He clicks the blade back into place. "So... you caused a problem, solved it in the most extreme way possible, and were given a title for it?" He spins the cold iron weapon. "Very interesting. Now, what's your deal? What would you say you do here?"
She grimaces. “I was young- and inexperienced… arrogant. I… had moved here shortly before winter began to come… hoping to have found a suitable home for my children. Now, me and my children mostly help travelers lost in the cold…”
He stops the blade with his hand in the most unsafe way imaginable. Even without power, it sprays his filthy mixed blood about a meter across the ground. "Do you name your children?" His voice is calm and level, too blank even to become musical, but his eyes have an intensity that could burn stone.
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.
"Correct. Might explain why it granted me sentience as well as hunger. They left soon after I first awoke, so I wasn't able to see them."
“How cruel… what… uhm, have you done to try and sate this hunger? Surely you haven’t just lived with it for all these centuries?”
"Quite a few things, actually. I got an old Spelljammer operational again, with a handful of modifications, and went off to go collect stars for a while. This greatly annoyed a handful of stellar celestials that heard of my culinary expedition, though. Despite eating several stars and the souls of quasi-deities and their angels... it hasn't helped my hunger in the least."
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)
He clicks the blade back into place. "So... you caused a problem, solved it in the most extreme way possible, and were given a title for it?" He spins the cold iron weapon. "Very interesting. Now, what's your deal? What would you say you do here?"
She grimaces. “I was young- and inexperienced… arrogant. I… had moved here shortly before winter began to come… hoping to have found a suitable home for my children. Now, me and my children mostly help travelers lost in the cold…”
He stops the blade with his hand in the most unsafe way imaginable. Even without power, it sprays his filthy mixed blood about a meter across the ground. "Do you name your children?" His voice is calm and level, too blank even to become musical, but his eyes have an intensity that could burn stone.
She tilts her head, looking at him quizzically, and a bit frightened. She subconsciously takes a step back. “Of course. The ones who don’t already have names, that is… each and every one.”
"Correct. Might explain why it granted me sentience as well as hunger. They left soon after I first awoke, so I wasn't able to see them."
“How cruel… what… uhm, have you done to try and sate this hunger? Surely you haven’t just lived with it for all these centuries?”
"Quite a few things, actually. I got an old Spelljammer operational again, with a handful of modifications, and went off to go collect stars for a while. This greatly annoyed a handful of stellar celestials that heard of my culinary expedition, though. Despite eating several stars and the souls of quasi-deities and their angels... it hasn't helped my hunger in the least."
His eyes widen even more. “You ate… entire stars? How?”
He seems hesitant. "P-Piecemeal. It's my eighth name, and I really like it. Be careful with it, please." He brings her inside to the massive hearth. "I'll bring in blades for you, and you just keep this fire alive for now."
"I'll be careful with it- promise." She follows him inside, sitting beside the crackling fire, her large eyes taking in its warm glow as she makes sure it remains fueled and alive when he returns.
He walks out, leaving her with almost every layer of protection he has against the cold. "I'm heading out now. Stay safe, alright? You're important, Adeline." He stresses her name, as though it were massively important that she remember she has one. He disappears out the door, beginning to saw down a tree.
*Wanna send in someone else to meet him while he works?*
"I will. Thank you, Piecemeal." She responds, not entirely sure why he emphasized her name. He doesn't need to worry, she thinks- she's going to be keeping her name for a long time.
*Sure! Anyone in particular you'd like for me to send their way?*
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)
"Correct. Might explain why it granted me sentience as well as hunger. They left soon after I first awoke, so I wasn't able to see them."
“How cruel… what… uhm, have you done to try and sate this hunger? Surely you haven’t just lived with it for all these centuries?”
"Quite a few things, actually. I got an old Spelljammer operational again, with a handful of modifications, and went off to go collect stars for a while. This greatly annoyed a handful of stellar celestials that heard of my culinary expedition, though. Despite eating several stars and the souls of quasi-deities and their angels... it hasn't helped my hunger in the least."
His eyes widen even more. “You ate… entire stars? How?”
"Siphoned all their heat and light into a machine using a contraption of my design, and compacted it all into a more edible form. Though, it still requires proper preparation to actually be safe for most to consume- last time I tried to eat a star raw, it almost killed me." They explain in an unnervingly nonchalant tone, as though conversing about the weather and not rending the cosmos apart piece by piece.
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)
He stops the blade with his hand in the most unsafe way imaginable. Even without power, it sprays his filthy mixed blood about a meter across the ground. "Do you name your children?" His voice is calm and level, too blank even to become musical, but his eyes have an intensity that could burn stone.
She tilts her head, looking at him quizzically, and a bit frightened. She subconsciously takes a step back. “Of course. The ones who don’t already have names, that is… each and every one.”
He chuckles. "That's good... that's real good." He laughs out loud. He takes his mask off again. Tears run down to the corners of his lipless mouth. "I... I'm not very nice, am I?"
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.
"Correct. Might explain why it granted me sentience as well as hunger. They left soon after I first awoke, so I wasn't able to see them."
“How cruel… what… uhm, have you done to try and sate this hunger? Surely you haven’t just lived with it for all these centuries?”
"Quite a few things, actually. I got an old Spelljammer operational again, with a handful of modifications, and went off to go collect stars for a while. This greatly annoyed a handful of stellar celestials that heard of my culinary expedition, though. Despite eating several stars and the souls of quasi-deities and their angels... it hasn't helped my hunger in the least."
His eyes widen even more. “You ate… entire stars? How?”
"Siphoned all their heat and light into a machine using a contraption of my design, and compacted it all into a more edible form. Though, it still requires proper preparation to actually be safe for most to consume- last time I tried to eat a star raw, it almost killed me." They explain in an unnervingly nonchalant tone, as though conversing about the weather and not rending the cosmos apart piece by piece.
“(1GP)ing curses… that’s crazier than anything I’ve heard of or seen before-… and maybe after my ascension.”
He walks out, leaving her with almost every layer of protection he has against the cold. "I'm heading out now. Stay safe, alright? You're important, Adeline." He stresses her name, as though it were massively important that she remember she has one. He disappears out the door, beginning to saw down a tree.
*Wanna send in someone else to meet him while he works?*
"I will. Thank you, Piecemeal." She responds, not entirely sure why he emphasized her name. He doesn't need to worry, she thinks- she's going to be keeping her name for a long time.
*Sure! Anyone in particular you'd like for me to send their way?*
*Send whoever you want! I like all of your characters!*
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.
He stops the blade with his hand in the most unsafe way imaginable. Even without power, it sprays his filthy mixed blood about a meter across the ground. "Do you name your children?" His voice is calm and level, too blank even to become musical, but his eyes have an intensity that could burn stone.
She tilts her head, looking at him quizzically, and a bit frightened. She subconsciously takes a step back. “Of course. The ones who don’t already have names, that is… each and every one.”
He chuckles. "That's good... that's real good." He laughs out loud. He takes his mask off again. Tears run down to the corners of his lipless mouth. "I... I'm not very nice, am I?"
She frowns slightly, shuddering in the cold despite her dozens of layers of silken robes.
”you’re… unstable. That’s what you are. What reason would you have to be nice to me? You know-… from experience, I’m assuming, more than the basics of the Sidhe. Trust no Fey. I’m not going to judge you for something like that.” She speaks slowly, softly, and carefully, fully pronouncing every word.
*out of curiosity, since she’s my newest permanent character here, I’m not sure if I’ve asked this before, but what do you guys think of mother moth so far?*
He walks out, leaving her with almost every layer of protection he has against the cold. "I'm heading out now. Stay safe, alright? You're important, Adeline." He stresses her name, as though it were massively important that she remember she has one. He disappears out the door, beginning to saw down a tree.
*Wanna send in someone else to meet him while he works?*
"I will. Thank you, Piecemeal." She responds, not entirely sure why he emphasized her name. He doesn't need to worry, she thinks- she's going to be keeping her name for a long time.
*Sure! Anyone in particular you'd like for me to send their way?*
*Send whoever you want! I like all of your characters!*
*Alrighty! Here ya go!*
As Piecemeal goes out to saw down a tree, he can see the Groundskeeper walking through the snow, collecting frostbitten leaves and dead grasses for mulch for the courtyard plants.
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)
*out of curiosity, since she’s my newest permanent character here, I’m not sure if I’ve asked this before, but what do you guys think of mother moth so far?*
*I really like Mother Moth as a character- she's the perfect blend of cozy and spooky, and you do a wonderful job of playing her!*
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)
He chuckles. "That's good... that's real good." He laughs out loud. He takes his mask off again. Tears run down to the corners of his lipless mouth. "I... I'm not very nice, am I?"
She frowns slightly, shuddering in the cold despite her dozens of layers of silken robes.
”you’re… unstable. That’s what you are. What reason would you have to be nice to me? You know-… from experience, I’m assuming, more than the basics of the Sidhe. Trust no Fey. I’m not going to judge you for something like that.” She speaks slowly, softly, and carefully, fully pronouncing every word.
"..." He's silent. "She raised me..." comes that nails-on-chalkboard rasp. "I said that I would be better... better than she was... to others... and I'm not..." He falls to his knees. He shrugs off the layers of furs and leather padding and cold iron studs to reveal an emaciated body, held together with butcher's twine. "Look at me..." He pulls open the seams on his chest, revealing an empty hole. The organs are there, hanging in a black space, stitched and held by a web of sinew thread. "I am not a labor of love..."
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.
*out of curiosity, since she’s my newest permanent character here, I’m not sure if I’ve asked this before, but what do you guys think of mother moth so far?*
*I don't know a better way to describe her than beautiful*
*She's kind and amazing and distinctly human while being distinctly fey. She's flawed incredibly.*
*What do you think for Piecemeal?*
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.
*Send whoever you want! I like all of your characters!*
*Alrighty! Here ya go!*
As Piecemeal goes out to saw down a tree, he can see the Groundskeeper walking through the snow, collecting frostbitten leaves and dead grasses for mulch for the courtyard plants.
He approaches. "I'm going to hold a bonfire tonight. Do you wanna join me?" He seems confident, despite the Groundskeeper being basically a skyscraper in comparison to the monstrous Strugel.
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.
He chuckles. "That's good... that's real good." He laughs out loud. He takes his mask off again. Tears run down to the corners of his lipless mouth. "I... I'm not very nice, am I?"
She frowns slightly, shuddering in the cold despite her dozens of layers of silken robes.
”you’re… unstable. That’s what you are. What reason would you have to be nice to me? You know-… from experience, I’m assuming, more than the basics of the Sidhe. Trust no Fey. I’m not going to judge you for something like that.” She speaks slowly, softly, and carefully, fully pronouncing every word.
"..." He's silent. "She raised me..." comes that nails-on-chalkboard rasp. "I said that I would be better... better than she was... to others... and I'm not..." He falls to his knees. He shrugs off the layers of furs and leather padding and cold iron studs to reveal an emaciated body, held together with butcher's twine. "Look at me..." He pulls open the seams on his chest, revealing an empty hole. The organs are there, hanging in a black space, stitched and held by a web of sinew thread. "I am not a labor of love..."
She rushes over to him, almost scuttling. She kneels down slightly to look him in the eyes. “You… you are hurt. No-… more than hurt. But listen to me… you wanted to be better than the one who raised you- you cannot expect a flower fed poison to bloom! You need time-… to heal- to get better…”
*out of curiosity, since she’s my newest permanent character here, I’m not sure if I’ve asked this before, but what do you guys think of mother moth so far?*
*I don't know a better way to describe her than beautiful*
*She's kind and amazing and distinctly human while being distinctly fey. She's flawed incredibly.*
*What do you think for Piecemeal?*
*it is so wonderful to hear that, I had been enjoying playing her and I am so glad that you love her as much as I do!*
*Piecemeal is just. So. Great. I genuinely want him to heal and get better and learn to trust, and that’s how you know I love a character- I’m invested in their story, despite only being first exposed to it about yesterday. You did a wonderful job.*
*Send whoever you want! I like all of your characters!*
*Alrighty! Here ya go!*
As Piecemeal goes out to saw down a tree, he can see the Groundskeeper walking through the snow, collecting frostbitten leaves and dead grasses for mulch for the courtyard plants.
He approaches. "I'm going to hold a bonfire tonight. Do you wanna join me?" He seems confident, despite the Groundskeeper being basically a skyscraper in comparison to the monstrous Strugel.
They are silent for a moment, thinking before they make their decision. "Sure. I might not be able to stick around for long, but I'd like to see it too." They answer.
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)
"..." He's silent. "She raised me..." comes that nails-on-chalkboard rasp. "I said that I would be better... better than she was... to others... and I'm not..." He falls to his knees. He shrugs off the layers of furs and leather padding and cold iron studs to reveal an emaciated body, held together with butcher's twine. "Look at me..." He pulls open the seams on his chest, revealing an empty hole. The organs are there, hanging in a black space, stitched and held by a web of sinew thread. "I am not a labor of love..."
She rushes over to him, almost scuttling. She kneels down slightly to look him in the eyes. “You… you are hurt. No-… more than hurt. But listen to me… you wanted to be better than the one who raised you- you cannot expect a flower fed poison to bloom! You need time-… to heal- to get better…”
He looks up at her. "What do you know... of the Sugarplum Court's poison? They bloom such wonderful things from it... but I was too weak and too mortal. It made me angrier, angrier, angrier than the wildest faeries." He closes up his torso. "Why do you care? You've seen my body of work. It could be one of your children who gets hurt next, couldn't it?"
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.
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He stops the blade with his hand in the most unsafe way imaginable. Even without power, it sprays his filthy mixed blood about a meter across the ground. "Do you name your children?" His voice is calm and level, too blank even to become musical, but his eyes have an intensity that could burn stone.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Quite a few things, actually. I got an old Spelljammer operational again, with a handful of modifications, and went off to go collect stars for a while. This greatly annoyed a handful of stellar celestials that heard of my culinary expedition, though. Despite eating several stars and the souls of quasi-deities and their angels... it hasn't helped my hunger in the least."
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 tilts her head, looking at him quizzically, and a bit frightened. She subconsciously takes a step back. “Of course. The ones who don’t already have names, that is… each and every one.”
His eyes widen even more. “You ate… entire stars? How?”
"I will. Thank you, Piecemeal." She responds, not entirely sure why he emphasized her name. He doesn't need to worry, she thinks- she's going to be keeping her name for a long time.
*Sure! Anyone in particular you'd like for me to send their way?*
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)
"Siphoned all their heat and light into a machine using a contraption of my design, and compacted it all into a more edible form. Though, it still requires proper preparation to actually be safe for most to consume- last time I tried to eat a star raw, it almost killed me." They explain in an unnervingly nonchalant tone, as though conversing about the weather and not rending the cosmos apart piece by piece.
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)
He chuckles. "That's good... that's real good." He laughs out loud. He takes his mask off again. Tears run down to the corners of his lipless mouth. "I... I'm not very nice, am I?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“(1GP)ing curses… that’s crazier than anything I’ve heard of or seen before-… and maybe after my ascension.”
*Send whoever you want! I like all of your characters!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She frowns slightly, shuddering in the cold despite her dozens of layers of silken robes.
”you’re… unstable. That’s what you are. What reason would you have to be nice to me? You know-… from experience, I’m assuming, more than the basics of the Sidhe. Trust no Fey. I’m not going to judge you for something like that.” She speaks slowly, softly, and carefully, fully pronouncing every word.
*out of curiosity, since she’s my newest permanent character here, I’m not sure if I’ve asked this before, but what do you guys think of mother moth so far?*
*Alrighty! Here ya go!*
As Piecemeal goes out to saw down a tree, he can see the Groundskeeper walking through the snow, collecting frostbitten leaves and dead grasses for mulch for the courtyard plants.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*I really like Mother Moth as a character- she's the perfect blend of cozy and spooky, and you do a wonderful job of playing her!*
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)
"..." He's silent. "She raised me..." comes that nails-on-chalkboard rasp. "I said that I would be better... better than she was... to others... and I'm not..." He falls to his knees. He shrugs off the layers of furs and leather padding and cold iron studs to reveal an emaciated body, held together with butcher's twine. "Look at me..." He pulls open the seams on his chest, revealing an empty hole. The organs are there, hanging in a black space, stitched and held by a web of sinew thread. "I am not a labor of love..."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I don't know a better way to describe her than beautiful*
*She's kind and amazing and distinctly human while being distinctly fey. She's flawed incredibly.*
*What do you think for Piecemeal?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He approaches. "I'm going to hold a bonfire tonight. Do you wanna join me?" He seems confident, despite the Groundskeeper being basically a skyscraper in comparison to the monstrous Strugel.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She rushes over to him, almost scuttling. She kneels down slightly to look him in the eyes. “You… you are hurt. No-… more than hurt. But listen to me… you wanted to be better than the one who raised you- you cannot expect a flower fed poison to bloom! You need time-… to heal- to get better…”
*it is so wonderful to hear that, I had been enjoying playing her and I am so glad that you love her as much as I do!*
*Piecemeal is just. So. Great. I genuinely want him to heal and get better and learn to trust, and that’s how you know I love a character- I’m invested in their story, despite only being first exposed to it about yesterday. You did a wonderful job.*
They are silent for a moment, thinking before they make their decision. "Sure. I might not be able to stick around for long, but I'd like to see it too." They answer.
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)
He looks up at her. "What do you know... of the Sugarplum Court's poison? They bloom such wonderful things from it... but I was too weak and too mortal. It made me angrier, angrier, angrier than the wildest faeries." He closes up his torso. "Why do you care? You've seen my body of work. It could be one of your children who gets hurt next, couldn't it?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.