By the lake is what looks to be a humanoid, kneeling on the bank and gripping the earth. Its flesh is pale and semi-transparent, bleeding blue-green bioluminescence onto the ground. Rag has never seen anything like it, even in the depths of the ocean, assuming he's been there.
It screams in agony as it rips a fish hook from a flap of flesh, tossing it aside before burying its hairless head in its arms, moaning and sobbing.
This thing should not be.
He walks to the creature, playing his things down as he approaches, leaning down to them his eyes soft with understanding and worry. He tries to assess the situation, thinking of what he can possibly do for them, though what he can do is likely very limited.
It places a twisted claw on his shin, not to harm, but simply to feel him. It looks up with pitch-black eyes and begins to vocalize a choked, inhuman noise. Deep Speech. But in Rag's head, he can hear his son as a young boy, the equivalent of a six-year-old human, pained and afraid. "What is this place? What are you? Why does it hurt so much?"
It takes a moment, but Rag realizes that his mind is processing its voice based on the emotional signals it's giving him. Something that needs to be protected and cared for. Desperate for any sort of succor.
This is either a child or a parasite, and either one is a terrifying thought.
He reaches out with his arms, taking it within them, holding it comfortingly “It hurts, but it won’t forever. I’m here, I’m here.” He rocks the child softly, he keeps his scales at a gentle warmth, speaking in Deep Speech back to them, though his words are much more crude.
Damian is now wearing a fake mustache and is considering cutting his hair as he serves up meals in the morning.
Merabelle happens to be taking part in the Druidic side of herself, her soft brown hair tied into braids, his overalls stained by the grass and paint.
Mauric is at the bar, still looking fraught and fretful. “You probably should shear off your horns if you really want them to not find you.”
Loud metallic clanging echoes throughout the woods.
He takes a second to think about it before saying “Yeah you’re probably right.” He grabs a large knife, feeling for his horns “You shouldn’t be afraid though, just stop being my friend and you’re safe.”
Merabelle decides to investigate, moving through the forest with quick, light steps.
“No no I was kidding!” He says hurriedly. “And I’m not gonna leave you in this mess all by yourself. Not a chance.”
Loriche is trying to work on Charlie’s new umbrella, but the metal is proving difficult to render properly.
He puts the knife down slowly “You should, you saw me back there, I’m crazy, a monster, and you shouldn’t be pulled back into my mistakes.”
She walks over, looking over Loriche’s shoulder, making her presence known as to not appear unfriendly. She seems curious.
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*Noctis could interact with one of your other characters*
*What vibes would you want to deal with Noctis? Rag maybe.*
*I'd be good with that*
Rag is walking around the forest, a bag carrying all of his things over his shoulder, as he whistles to himself, happy just to exist every day.
A hundred feet or so away, someone steps out of the shadows, looking around. He appears to be a young man stands 6'2" tall in a black and gold jacket, an undershirt with a demonic symbol of the sin of pride in rainbow color, and blue jeans. His hair is black and wild, with two large black demon horns sticking up and red slitted eyes observing the area around him. His nose and mouth, lowers arms and hands, and lower legs and feet are covered in darkness that give the man a more half-demon look.
With a boom of sound Rag is suddenly standing there, leaning down to be eye level with them, a friendly smile in his face, “Hello, you’re a demon right?” He sounds friendly, because he has nothing to fear.
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*sure!*
A mysterious salesman has appeared at the inn, hawking about a new product that revolutionizes golem technology
Damian walks outside to check out the salesman, raising an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
He continues his shpeil to nobody in particular, waiting for someone to get interested enough that he can move in for the sale
He sighs, walking over to them “Hey, Damian Alterious. What are you going on about?” He says, smiling charismatically, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
"Well, you see, I've made a breakthrough regarding golems! How would you like to have a personal assistant? One that doesn't sleep, eat, and doesn't leave clay residue on everything? I present to you, the dollem ~cough~name pending~cough~" He lifts a cloth up as if concealing something, and when he drops it, a human-like figure of baked clay is there. If it weren't for their unpainted appearance and visible joints, they could pass for a human, maybe.
He looks at the clay golem, “You want to sell a golem out of clay? An interesting proposition, are they willing to do anything someone else can do? Also you need a much better name. I would be happy to help you along with that, but I don’t have much that I’ll likely need help with.”
"No man is an island, you know." he continues selling "Some may argue that baked clay defeats the entire purpose of a golem, but I ensure you, we thought out everything. You see, the clay that this golem is constructed from is cured in a very special way. A little bit of magical encouragement..." he summons a purple magic flame and holds it to the golem's ear, making the thing wince and reel. "Stay still!" he instructs it, forming its ear into a pointed shape. "You can mold it however you'd like! Of course, we do make them to order depending on what their purpose will be. A golem made to wait on guests will have to be made differently from a golem that is used to mine"
“I don’t believe I need one, though I never claimed to be an island. I wouldn’t nearly be where I am today if it weren’t for Mauric, or my wife and daughter. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, any who can buy anything from someone when they don’t even know your name?”
It places a twisted claw on his shin, not to harm, but simply to feel him. It looks up with pitch-black eyes and begins to vocalize a choked, inhuman noise. Deep Speech. But in Rag's head, he can hear his son as a young boy, the equivalent of a six-year-old human, pained and afraid. "What is this place? What are you? Why does it hurt so much?"
It takes a moment, but Rag realizes that his mind is processing its voice based on the emotional signals it's giving him. Something that needs to be protected and cared for. Desperate for any sort of succor.
This is either a child or a parasite, and either one is a terrifying thought.
He reaches out with his arms, taking it within them, holding it comfortingly “It hurts, but it won’t forever. I’m here, I’m here.” He rocks the child softly, he keeps his scales at a gentle warmth, speaking in Deep Speech back to them, though his words are much more crude.
The adult-sized aberration curls up against him. "I'm so scared... I don't think my family made it..." It whimpers.
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.
It places a twisted claw on his shin, not to harm, but simply to feel him. It looks up with pitch-black eyes and begins to vocalize a choked, inhuman noise. Deep Speech. But in Rag's head, he can hear his son as a young boy, the equivalent of a six-year-old human, pained and afraid. "What is this place? What are you? Why does it hurt so much?"
It takes a moment, but Rag realizes that his mind is processing its voice based on the emotional signals it's giving him. Something that needs to be protected and cared for. Desperate for any sort of succor.
This is either a child or a parasite, and either one is a terrifying thought.
He reaches out with his arms, taking it within them, holding it comfortingly “It hurts, but it won’t forever. I’m here, I’m here.” He rocks the child softly, he keeps his scales at a gentle warmth, speaking in Deep Speech back to them, though his words are much more crude.
The adult-sized aberration curls up against him. "I'm so scared... I don't think my family made it..." It whimpers.
“You don’t know that just yet. Don’t worry, I’m here, when I’m here you don’t have to be afraid.” He rubs their back comfortingly, “ It will all be okay.”
The adult-sized aberration curls up against him. "I'm so scared... I don't think my family made it..." It whimpers.
“You don’t know that just yet. Don’t worry, I’m here, when I’m here you don’t have to be afraid.” He rubs their back comfortingly, “ It will all be okay.”
It closes its pitch-black eyes and places its claw on his hand. This entity's hands were not made to hold tools or weapons, but to mangle and tear, but its muscles are built for speed. A contradiction of biology. It's likely no physically stronger than a human infant. "They were all so soft... Father dreamed them fluid and gentle... soft, thoughtful jelly-things. Maybe it's for the best that they never meet The Beach..." It looks up at Rag. "I am... Hadal... heir to the Depths... I... thank you..." It seems to be slowly processing the situation.
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.
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*sure!*
A mysterious salesman has appeared at the inn, hawking about a new product that revolutionizes golem technology
Damian walks outside to check out the salesman, raising an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
He continues his shpeil to nobody in particular, waiting for someone to get interested enough that he can move in for the sale
He sighs, walking over to them “Hey, Damian Alterious. What are you going on about?” He says, smiling charismatically, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
"Well, you see, I've made a breakthrough regarding golems! How would you like to have a personal assistant? One that doesn't sleep, eat, and doesn't leave clay residue on everything? I present to you, the dollem ~cough~name pending~cough~" He lifts a cloth up as if concealing something, and when he drops it, a human-like figure of baked clay is there. If it weren't for their unpainted appearance and visible joints, they could pass for a human, maybe.
He looks at the clay golem, “You want to sell a golem out of clay? An interesting proposition, are they willing to do anything someone else can do? Also you need a much better name. I would be happy to help you along with that, but I don’t have much that I’ll likely need help with.”
"No man is an island, you know." he continues selling "Some may argue that baked clay defeats the entire purpose of a golem, but I ensure you, we thought out everything. You see, the clay that this golem is constructed from is cured in a very special way. A little bit of magical encouragement..." he summons a purple magic flame and holds it to the golem's ear, making the thing wince and reel. "Stay still!" he instructs it, forming its ear into a pointed shape. "You can mold it however you'd like! Of course, we do make them to order depending on what their purpose will be. A golem made to wait on guests will have to be made differently from a golem that is used to mine"
“I don’t believe I need one, though I never claimed to be an island. I wouldn’t nearly be where I am today if it weren’t for Mauric, or my wife and daughter. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, any who can buy anything from someone when they don’t even know your name?”
"My name is Mathide, craftsman and peddler of the most special things" he leans on the golem who, being around five foot eight and being leaned on by a 6'4 tabaxi, seems to struggle under the weight but not crack or break.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles) Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose
Damian is now wearing a fake mustache and is considering cutting his hair as he serves up meals in the morning.
Merabelle happens to be taking part in the Druidic side of herself, her soft brown hair tied into braids, his overalls stained by the grass and paint.
Mauric is at the bar, still looking fraught and fretful. “You probably should shear off your horns if you really want them to not find you.”
Loud metallic clanging echoes throughout the woods.
He takes a second to think about it before saying “Yeah you’re probably right.” He grabs a large knife, feeling for his horns “You shouldn’t be afraid though, just stop being my friend and you’re safe.”
Merabelle decides to investigate, moving through the forest with quick, light steps.
“No no I was kidding!” He says hurriedly. “And I’m not gonna leave you in this mess all by yourself. Not a chance.”
Loriche is trying to work on Charlie’s new umbrella, but the metal is proving difficult to render properly.
He puts the knife down slowly “You should, you saw me back there, I’m crazy, a monster, and you shouldn’t be pulled back into my mistakes.”
She walks over, looking over Loriche’s shoulder, making her presence known as to not appear unfriendly. She seems curious.
“Just because I’m your friend does not mean I’m your accomplice. I’ve done crazy things in my life, but I don’t push people away. And you can’t keep me from associating with you if you want to or not.” He responds fiercely.
Loriche doesn’t notice her, pounding the slag off of the molded blade.
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.
The adult-sized aberration curls up against him. "I'm so scared... I don't think my family made it..." It whimpers.
“You don’t know that just yet. Don’t worry, I’m here, when I’m here you don’t have to be afraid.” He rubs their back comfortingly, “ It will all be okay.”
It closes its pitch-black eyes and places its claw on his hand. This entity's hands were not made to hold tools or weapons, but to mangle and tear, but its muscles are built for speed. A contradiction of biology. It's likely no physically stronger than a human infant. "They were all so soft... Father dreamed them fluid and gentle... soft, thoughtful jelly-things. Maybe it's for the best that they never meet The Beach..." It looks up at Rag. "I am... Hadal... heir to the Depths... I... thank you..." It seems to be slowly processing the situation.
He nods slowly, continuing to rock them “Do not thank me, we must take time. Hadal, I am Ragnerious.” They eventually put them down carefully onto their pile of clothes, worrying about the child creature that is this being.
By the lake is what looks to be a humanoid, lying on the bank and wrapped in a net. Its flesh is pale and semi-transparent, bleeding blue-green bioluminescence onto the ground where the creature has been cut by the rope. Its pitch-black eyes are squeezed shut under translucent eyelids as it tries to shield itself from the light, sobbing and wailing.
This thing, this abomination, should not exist on this plane. It likely should not exist period. A nightmare made flesh.
As the creature reaches where the trees end and the lake begins, the singing softens to a delicate and gentle tone, as large roots begin to rise up and created a dome around the fish creature to shield it from the sun. Smalls thorny vines begin to snake their way up between the netting, gently slicing individual sections as the net begins to fall off. A blanket of lichin begins to cover the cuts and scraps on the creature's body, acting as a natural form a bandaging. Through the singing, whispering words the abomination can understand echos. "Calm your soul strange child, you are alright within my song."
It gasps, its strained voice free from pain and grief. It shudders, whispering in Deep Speech. Its voice is that of a frail child in the being's head, but in the physical world, it sounds more like a wizened man. The two voices contrast somewhat disturbingly. "Thank you... thank you... What is this place? I don't understand... It's so bright and still... Where are my brothers? My sisters? Is this... the real world? Am I awake?"
"You are in a world of, light, physicality, and substances, aberrant child." the voice sings as the creature slowly lowers herself down the branches so the creature can better see her.
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*sure!*
A mysterious salesman has appeared at the inn, hawking about a new product that revolutionizes golem technology
Damian walks outside to check out the salesman, raising an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
He continues his shpeil to nobody in particular, waiting for someone to get interested enough that he can move in for the sale
He sighs, walking over to them “Hey, Damian Alterious. What are you going on about?” He says, smiling charismatically, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
"Well, you see, I've made a breakthrough regarding golems! How would you like to have a personal assistant? One that doesn't sleep, eat, and doesn't leave clay residue on everything? I present to you, the dollem ~cough~name pending~cough~" He lifts a cloth up as if concealing something, and when he drops it, a human-like figure of baked clay is there. If it weren't for their unpainted appearance and visible joints, they could pass for a human, maybe.
He looks at the clay golem, “You want to sell a golem out of clay? An interesting proposition, are they willing to do anything someone else can do? Also you need a much better name. I would be happy to help you along with that, but I don’t have much that I’ll likely need help with.”
"No man is an island, you know." he continues selling "Some may argue that baked clay defeats the entire purpose of a golem, but I ensure you, we thought out everything. You see, the clay that this golem is constructed from is cured in a very special way. A little bit of magical encouragement..." he summons a purple magic flame and holds it to the golem's ear, making the thing wince and reel. "Stay still!" he instructs it, forming its ear into a pointed shape. "You can mold it however you'd like! Of course, we do make them to order depending on what their purpose will be. A golem made to wait on guests will have to be made differently from a golem that is used to mine"
“I don’t believe I need one, though I never claimed to be an island. I wouldn’t nearly be where I am today if it weren’t for Mauric, or my wife and daughter. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, any who can buy anything from someone when they don’t even know your name?”
"My name is Mathide, craftsman and peddler of the most special things" he leans on the golem who, being around five foot eight and being leaned on by a 6'4 tabaxi, seems to struggle under the weight but not crack or break.
He nods “I already introduced myself, and you are showing the durability of your product quite well there, considering it is struggling against the simple pressure of you leaning on it. Unfortunately I’m not interested in your product today, maybe another time though.”
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*Noctis could interact with one of your other characters*
*What vibes would you want to deal with Noctis? Rag maybe.*
*I'd be good with that*
Rag is walking around the forest, a bag carrying all of his things over his shoulder, as he whistles to himself, happy just to exist every day.
A hundred feet or so away, someone steps out of the shadows, looking around. He appears to be a young man stands 6'2" tall in a black and gold jacket, an undershirt with a demonic symbol of the sin of pride in rainbow color, and blue jeans. His hair is black and wild, with two large black demon horns sticking up and red slitted eyes observing the area around him. His nose and mouth, lowers arms and hands, and lower legs and feet are covered in darkness that give the man a more half-demon look.
With a boom of sound Rag is suddenly standing there, leaning down to be eye level with them, a friendly smile in his face, “Hello, you’re a demon right?” He sounds friendly, because he has nothing to fear.
The man jumps, clearly started as his pupils thin to lines that give his eyes a feral appearance, shadowy hands momentarily becoming long claws. Then he takes in the man's appearance and calms a bit, taking a step back. "Half-demon" his voice whispers out.
Damian is now wearing a fake mustache and is considering cutting his hair as he serves up meals in the morning.
Merabelle happens to be taking part in the Druidic side of herself, her soft brown hair tied into braids, his overalls stained by the grass and paint.
Mauric is at the bar, still looking fraught and fretful. “You probably should shear off your horns if you really want them to not find you.”
Loud metallic clanging echoes throughout the woods.
He takes a second to think about it before saying “Yeah you’re probably right.” He grabs a large knife, feeling for his horns “You shouldn’t be afraid though, just stop being my friend and you’re safe.”
Merabelle decides to investigate, moving through the forest with quick, light steps.
“No no I was kidding!” He says hurriedly. “And I’m not gonna leave you in this mess all by yourself. Not a chance.”
Loriche is trying to work on Charlie’s new umbrella, but the metal is proving difficult to render properly.
He puts the knife down slowly “You should, you saw me back there, I’m crazy, a monster, and you shouldn’t be pulled back into my mistakes.”
She walks over, looking over Loriche’s shoulder, making her presence known as to not appear unfriendly. She seems curious.
“Just because I’m your friend does not mean I’m your accomplice. I’ve done crazy things in my life, but I don’t push people away. And you can’t keep me from associating with you if you want to or not.” He responds fiercely.
Loriche doesn’t notice her, pounding the slag off of the molded blade.
“You have a bomb in your pocket.” He says calmly, beginning to serve people once more “You couldn’t stop me from pushing out away if I wanted to. I just think it’s better for you if you aren’t being hunted down by heaven for blowing up their Supreme Courthouse, as well as other things.”
She picks up a rock, tossing it softly enough at Loriche’s head not to cause real damage.
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*sure!*
A mysterious salesman has appeared at the inn, hawking about a new product that revolutionizes golem technology
Damian walks outside to check out the salesman, raising an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
He continues his shpeil to nobody in particular, waiting for someone to get interested enough that he can move in for the sale
He sighs, walking over to them “Hey, Damian Alterious. What are you going on about?” He says, smiling charismatically, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
"Well, you see, I've made a breakthrough regarding golems! How would you like to have a personal assistant? One that doesn't sleep, eat, and doesn't leave clay residue on everything? I present to you, the dollem ~cough~name pending~cough~" He lifts a cloth up as if concealing something, and when he drops it, a human-like figure of baked clay is there. If it weren't for their unpainted appearance and visible joints, they could pass for a human, maybe.
He looks at the clay golem, “You want to sell a golem out of clay? An interesting proposition, are they willing to do anything someone else can do? Also you need a much better name. I would be happy to help you along with that, but I don’t have much that I’ll likely need help with.”
"No man is an island, you know." he continues selling "Some may argue that baked clay defeats the entire purpose of a golem, but I ensure you, we thought out everything. You see, the clay that this golem is constructed from is cured in a very special way. A little bit of magical encouragement..." he summons a purple magic flame and holds it to the golem's ear, making the thing wince and reel. "Stay still!" he instructs it, forming its ear into a pointed shape. "You can mold it however you'd like! Of course, we do make them to order depending on what their purpose will be. A golem made to wait on guests will have to be made differently from a golem that is used to mine"
“I don’t believe I need one, though I never claimed to be an island. I wouldn’t nearly be where I am today if it weren’t for Mauric, or my wife and daughter. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, any who can buy anything from someone when they don’t even know your name?”
"My name is Mathide, craftsman and peddler of the most special things" he leans on the golem who, being around five foot eight and being leaned on by a 6'4 tabaxi, seems to struggle under the weight but not crack or break.
He nods “I already introduced myself, and you are showing the durability of your product quite well there, considering it is struggling against the simple pressure of you leaning on it. Unfortunately I’m not interested in your product today, maybe another time though.”
He seems frustrated, but composes himself. "I assure you, my golems are of the highest quality. This one is simply a display model, and look!" he punches it in the face and other than seeming to be in pain, the golem has taken virtually no damage.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles) Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*Noctis could interact with one of your other characters*
*What vibes would you want to deal with Noctis? Rag maybe.*
*I'd be good with that*
Rag is walking around the forest, a bag carrying all of his things over his shoulder, as he whistles to himself, happy just to exist every day.
A hundred feet or so away, someone steps out of the shadows, looking around. He appears to be a young man stands 6'2" tall in a black and gold jacket, an undershirt with a demonic symbol of the sin of pride in rainbow color, and blue jeans. His hair is black and wild, with two large black demon horns sticking up and red slitted eyes observing the area around him. His nose and mouth, lowers arms and hands, and lower legs and feet are covered in darkness that give the man a more half-demon look.
With a boom of sound Rag is suddenly standing there, leaning down to be eye level with them, a friendly smile in his face, “Hello, you’re a demon right?” He sounds friendly, because he has nothing to fear.
The man jumps, clearly started as his pupils thin to lines that give his eyes a feral appearance, shadowy hands momentarily becoming long claws. Then he takes in the man's appearance and calms a bit, taking a step back. "Half-demon" his voice whispers out.
“Half demon, that’s fun, I’m pretty sure I’m half dragon, still hard to tell, doesn’t matter much to me though, I love my family either way. Also, don’t be scared around me, it wouldn’t help if I was after you. Ragnerious, nice to meet you, you can call me Rag.” He holds out a friendly hand.
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*sure!*
A mysterious salesman has appeared at the inn, hawking about a new product that revolutionizes golem technology
Damian walks outside to check out the salesman, raising an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
He continues his shpeil to nobody in particular, waiting for someone to get interested enough that he can move in for the sale
He sighs, walking over to them “Hey, Damian Alterious. What are you going on about?” He says, smiling charismatically, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
"Well, you see, I've made a breakthrough regarding golems! How would you like to have a personal assistant? One that doesn't sleep, eat, and doesn't leave clay residue on everything? I present to you, the dollem ~cough~name pending~cough~" He lifts a cloth up as if concealing something, and when he drops it, a human-like figure of baked clay is there. If it weren't for their unpainted appearance and visible joints, they could pass for a human, maybe.
He looks at the clay golem, “You want to sell a golem out of clay? An interesting proposition, are they willing to do anything someone else can do? Also you need a much better name. I would be happy to help you along with that, but I don’t have much that I’ll likely need help with.”
"No man is an island, you know." he continues selling "Some may argue that baked clay defeats the entire purpose of a golem, but I ensure you, we thought out everything. You see, the clay that this golem is constructed from is cured in a very special way. A little bit of magical encouragement..." he summons a purple magic flame and holds it to the golem's ear, making the thing wince and reel. "Stay still!" he instructs it, forming its ear into a pointed shape. "You can mold it however you'd like! Of course, we do make them to order depending on what their purpose will be. A golem made to wait on guests will have to be made differently from a golem that is used to mine"
“I don’t believe I need one, though I never claimed to be an island. I wouldn’t nearly be where I am today if it weren’t for Mauric, or my wife and daughter. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, any who can buy anything from someone when they don’t even know your name?”
"My name is Mathide, craftsman and peddler of the most special things" he leans on the golem who, being around five foot eight and being leaned on by a 6'4 tabaxi, seems to struggle under the weight but not crack or break.
He nods “I already introduced myself, and you are showing the durability of your product quite well there, considering it is struggling against the simple pressure of you leaning on it. Unfortunately I’m not interested in your product today, maybe another time though.”
He seems frustrated, but composes himself. "I assure you, my golems are of the highest quality. This one is simply a display model, and look!" he punches it in the face and other than seeming to be in pain, the golem has taken virtually no damage.
“So the golems can feel harm, that doesn’t prove much, you could have been holding back, or have been too weak to cause real damage. Though it doesn’t matter what I think, I’m not buying one either way, I hope we can be friends.” He holds out a hand.
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*Noctis could interact with one of your other characters*
*What vibes would you want to deal with Noctis? Rag maybe.*
*I'd be good with that*
Rag is walking around the forest, a bag carrying all of his things over his shoulder, as he whistles to himself, happy just to exist every day.
A hundred feet or so away, someone steps out of the shadows, looking around. He appears to be a young man stands 6'2" tall in a black and gold jacket, an undershirt with a demonic symbol of the sin of pride in rainbow color, and blue jeans. His hair is black and wild, with two large black demon horns sticking up and red slitted eyes observing the area around him. His nose and mouth, lowers arms and hands, and lower legs and feet are covered in darkness that give the man a more half-demon look.
With a boom of sound Rag is suddenly standing there, leaning down to be eye level with them, a friendly smile in his face, “Hello, you’re a demon right?” He sounds friendly, because he has nothing to fear.
The man jumps, clearly started as his pupils thin to lines that give his eyes a feral appearance, shadowy hands momentarily becoming long claws. Then he takes in the man's appearance and calms a bit, taking a step back. "Half-demon" his voice whispers out.
“Half demon, that’s fun, I’m pretty sure I’m half dragon, still hard to tell, doesn’t matter much to me though, I love my family either way. Also, don’t be scared around me, it wouldn’t help if I was after you. Ragnerious, nice to meet you, you can call me Rag.” He holds out a friendly hand.
The man stares at the hand for a bit, a bit skittish despite his frightening visage. Then, he raises a shadow claw and takes the hand. "The name's Leonardo....but call me Noctis. Helps avoid confusion."
He gives him a firm, but not crushing handshake “Nice to meet you Noctis, you seem strong, though I doubt fighting you would be a wise choice. What brings you to town?”
*Looks like Jobah’s gone, anyone want to roleplay while I’m still here? If so, do you want anyone specific?*
*sure!*
A mysterious salesman has appeared at the inn, hawking about a new product that revolutionizes golem technology
Damian walks outside to check out the salesman, raising an eyebrow as he leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
He continues his shpeil to nobody in particular, waiting for someone to get interested enough that he can move in for the sale
He sighs, walking over to them “Hey, Damian Alterious. What are you going on about?” He says, smiling charismatically, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
"Well, you see, I've made a breakthrough regarding golems! How would you like to have a personal assistant? One that doesn't sleep, eat, and doesn't leave clay residue on everything? I present to you, the dollem ~cough~name pending~cough~" He lifts a cloth up as if concealing something, and when he drops it, a human-like figure of baked clay is there. If it weren't for their unpainted appearance and visible joints, they could pass for a human, maybe.
He looks at the clay golem, “You want to sell a golem out of clay? An interesting proposition, are they willing to do anything someone else can do? Also you need a much better name. I would be happy to help you along with that, but I don’t have much that I’ll likely need help with.”
"No man is an island, you know." he continues selling "Some may argue that baked clay defeats the entire purpose of a golem, but I ensure you, we thought out everything. You see, the clay that this golem is constructed from is cured in a very special way. A little bit of magical encouragement..." he summons a purple magic flame and holds it to the golem's ear, making the thing wince and reel. "Stay still!" he instructs it, forming its ear into a pointed shape. "You can mold it however you'd like! Of course, we do make them to order depending on what their purpose will be. A golem made to wait on guests will have to be made differently from a golem that is used to mine"
“I don’t believe I need one, though I never claimed to be an island. I wouldn’t nearly be where I am today if it weren’t for Mauric, or my wife and daughter. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, any who can buy anything from someone when they don’t even know your name?”
"My name is Mathide, craftsman and peddler of the most special things" he leans on the golem who, being around five foot eight and being leaned on by a 6'4 tabaxi, seems to struggle under the weight but not crack or break.
He nods “I already introduced myself, and you are showing the durability of your product quite well there, considering it is struggling against the simple pressure of you leaning on it. Unfortunately I’m not interested in your product today, maybe another time though.”
He seems frustrated, but composes himself. "I assure you, my golems are of the highest quality. This one is simply a display model, and look!" he punches it in the face and other than seeming to be in pain, the golem has taken virtually no damage.
“So the golems can feel harm, that doesn’t prove much, you could have been holding back, or have been too weak to cause real damage. Though it doesn’t matter what I think, I’m not buying one either way, I hope we can be friends.” He holds out a hand.
"Trust me" he shakes damians hand with a shockingly strong grip. "I've never held back"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles) Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
He reaches out with his arms, taking it within them, holding it comfortingly “It hurts, but it won’t forever. I’m here, I’m here.” He rocks the child softly, he keeps his scales at a gentle warmth, speaking in Deep Speech back to them, though his words are much more crude.
He puts the knife down slowly “You should, you saw me back there, I’m crazy, a monster, and you shouldn’t be pulled back into my mistakes.”
She walks over, looking over Loriche’s shoulder, making her presence known as to not appear unfriendly. She seems curious.
With a boom of sound Rag is suddenly standing there, leaning down to be eye level with them, a friendly smile in his face, “Hello, you’re a demon right?” He sounds friendly, because he has nothing to fear.
“I don’t believe I need one, though I never claimed to be an island. I wouldn’t nearly be where I am today if it weren’t for Mauric, or my wife and daughter. I don’t believe you introduced yourself, any who can buy anything from someone when they don’t even know your name?”
The adult-sized aberration curls up against him. "I'm so scared... I don't think my family made it..." It whimpers.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“You don’t know that just yet. Don’t worry, I’m here, when I’m here you don’t have to be afraid.” He rubs their back comfortingly, “ It will all be okay.”
It closes its pitch-black eyes and places its claw on his hand. This entity's hands were not made to hold tools or weapons, but to mangle and tear, but its muscles are built for speed. A contradiction of biology. It's likely no physically stronger than a human infant. "They were all so soft... Father dreamed them fluid and gentle... soft, thoughtful jelly-things. Maybe it's for the best that they never meet The Beach..." It looks up at Rag. "I am... Hadal... heir to the Depths... I... thank you..." It seems to be slowly processing the situation.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"My name is Mathide, craftsman and peddler of the most special things" he leans on the golem who, being around five foot eight and being leaned on by a 6'4 tabaxi, seems to struggle under the weight but not crack or break.
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles)
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world.
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose
“Just because I’m your friend does not mean I’m your accomplice. I’ve done crazy things in my life, but I don’t push people away. And you can’t keep me from associating with you if you want to or not.” He responds fiercely.
Loriche doesn’t notice her, pounding the slag off of the molded blade.
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 slowly, continuing to rock them “Do not thank me, we must take time. Hadal, I am Ragnerious.” They eventually put them down carefully onto their pile of clothes, worrying about the child creature that is this being.
"You are in a world of, light, physicality, and substances, aberrant child." the voice sings as the creature slowly lowers herself down the branches so the creature can better see her.
He nods “I already introduced myself, and you are showing the durability of your product quite well there, considering it is struggling against the simple pressure of you leaning on it. Unfortunately I’m not interested in your product today, maybe another time though.”
The man jumps, clearly started as his pupils thin to lines that give his eyes a feral appearance, shadowy hands momentarily becoming long claws. Then he takes in the man's appearance and calms a bit, taking a step back. "Half-demon" his voice whispers out.
“You have a bomb in your pocket.” He says calmly, beginning to serve people once more “You couldn’t stop me from pushing out away if I wanted to. I just think it’s better for you if you aren’t being hunted down by heaven for blowing up their Supreme Courthouse, as well as other things.”
She picks up a rock, tossing it softly enough at Loriche’s head not to cause real damage.
He seems frustrated, but composes himself. "I assure you, my golems are of the highest quality. This one is simply a display model, and look!" he punches it in the face and other than seeming to be in pain, the golem has taken virtually no damage.
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles)
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world.
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose
“Half demon, that’s fun, I’m pretty sure I’m half dragon, still hard to tell, doesn’t matter much to me though, I love my family either way. Also, don’t be scared around me, it wouldn’t help if I was after you. Ragnerious, nice to meet you, you can call me Rag.” He holds out a friendly hand.
“So the golems can feel harm, that doesn’t prove much, you could have been holding back, or have been too weak to cause real damage. Though it doesn’t matter what I think, I’m not buying one either way, I hope we can be friends.” He holds out a hand.
The man stares at the hand for a bit, a bit skittish despite his frightening visage. Then, he raises a shadow claw and takes the hand. "The name's Leonardo....but call me Noctis. Helps avoid confusion."
*Cut for Coronet.*
He gives him a firm, but not crushing handshake “Nice to meet you Noctis, you seem strong, though I doubt fighting you would be a wise choice. What brings you to town?”
"Trust me" he shakes damians hand with a shockingly strong grip. "I've never held back"
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles)
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world.
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose