Soul Wrought Role-Play

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Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by JerriLeah7 on 28th July 2018, 6:10 pm



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Character Color Codes
ab1717Ascharya
6699ffSuitsue
c15600Zahoet
ccffffSuzette
9933ccChenoa
b471ceSeneka
ff9999Kokola
669966Shamblo
00a86bNephenee

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by JerriLeah7 on 29th July 2018, 10:16 pm


It is near sunset, hues of purple and pink within the sky threatening to push back the light and invite the deep blues of the night. The quiet moves over the region as the creatures move into their dens for the night. Torches are already burning, sprite bugs lighting up the sky here and there to give assistance. The doors of the Tribe, rather massive in size, are now closing up for the night, as all travelers are expected to have return to safety by now.

Cinema Tribe prepares its feasts, dinners prepped for various sections of the small denizen areas and the large tables are carefully cleaned before the freshest foods are set out for eating. The Tribe is loud, people move about from building to building, covering their duties while the hunters are out at the springs bathing after coming in from their hunts. It's been another long day, once more and the people of Cinema are left to appreciate what they have as they relish in the luxury of being separated from the wilderness on the other side of their protective walls.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by JerriLeah7 on 29th July 2018, 10:47 pm

Ascharya is perched up within her tower, a square shaped stall stacked upon her home rather stalwartly. The top room is but a tent, of sorts, covered by a Hwy patterned cloth of her home that drapes around the sides carelessly and rustles wildly when it is a windy night. Tonight, however, is not such a night. The cloth hangs still, though the air is quite cold, and the small trap door leading down into the stairs below is all that keeps the home below away from the weather's frosty grasp.

She has been leaning over the small, wooden table before her, concentrating rather carefully on the book upon its surface. The current page contains a list of names, names of the Magicians within Cinema. The chair to the table is tucked beneath it, unused. It's no wonder she has so many back problems, considering how low the table is. She's constantly stooping over her work. Movement catches her attention from the corner of her eye.

Turning her gaze to the right, a light bird has landed upon the top of the wall, finding the cloth's opening with great care and familiarity. Paper is attached, as usual. Stormy. She stands up straight, moving over to the lovely Raven and taking the message from the container tied to its foot. Opening it up, she reads the familiar penmanship with Sarresha's aid.

Stormy indeed. With a half frown, she closes the paper back away and look to Sarresha with a slight discomfort, "Damned fool has the balls to call me on an errand." She groans to herself, mumbling about old men and their neediness as she opens the trap door. The maned wolf, a beautiful, tall fox with elegant movement, soon followed her down the narrow tower stairs and into the main home. Another small room, but at least the first floor was larger, overall.

With a sigh, she was glad that the stairs were easy to navigate without clear sight. She'll have so many more struggles, soon. Climbing that mountain...it will be such a pain. However, if his granddaughter truly has become a sapling...then she must receive help as soon as possible. Yet, who to take with her? A Spiritualist will be necessary, of course...

Suitsue roared at the top of her lungs, the song of battle echoing forth and crashing against the heavens. Okay, so it wasn't really crashing against the heavens...okay, so it wasn't really a roar. It's more like a tiny scream, like that of a child, nagging at one's eardrums. Yet, Suitsue is a bit of a dramatic and she'd like it better if it were a roar, so she's going to pretend that that is what it is. A roar.

Her hands are balled into fists and they've slammed down upon the table. She's imagined that the table has broken before, shattered into pieces. Unfortunately, the stupid table is just fine. Stupid sturdy piece of wood! Her father stands before her, his arms crossed as he looks down upon her and she just glares back. SHe really IS glaring, though. She's not afraid of him! Too much, anyway...

Ridian sighs, "I know, I know. This is for the Tribe. And for us. The family. You have a duty to Cinema--"

"No!" Suitsue slams down upon the table again, throwing the shattered pieces of the table into the stars. In her imagination. "I am not considering this. I'm much too young for betrothal. DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Ridian's stone cold, stoic and expressionless face says it all. He is unaffected by her temper tantrum and her imaginary destruction of his home. She growls in her throat, but he cuts her short, "Listen. I told him that I'd consider it. That is all. You will meet with him, get to know him while he's in town. Then report back to me. That's all I ask of you."

Kicking a chair to the side, she crosses her arms back. She can do it, too! She glares harder until magic beams of death come out of her eyes and fry his brains. He's unaffected. He stands his ground against her attack--he must have an impenetrable shield, one far larger than hers...cursed family genes! Why must he excel in battling against her?!

Finally, she huffs, turning away from him with a pouting expression, "I'm going out for a walk."

"It's dark and the block's feast begins soon--"

Suitsue waves at him with exasperation, "I know father, you jerk. I'm going out for a walk!"

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by EphPhoenix on 2nd August 2018, 5:25 pm

[Attn: Open]

Nephanee rested, though she barely managed rest for more than a couple of hours at a time. Large, snow white, scaled hands wrap around her neck, ripping her from her sleep and dreams as she gasps desperately for her life breath.

Those hands connect to a scaly thing. Goat-slitted, orange eyes gaze down as she feels the pressure of the strange looking creature now straddling her form, which is small in comparison to its own size as it towers above her. The horns upon its head are twisted, sharp, thorny. The long claws scratch at her skin on her neck, its teeth visibly sharp when revealed behind a devilish grin. The wings upon its back are black, ashen.

As Nephanee chokes for air, he growls above her as the ash rises up from the surface beneath her his voice deep and somehow echoing, "Where is Lorelond?"

Leaning down, sniffing her hair and face, whispers in the distance state that it can smell Lorelond on her. She smells sweet and tasty. It is then the hands are suddenly removed, oxygen returning to her lungs as the humanoid with snow white scales and skin almost seems to vanish from view before flickering back into her sight. The weight of its body is gone, but it still appears to be there, waiting and staring intensely.

"Hgk!"

Hands were on her throat. "Damnation...!" she choked out, her hands balling into fists to lash out at..."Blazin'...hell...?!"

It was indescribable. And hideous. She choked, her hands instinctively reaching to try and break the lock on her throat. Her hands found nothing. Shit...! Pain etched through her neck as its inhuman eyes tried to bore through her like augurs. She struggled futilely, fear and anger warring for supremacy.

"Blazes!" she gasped. "Who...?!"

Before anything else can be said, it's gone, and the pressure on her neck blessedly released, sending her into a coughing fit. It reappeared in her field of vision away from her. The fear gave way to the white hot ball of anger that took the reins as she grabbed the nearest object and chucked it at the thing. "You damned sumbitch goat-lickin' slimebucket of a varmint!" she roared at it fiercely, fire in her eyes as she cast about for a weapon as she kept flinging any object that was within reach at it.


The objects went through it, the creature still, gazing with disinterest. Still, displeasure marked its countenance at her response. Within a heartbeat, it was before her, it's human like face mere centimeters from hers. It smelled like sulfur. Laughter chittered in the distance, but this thing wasn't laughing.

"I'll find you. I'll hunt you and rip the answer out of you, piece by piece." It licked its lips hungrily and then it vanished into smoke as silence returned.

Despite her anger, she took an involuntary step back as it was suddenly in front of her. Its words danced around her, making her feel filthy. "T-take a bath when ya do, shitlicker! Ya smell like rotten eggs!" Her words bounced off the walls in the now silent house. Her body shook from adrenaline...and the fear she didn't want to admit was creeping up her spine.

Suddenly, her grandfather burst through the door, short spear in hand and looking like a thundercloud. He surveyed the room and then her, his eyes taking her in with a glance. "Is it still here?" he said in that deathly quiet voice that bespoke sudden violence.

She shook her head. He relaxed slightly. "Get some rocks," he said. "Fer yer neck. Ice patches--" he cut off as she nodded; she knew. He nodded. "Try and get some more rest, if'n ya can."

Sleep. She missed that. Fuck this magic bullshit. "Granpa?" She stopped at the door and he regarded her. It hurt to use her voice. "The name 'Lorelond' mean anythin' ta ya?" He shook his head. "S'what it was askin' fer."

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by xenolion on 3rd August 2018, 7:14 pm

{Attn: Open}
Chenoa looks up at the people passing in front of her.  She loves this time of day.  Work gets put away, and the village gets together.  She sets the basket she just finished to the side.  She rises to a standing position and stretches, her body making cracking noises as she does.  She really needs to get up more often.  Kohi scrambles to her shoulder and squawks.  “Yes, I believe it is time for dinner.  Shall we see what needs to be done?”

She picks up the basket and puts it with the other finished ones.  She sees a shelf of ones that still need repairing.  It is a job that seems unending.  Kohi screeches again, almost in her ear.  Fermi is just walking away.  “I think he was saying hi.”

Fermi laughs and pets Kohi.  “I don’t know about you, but I am starving.  I hope your family joins mine again for the feast.”  Chenoa winks at her as Kohi climbs down for some more scratches.  “Just don’t feed him too much, it makes his tummy ache.  I have to check in, but we will see you and your family in a little bit.”

Chenoa walks to her home.  As soon as she gets in Kohi jumps down and scrambles to the kitchen.  “Chenoa how many times must I tell you no Kohi in the kitchen.” Liseli barks from the cooking area.  “I have some dishes for you to take to the feast.”  Chenoa goes into the area.  “I ran into Fermi and invited her and her family to sit with us.”  She cannot see it, but Liseli smirks.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by MethosArchaic on 4th August 2018, 12:34 am

[Attn: Chenoa, Open]

The shaft of yoke on his shoulder was heavy as he balanced it with his back and arm while climbing the steps to his cesspits. It was slow and tiring to carry the night-soil each evening. Each time he toiled up the steps to get the large bronze jars into place, he regretted having proposed and taken this task on himself. Bending his knees, he lowered himself till the weight lifted as the jar's bottoms touched down.

Slipping out from the yoke, he unhooked the chains, then positioned his crane like apparatus into place and hooked up the harness so he could tip them properly. Each one took several minutes, as he had to bend his wrist and elbow oddly while also using his hip to keep the straps from slipping till they where tight. This was all necessary of course to maintain his place with the tribe, his magic alone wasn't always enough to balance out his inefficiencies. Sometimes if the children stayed late, they could do this part many times faster than he.


Zahoet Thimble scolded, feeling the young man's frustration. What He didn't say was that Zahoet was plenty useful, though the feeling was conveyed to the young man regardless as was Thimble's way.

There was a sigh, "You're right as usual Grandfather." Zahoet conceeded. Zahoet finished the straps then, pushed the cover of the cesspit open. The smell burst out, exploding out and seeking it's way into Zahoet's nose and mouth. He kept his mouth closed and held his breath to avoid as much as possible as he moved around the pit holding the rope. Wrapping it around his arm several times by twirling his wrist, he pulled with his bodies' weight. The bronze container that was half his height tipped and it's contents poured down. Slipping out of his left shoe, he focused his magic and felt the mud start to flow and form around his foot and ankle. Sending his will into it, he caused it to wash through the container to clear out the thing and then send it down into the pit.

Finishing this one, he continued onwards to the second one and repeated the process. Closing up the pits, he moved the jars from the platform back to the yoke with much shouldering and working it back and forth. Having them hooked back up, he carried them back into the village. The empty vessels had to go back to where he had gotten them. To Zahoet, the trek was basically a momentary break in his rounds for the end of the day.


It will pay off. The Old Man reassured him with the faintest hints of encouragement and pride. The sensation quickly changing to surprise then a dreamlike feeling of hunger and yearning.

"Ah, Dinnertime" their voice mingling in each others heads and out loud.

Zahoet picked up his pace, the bells starting to jingle faster as he started to sprint. His entire arm flexing and holding hard to the yoke as he hustled. There would still be three more rounds tonight before he could turn in, but he had to hurry or he was going to receive an earful for being late. Drawing a few glances as he jingled by, only added to the groan he made at the thought of his slowness. Thimble was surely amused, but Zahoet didn't hear it as focused as he was with keeping the yoke from slipping.

His sister saw him and flagged him down. Zahoet slowed and stopped, "Oh good. Chenoa invited us to sit with them, I'm just off to tell Mom and Dad. Good, I'm off." Fermi said without really waiting for Zahoet to really get much of a say either way, after all their families often invited each other. Fermi really was good friends with Chenoa.

This meant that he needed to change his route to adjust for the development. It was a little further to travel, but otherwise didn't throw his work into disarray. He always switched empty gathering pots with full ones, so Chenoa's area would just move up to the second batch, after dinner of course.

Finally making it to the group of homes, he settled them out of the way. Glad that Chenoa hadn't yet seen him, there was still hope that he could get cleaned up before he was noticed... that's when he saw her... seeing him. Crap, it was the bells again. This time he could feel Thimble's laughter...

"Stupid Ol' Man." Zahoet grumbled as he pulled out a rag and started to clean himself with the water in a pot under the eave. It was cold of course, but that was alright. He scrubbed at his face first then working down his neck and moving onto his legs.

When Chenoa approached in the middle of cleaning, which she was bound to do, Zahoet would greet her with a bit of a smile. "Hey. Mind helping me here?" Zahoet said offering her the rag so she could wash his hand and forearm for him, his determined self-sufficient facade able to be put away around this, his most trusted friend and that familiar comfort that he felt around her.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by xenolion on 5th August 2018, 9:03 am

Chenoa grabs two bowls and takes them outside.  Just as she does two kids race by her followed by her younger brother.  Chenoa spins around, but keeps hold of the bowls.  She then catches Zahoet’s eyes and smiles.  She whistles to get her brother’s and his friends’ attention.  “Now go put this on the table for me, I will be right back.”  Halian rolls his eyes, but takes one of the bowls while his friend take the other.

Chenoa approaches Zahoet and takes the rag he was using.  She begins to clean the dirt off him.  “I don’t know if you ran into Fermi or not, but your family is welcome to sit with mine.  Dinner smells really good.  Mom was cooking up a storm too.  If you need help after dinner, let me know.  I will be working with the leather tomorrow, so I have some time. Maybe if you are good, I may make a little something just for you.” She winks and smiles at him teasingly.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by JulietHasAGun on 11th August 2018, 8:11 pm

[ATTN: Closed]

"Aaaaaand there." The young man hummed, his sweet, honeysuckle voice a comforting lull as he gracefully plucked the last remaining spine from the young womans foot. He knelt before her, polished tool in one hand, its intimidating maw gripping the blood stained thorn, the young woman's foot in the other; delicately gripped with a surgeons accuracy and gentle touch.

His tongue gently tutted, clicking against the roof of his mouth. "Now, what have we learned here about running barefoot amongst the underbrush?" He released the girls trembling foot, running thumb comfortingly across its top before swiftly and gracefully pulling himself to his feet.

The young girl blushed, but Seneka was wise enough to know it was not based solely in his friendly admonishment. The soft, willowy smile that he had, everpresent, on his face, only brightened and pulled wider as the young woman's mother took her turn to scold her. He took the opportunity to turn away, dropping the spine in the clean, shining bowl that held the rest of the spines he had pulled from her foot, laying down his tools on the now bloody cloth beside it.

“Thank ye, Seneka. Who knows where this little rascal would be, out actin’ a fool, if we didn’t have you.” The older woman glared down at the young girl, who wilted away from her harsh gaze.

Seneka grabbed a cloth, dampened with disinfecting alcohol, turning back to his patient. “Ah, I know the ways of idle, rebellious youth.” He smiled placatingly. “We were all young once- This might sting a little, alright?”

He waited for the girl to nod before gently dabbing at the wounds on her skin, washing away the blood, disinfecting the wounded skin. It took him but a few moments, before he turned back to his table, discarding the cloth in the bowl, and grabbed a roll of bandages.

He briskly, precisely, delicately wrapped the girls ankle as she was squabbling with her mother. She didn’t even notice Seneka bandaging her wound. He took that as a sign he was good at his job, and left it at that.

“Aaaaand that’s it. You’re all set.” Seneka beamed up at them brightly, rising gracefully to his feet, offering out his hand to the girl to help her stand. “Now, keep off it as much as you can, no climbing, no running, and no....other strenuous activity.” A glint of practiced humor danced in his eyes as the girl shrank back, embarrassed. A small chuckle rose in his throat, to comfort her as she took his hand, wincing slightly at the weight on her wounded foot. His gaze shifted to her mother. “Lots of bedrest, and keep the foot elevated if it starts hurting. If the pain persists, come back to me and I’ll prescribe her something.” He handed her a roll of bandages with his spare hand, the woman clutched them tightly, hanging on to Seneka’s instruction. “Change her bandages every day. If you need more, see me, but that should be enough.”

“Seneka,” The woman sighed wistfully, helping her daughter take two more steps to the door. Luckily, neither lived far, but it would still take them a while, he imagined. “Wonder how a man like you hasn’t wrangled a wife, yet.”

He paused, chuckling a bit, awkwardly this time. He was used to the question; a question that had become more frequent with age.

He let his chuckle be his answer, and watched them disappear into the cool evening air.

---

Seneka, colorful scarf draped about his neck, stepped out into the brisk gale of his doorstep, making sure to leave notice that his clinic was closed for the evening. The villagers knew that if they needed him, they could find him. He was a very hard man to miss, with his white, curly hair, and striking, lavender eyes.

He had assimilated well enough, despite his oddities, but found himself, despite the friendly demeanor of his last patients, looking for the companionship of one more familiar.

He knew his sister was out, on a mission she had said. So no one awaited him at home; the evening was his, and his alone.

His eyes idly cast out into the growing darkness, and he walked deftly in the direction of Suitsue’s house.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by EphPhoenix on 14th August 2018, 10:50 am

[Attn: Open]

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

"Shh, little one. It's okay. This is a trial unlike any you've ever faced."

He was calling her little one, he was worried. Granpa practically [i]carried her back in--and she realized ruefully that he had only been trying to let her carry the illusion of independence. She hadn't gotten but 10 steps out of the house when the visions began. Strange otherworldy places that she had never before contemplating existing. One minute she'd been in a barren, cold reflection of their mountain with greenish orbs floating around (she could've sworn one looked human for a second), and then she was seeing an inferno hellscape with creatures unlike anything but nightmare fuel. There was a moment when one of the creatures turned its unearthly gaze upon her and in that moment, she felt like the mouse before the owl. It was overwhelming, her senses being bombarded relentlessly with sounds, sights, smells that she couldn't comprehend all at once--and then nothing. She'd found herself being held up by Granpa.

He'd never let her out of his sight. "Fires, barren, or golden?" he said to her.

"Two outta three," she answered. "Not golden, tho'. That'n sounds nice."

"Don't be too sure," he said darkly. "All that shines isn't necessarily pretty."

"When does it stop...?" She felt a crack in her voice that brought shame to her.

"It doesn't. Just gets more manageable."

"I--"

Her eyes burned as suddenly she was thrust out of twilight and into brightest day. Lush, golden greenery fluttered in a gentle breeze, raw gems littered the ground. It was gorgeous. She looked around, taking in the golden sky and-- "Avert your eyes, girl."

Her eyes shot down, there was a man. His clothes marked him from the east, fluttering in the breeze. How was he standing there?! He was staring right at her, shaking his head with an expression of warning.

"Wha...?"

She heard sounds and her eyes darted beyond him. "Don't...!" he cried, but it was too late. Beautiful little creatures with little bobbing lights were dancing. It seemed almost ritualistic. It, too, was gorgeous, their movements somehow perfect. Then her eyes fell on something in between them. It was unrecognizable, having been eviscerated beyond recognition. Then she saw the blood covered fingers of the creatures, who continued to dance and flit and laugh.

"I did warn you," the man said grimly. "Must be a Sapling."

He faded from her sight and she jarred back into reality. Immediately, she stumbled for the outside and retched. She'd sliced open enough animal bodies, but that hadn't been skinning for hunting...that wasn't anything remotely like it at all.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by MethosArchaic on 15th August 2018, 8:18 pm


[Attn: Chenoa, Open]

Chenoa had taken the rag and started clean his hand, wrist and arm and asking about his sister. "She told me." Zahoet confirmed as his friend moved around to side and gotten a few more areas on back he had missed, something that was a bit more common for him. His mother and sister often pointed it out.

"Liseli cooked too much huh? Guess it wouldn't hurt to have an extra mouth or two then." he agreed with obviously fake inconvenience, before switching gears when she handed him the rag and then went on offering help while also teasing him a bit. "I'm not sure if I should be careful or joyful then. After dinner I've still got shit pot detail."

It was his turn however to tease her back, at least this time. "You're free to join me though, I know how much you love our dates." He even grinned for a few seconds, until Thimble chuckled in his head like a dirty old man watching two kids flirt... Zahoet's eyes shifting to his sword as his head turned and a frown appeared. There was a second or two of silent exchange between the two men, before Zahoet sighed. "I swear..."

Pulling himself back to reality so to speak, he blinked a few times. "Sorry, nosy Ol' Man." It not being too uncommon for Thimble to distract him or accidentally interrupt a conversation. "Food then?" Zahoet said thumbing towards where Chenoa had come from, more than willing to follow her lead.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by Goetia Yesterday at 12:47 am


[Attn: Open]
Shamblo sat at her desk, waiting for her chance to go eat supper. She swore she could already smell the fresh cutlets cooking in an open flame. All she needed was the confirmation that all caravans were counted for and the tribe was locked down. Slowly, the minutes rolled by. The sun sank into the earth. The sky darkened. The day had progressed like any other, but Shamblo was aware that peace was never a certainty. She tapped the wooden desk with fingernails bitten into jagged shapes.

"Come on, it shouldn't take them this long to lock up for the night." Shamblo was ready to go outside and check, herself, when one of the Sentinel guards walked into her office. He could read the chief's impatience, so he kept his message brief.


"Uhm, evening, Chief. All traveling parties have made it back safely and we got the gates locked and guards posted."

Shamblo's face unwound as soon as she heard the report. "Thank the heavens. You're free to go." The guard soon dipped into the shadows behind the doorway, leaving the War Chief to her business. Shamblo stretched out her limbs, letting out a well-needed yawn. She jumped out of her seat and quickly made her way to the block feast. The aroma called to her like sweet wine. The town was rife with activity, but soon it would give way to a quite stillness Shamblo waited for. On her way to the feast, she said her greetings to several familiar faces, stopping to converse with a few. It was hard to imagine someone so friendly was also bewedded to the night.

At the gathering, Shamblo took stock of the food before her; pine nut salad, cooked meat, diced potatoes, corn, and lots of bread. She took a healthy portion of the meat, along with some salad and potatoes and sat with the other chiefs at the elders' table. All the other elders had already begun their meals, talking and eating and sometimes laughing. Shamblo respectfully greeted herself to the others with a warm smile, but she had no interest in their conversations. All chatter about politics and people she never heard of. She only helped herself to the steaming plate before her. And within only minutes, she ate everything. She didn't show any restraint; the elders were too busy talking to notice her, anyway. With a full belly, Shamblo left to walk around the village's perimeters and unwind.

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Co-Claims: Leah 7
Anime/Video game Claims: Amaterasu from Feudal Era. Vash the Stampede from Trigun. Million Knives from Trigun. Itachi Uchiha from Naruto Shippuden. Rozalin from Disgaea 2. Prometheus from Megaman ZX Advent. Emory Amden from Force User Role Play. Madame Red from Kuroshitsuji. Blues (Proto Man) from Mega Man series Excalibur from Soul Eater.


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Goetia
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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by xenolion Yesterday at 8:37 pm



{Attn: Zahoet, Open at table – feel free to sit by them =)}

“Yes, I just love our crappy dates.” She puts up her finger. "No, I have a better one. Being friends with you is a shitty job, but someone has to do it." She laughs at her own jokes. She doesn't her him laughing and looks at him noticing his pause. “I don’t even want to know what he is telling you. We better hurry before all the good seats are taken.” Chenoa walks over to the table and sees her family seated with some extra seats for them.

The table is loud, but the conversation is lighthearted. Her parents enjoy seeing how comfortable she is with Zahoet. Chenoa picks up the conversations that are happening around her somehow keeping track of them all, and joining in some of them.

“Well I am going to be busy tonight, and tomorrow I have leather duty. There are some pelts that are ready to be stretched. It is about time too, it takes way to long to make leather.”


“You are just impatient Chenoa dear.” Taregan chuckles lightly. “It is the reason why you are involved in so much.” He reaches over to pat her head gently.


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Thank you leah
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Member:  Leah7, Aernith OC:  Mori Harubana Uteke Merrick  Anime:  Lance from Voltron,  Cheetara from Thundercats  Video Game: Jade Curtiss from Tales of the Abyss, Auron from Final Fantasy X, Quistis Trepe from Final Fantasy VIII,  Jin Uzuki from Xenosaga, Keats from Folklore.
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xenolion
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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by MethosArchaic Today at 8:24 pm


[ATTN: Chenoa, Ascharya, Open]

Zahoet follows after Chenoa who had pretty much taken his hand and drug him along without any care to appearance or worry that Zahoet would object or tarry much. She deftly found her way to the crowd even with her tag along trailing behind her. In some part of his mind, he thought that his bells chiming along in his hustle likely aided it to some degree... maybe, it was hard to tell it was rather lively at gatherings like this.

"Pardon me." Zahoet said as he settled in beside Chenoa along with her family, his likely would be showing up any minute. In the meantime he greeted Malia and Halian as they were the first to greet him, followed by Taregan and Liseli.

While Zahoet did occasionally make small talk, especially to Liseli which he complimented on the cooking. Compared to the busy social bee that was Chenoa however, Zahoet was pretty passive conversation-wise. Even when his family arrived and joined in, Zahoet was fairly content listening to the ever changing conversations around him.

People came and went, stopped for a quick word or two here and there before continuing on with their meals or mingling with their neighbors and friends. Zahoet wasn't completely exempt himself, receiving a few questions here and there about his work progress on one or more of his projects. The oddest though caused him to pause, then look at the elder table to Ascharya.

Rising from his place, he tapped Chenoa on the shoulder and those near them, "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

He wasn't sure what exactly the Shamari needed him for. Perhaps she needs me to help prepare for a new founding. that thought made the most logical sense, it was what the elder's had accepted as one of his duties. With Winter dragging closer it might have to do with the walls.

Making his way to the Elder's Table he waited behind a couple other people till they had finished talking and he could approach Ascharya. "Shamari, I heard you needed to see me. How can I serve?"

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Member Claims: Gateway Bot, MethosArchaic, Pachirisu71
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MethosArchaic
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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by MethosArchaic Today at 9:22 pm


[ATTN: Chenoa; Collab between Ascharya and Zahoet, at Elder's Table]

Ascharya looks up from her now empty plate, politely gesturing for Zahoet to come closer as she stoically looks him up and down with critical analysis.  After a brief pause, she finally meets his gaze and says, "Zahoet.  Please, sit."

The Shamari gave him a cursitory once over, before inviting him over. Still unsure of what was about to unfold, Zahoet casually sat down. "Of course." Ascharya was of course in charge of the magicians of the village, as well as one of the leaders of the tribe so it was fine for him to take a seat when prompted. Any other time he likely would be with his family or Chenoa's, the Elder's didn't have need to call him up often to sit with them. If they needed something, they normally caught him around town and talked to him that way. That was more normal for him and put him less on edge, but because he was on edge he noticed that Ascharya was wearing pants.... Odd.

As her plate is taken away, she thanks the elder with a short, sharp tone without her gaze leaving Zahoet.  As the obstruction is removed, she leans down onto the table, resting her arms upon it as she looks at him expectantly.  Her tone is rather...strict.  Authoritative.  "Your nightly duties have been reassigned to another.  You'll be guiding me up the mountain this eve.  I was told that you are one of those most familiar with the Path to Stormy.  That is correct, I presume?"

The fact that his duties had been handed off was a bit of a surprise, most didn't exactly relish the task. Perhaps Chenoa had volunteered because of this. "I wouldn't say I am the most familiar but I do know the way." If she had known wouldn't she have given more of a heads up? It was likely that she hadn't known either. "I'm familiar enough to lead you there." Zahoet knew there had to be a reason to pester Stormy, because the man was fairly infamous with his desire for solitude. If he was injured the man would take care of that himself, and if he was dead then Ascharya would likely take a Spiritualist instead. "Perhaps a Sentinel might be better suited, unless something happened? A mud slide? We have had a lot of rain lately"

Ascharya clears her throat, "Very good.  You will lead me there, so grab any you trust with your life.  We must climb with haste, Zahoet.  A sapling has awoken and she is with great affinity.  I have a Spiritualist that I will bring, but the rest of the group will be selected by you.  I expect you and your selected to be gathered at the gate in one hour.  We have no time to waste."

That was surprising news indeed, magicians typically skipped several generations in a family. Stormy must be chomping at the bit over his granddaughter right now. "Yes, Shamari." Zahoet nodded his acceptance as he rose from his cushion, "Excuse me."

Making his way along the outside of the gathering, he briefly paused in sight of Chenoa. Waving at her to get her attention, Zahoet motioned for her to get over here. Once she was, he explained what happened pretty quickly. "Stormy's Granddaughter just awoke. You can come with but I've got to find Shamblo and see if she has a couple sentinels on hand that she can spare. Either way we've got to find her and hurry."

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MethosArchaic
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