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Theoren is wiping the glob of ichorous flesh from her cheek, dark blood smearing and melding into dark skin, when she feels the shifting of the clouds beneath her. Too quickly - too soon - great cables unfurl and grab her by the ankles. She tries to stomp them out, but they are tricky. Fast...

Theoren raises an eyebrow at her old, mad friend. "A trick?" Theoren reads Casmira's expressions like the flicker of a candle through a glass pane, even as her face transforms from almost-human tones to a creature of draconic fury. But she sees no uncertainty, no hesitation - not even that...

Theoren has known Yruson, but she has known a thousand sallowed streets, and has watched a thousand of them fall a thousand times. When she looks down, she sees not bricks but dust - the dust she herself has wrought from each of those stones, a thousand times before. She remembers a different...

Gilgala's response is a flourish - it bursts from the scabbard with aplomb, just slowly enough to give the light time to glint across the blade, each inch in turn. The sword swings through the air, an unmistakeable twirl - precious milliseconds wasted, golden strands of hair suspended in slow...

Theoren sees that face as both a memory and a premise, but it is the same face. Is it? Or is that a different speck of dirt, a different blot upon the line of her chin? Or is it in the eyes that the recollection is lost, eyes that have been hooked by another line and towed in with a different...

...the words strangely in her mind, struggling to fit them into a familiar hole, long after the other Imperiess has slinked away into long shadows. *** The Allseer demands nothing of Theoren's entry, except at the last moment - long after the spindly whispers and glazed eyes of her form have...

...Sharper, like an old blade whetted by the sands." Is it a chuckle that follows? "And who knows how wonderful our new sisters-to-come might be!" *** Elsewhere, in the Great Hall *** "Little errandgirl," Theoren snarls, without much force, and marches off. As the halls twist and their doors...

...follows. "You'll excuse a bit of arrogance, won't you? But I think a new crop has been tended, and soon at hand we'll reap what we've sown." *** Elsewhere, in the Great Hall *** Theoren knows how to laugh, in her own silent, snuffling way, with a glimmer of the eye that hints at some...

...finished speaking, and Bishii smiled. "As for why our holy matron keeps me around, well, I wouldn't presume to know. Maybe I'm just... helpful." *** Elsewhere, in the Great Hall *** Theoren prepared herself to march on in silence until Lysandra grew bored and disappeared, but instead she...

Imperiess Demertu, the Philosopher The elder hand of the Everlasting succumbs least often to bouts for dominance with her peers, but leaves them fuming and undone more surely than any of the rest. "Demertu's tongue has grown longer," quips the latest audience to her endless dance of words, using...

Seeking Partner: Cosmic Horror - Globe-Trotting Adventure - Occult Mystery I am seeking a partner for an advanced, long-term roleplay centered on two siblings traveling across the globe in the mid-to-late 1920s, discovering and trying to stop a global conspiracy to invoke the powers of...

...her reflection: actions that could have been hers, thoughts that could have been hers (were those thoughts?), a body that glistened like her own. *** Elsewhere, in the Great Hall *** "Casmira!" The word was flung forth with a warmth that melted frigid vacuum, and the hall grew tangibly...

As the world burned, Theoren slowly rose, bracing herself on her blade. Dark wings had bathed her in their ash-tinged wake only briefly, before the great beast - reborn - had scattered itself to a great distance. Now the trees were licked by orange flames while black charcoal dust fell like snow...

...made of sand. At last a priestess' hand passed through her line of sight, and a spell was broken. She left the oak without another word. *** The rock shattered, and Theoren stepped back until the last pebble had ceased to roll. She sheathed her sword, and turned, and fell. Graveled granite...

They walked through a spit of darkness and found themselves in a grove of trees. The undergrowth was sparse here, where children might have trampled young growths. Theoren looked overhead. Through a canopy of thin leaves yellowed by a blasphemous rot, she could see the grey clouds that draped...

Theoren enjoyed the relative silence of it, where the only words of Casmira's with which she had to contend were the ones she silently projected onto that broken mind stumbling before her. Not stumbling physically, perhaps. Casmira would never have let herself stumble; she was too desperate for...

Theoren knew the walkway was old, and firm, because it did not shudder under her steps. She could pass along it with what felt like light feet, basking unperturbed in the smoldering heat of the magmatic world. There was a music in the quiet crackle of this place, in the faint whoosh of...

I get really excited when I join an RP and then find out my partner is a WAY better writer than me. It's like, 1) Wow, how did I luck out this much? and 2) Now I get to push myself to be better and better and better with every post.

Theoren nodded. She felt a warmth, somewhere within her. Sometimes it was difficult to tell where those emotions swelled and languished, her body and brain so gone from any semblance of normal or routine. She wondered if it was there, just below her breastplate; or if perhaps it was deep in the...

Theoren glanced over to Casmira. The fleshy growths were still useless, but growing quickly. She stood, and raised her blade, a figure silhouetted against the sun. She hacked, down. A flesh stump of regrowing arm slipped loose. She prepared for her next swing. "I can cover my face, Casmira. If...