mask back on. “Oh I am not very afraid of you Charlie, but we will have to see how things go.” They walk away, slowly letting Rowan control his body once more.
They nod, then lean close. "If this moron ends up disappearing, they'll come looking. If they think he's possessed, they'll come find you. Do this right, because I have access to their records, and if they find you, I will be right behind them, and you will wish they were the ones in charge of dealing with you." They stand up and walk off. "Toddle on. Don't let me catch you making mistakes. I'm quite the tyrant." They giggle. The ghouls follow.
Rowan’s body picks up the mask and the lute as they walk away, putting the mask back on. “Oh I am not very afraid of you Charlie, but we will have to see how things go.” They walk away, slowly letting Rowan control his body once more.
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.
They laugh, cold and filled with madness “That is adorable, you really do care about Rowan don’t you?” The wrist begins to twist unnaturally, sharp cracks being heard.
She snarls "I do care for him. I care for him more than I care for anybody else. I care for him more than I care about myself. Don't hurt your host."
An unnatural smile spreads across the mask, leaking more ichor, “Oh, that almost makes me want to break him, just because you care so much, but I won’t.” The wrist fixes itself.
She looks like she is about to say something, to yell at him, but she begins to choke. Black bile pours from her mouth, the ground sizzling with it as it sees into the dirt, destroying everything it touches. She coughs violently, trying to expel it from her system but she can't stop it.
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?"
"Who are you to ask me this?" He asks
(can you check your pms?)
"why did you get defensive when I asked?"
*Ack- yerp!*
"Because I get tired of everyone always asking what I am doing. They really should keep to themselves."
"you're a lich, I think I am justified to ask questions"
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.
They laugh, cold and filled with madness “That is adorable, you really do care about Rowan don’t you?” The wrist begins to twist unnaturally, sharp cracks being heard.
She snarls "I do care for him. I care for him more than I care for anybody else. I care for him more than I care about myself. Don't hurt your host."
An unnatural smile spreads across the mask, leaking more ichor, “Oh, that almost makes me want to break him, just because you care so much, but I won’t.” The wrist fixes itself.
She looks like she is about to say something, to yell at him, but she begins to choke. Black bile pours from her mouth, the ground sizzling with it as it sees into the dirt, destroying everything it touches. She coughs violently, trying to expel it from her system but she can't stop it.
For a moment the eyes change color, and Rowan tears the mask off his face by force, his skin burning a bit and some of it torn off by the Ichor. He moves to her, holding her with sobbing eyes, begins to do his best to try and help her expel the bile, his face bleeding and smelling of burning.
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.
Thirteen is looking for her urgently.
Mauric is up on the roof, taking down old shingles. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks her.
He can hear quiet sobbing outside in the forest.
She blinks "Here I thought no one would be up here at this time of night..."
He follows the sound to its source, taking out his flail.
“Well, neither did I, but the roof here has a lot of foot traffic and it’s been a windy month.” He says, smiling.
He finds Allison at her daughter's grave, weeping.
"Mn." She folds her arms "What do you want then? Just to hear my woes?"
Thirteen stands at a distance from the scene, not wanting to interfere, trying to discern what’s going on exactly.
“Well I’ve been told I’m a good listener. And when you try and present a problem to another person, you often end up talking your way to the solution.”
He begins to see her choke, the tattoo on the back of her neck hissing and burning her skin like a brand.
"There is this man. We have known each other for awhile now. I enjoy his company and he enjoys mine however, today he has professed his love to me. I don't really have a good grasp on emotions so.. you know."
They nod, then lean close. "If this moron ends up disappearing, they'll come looking. If they think he's possessed, they'll come find you. Do this right, because I have access to their records, and if they find you, I will be right behind them, and you will wish they were the ones in charge of dealing with you." They stand up and walk off. "Toddle on. Don't let me catch you making mistakes. I'm quite the tyrant." They giggle. The ghouls follow.
Rowan’s body picks up the mask and the lute as they walk away, putting the mask back on. “Oh I am not very afraid of you Charlie, but we will have to see how things go.” They walk away, slowly letting Rowan control his body once more.
*Rowan is definitely going to get Akumatized.*
*What? A reference I actually don’t get, huh, rare.*
*Epic! I'm so glad that I've created something that engages you so much.*
"Well, I'd be happy to tell you. See, when you eat a Spectre, they become part of you. Effectively, they cease to be their own unique entity. But my Stigmorta changes that rule. When I eat a Spectre, I keep their soul, or souls, depending on the power level of the individual Spectre. So, because I am an excellent cook and have the occult skills to kill Spectres manually, even in the afterlife, I was picked to be the executioner for the Sovereign Spectre. They did not know about my Stigmorta. So I was supposed to prepare the criminals to be eaten by the Sovereign. But I ate little bits myself, little morsels, and I saved the souls of the convicts that way. I try to let them out as much as possible, since living in my stomach prison isn't very fulfilling, I don't believe."
*I'm loving how our ideas are blending together for these characters! I didn't initially plan for them to both get Hawk-Mothed, but the opportunity felt too fun to pass up. I'm excited to see where this leads!*
"Interesting. I wasn't aware that there was a Sovereign before- well, I don't think I was, anyway. This is all so interesting...."
*I love coming up with wild Spectres to fit our needs. I hope other players want to engage at some point. I'm gonna have to finish up with the "heroes" soon in order to introduce them to forcefully advance the plot.*
"It is, I guess. I'm glad that you're interested in learning about the culture. But even I don't know everything about what goes on down there. We're still learning about all the metaphysics, you know? It's a science and an art. Ever evolving, always phasing rules in and out as people realize that their theories were false... I try to keep up with the curve, but I'm banned from the Afterlife for my numerous failures to catch a certain group of Hunters."
*Ooh, sounds like fun! I look forward to playing Traitor as a sort of anti-hero and Kiko as more of an anti-villain so they can do more shenanigans!*
"Hunters? Hunters of what?"
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 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.
They laugh, cold and filled with madness “That is adorable, you really do care about Rowan don’t you?” The wrist begins to twist unnaturally, sharp cracks being heard.
She snarls "I do care for him. I care for him more than I care for anybody else. I care for him more than I care about myself. Don't hurt your host."
An unnatural smile spreads across the mask, leaking more ichor, “Oh, that almost makes me want to break him, just because you care so much, but I won’t.” The wrist fixes itself.
She looks like she is about to say something, to yell at him, but she begins to choke. Black bile pours from her mouth, the ground sizzling with it as it sees into the dirt, destroying everything it touches. She coughs violently, trying to expel it from her system but she can't stop it.
For a moment the eyes change color, and Rowan tears the mask off his face by force, his skin burning a bit and some of it torn off by the Ichor. He moves to her, holding her with sobbing eyes, begins to do his best to try and help her expel the bile, his face bleeding and smelling of burning.
She coughs what seems to be the last of it out, inhaling deeply to try and refill her lungs with air.
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.
They laugh, cold and filled with madness “That is adorable, you really do care about Rowan don’t you?” The wrist begins to twist unnaturally, sharp cracks being heard.
She snarls "I do care for him. I care for him more than I care for anybody else. I care for him more than I care about myself. Don't hurt your host."
An unnatural smile spreads across the mask, leaking more ichor, “Oh, that almost makes me want to break him, just because you care so much, but I won’t.” The wrist fixes itself.
She looks like she is about to say something, to yell at him, but she begins to choke. Black bile pours from her mouth, the ground sizzling with it as it sees into the dirt, destroying everything it touches. She coughs violently, trying to expel it from her system but she can't stop it.
For a moment the eyes change color, and Rowan tears the mask off his face by force, his skin burning a bit and some of it torn off by the Ichor. He moves to her, holding her with sobbing eyes, begins to do his best to try and help her expel the bile, his face bleeding and smelling of burning.
She coughs what seems to be the last of it out, inhaling deeply to try and refill her lungs with air.
He continues to hold her, tears fallin from his face onto her, his voice sincere “I’m so so so so sorry, I can’t believe I let this happen.” He holds her face “Tell me! What’s happening to you?!”
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Scott is grumbling about Tycho, trying to escape the others grip.
Kelipso is messing with Jason's hair, Gordon laying his head on Jason's knee.
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
"Unfortunately, you are not." He chuckles
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 finds Allison at her daughter's grave, weeping.
"Mn." She folds her arms "What do you want then? Just to hear my woes?"
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
An unnatural smile spreads across the mask, leaking more ichor, “Oh, that almost makes me want to break him, just because you care so much, but I won’t.” The wrist fixes itself.
"why not?"
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
"That should be fine" he nods
Thirteen stands at a distance from the scene, not wanting to interfere, trying to discern what’s going on exactly.
“Well I’ve been told I’m a good listener. And when you try and present a problem to another person, you often end up talking your way to the solution.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Rowan’s body picks up the mask and the lute as they walk away, putting the mask back on. “Oh I am not very afraid of you Charlie, but we will have to see how things go.” They walk away, slowly letting Rowan control his body once more.
*Rowan is definitely going to get Akumatized.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She looks like she is about to say something, to yell at him, but she begins to choke. Black bile pours from her mouth, the ground sizzling with it as it sees into the dirt, destroying everything it touches. She coughs violently, trying to expel it from her system but she can't stop it.
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
Tycho is refusing to let go, partially in his lap to annoy him the most
Jason hums, enjoying this, lightly petting gordon
"Because I don't care." He smiles
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
For a moment the eyes change color, and Rowan tears the mask off his face by force, his skin burning a bit and some of it torn off by the Ichor. He moves to her, holding her with sobbing eyes, begins to do his best to try and help her expel the bile, his face bleeding and smelling of burning.
He begins to see her choke, the tattoo on the back of her neck hissing and burning her skin like a brand.
"There is this man. We have known each other for awhile now. I enjoy his company and he enjoys mine however, today he has professed his love to me. I don't really have a good grasp on emotions so.. you know."
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
*What? A reference I actually don’t get, huh, rare.*
Scott sighs "Fine fine, what do you want?"
"Ya feeling okay?" He asks.
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
*Ooh, sounds like fun! I look forward to playing Traitor as a sort of anti-hero and Kiko as more of an anti-villain so they can do more shenanigans!*
"Hunters? Hunters of what?"
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 coughs what seems to be the last of it out, inhaling deeply to try and refill her lungs with air.
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
"Hm?" he looks up
"Much better with you here again," he smiles
He continues to hold her, tears fallin from his face onto her, his voice sincere “I’m so so so so sorry, I can’t believe I let this happen.” He holds her face “Tell me! What’s happening to you?!”