Search results for query: *

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...

But Demertu is not around. She has found Theoren; Theoren has found her; they have found each other. Eons have aged away on a distant world, but if Demertu has noticed - surely? - her mind draws her tongue elsewhere. "Do you see it, Theoren?" Theoren studies the Imperiess. She studies the...

"A shame," Bishii sighs, as her priestesses murmur. Their voices disappear into the abyss before firm syllables can travel to distant ears; are their words for anyone's benefit, or do they utter them only for the sake of sounds? Bishii herself seems deaf to them; her choir a response but never a...

It's like a mask falling away - like a third Imperiess, disappearing with the other two, when Casmira flicks her wrist. In its place, stands a new Bishii, suddenly two shades greyer than before, in a body that fills the same space but moves in new ways. She shrugs, and dust cracks off the old...

Everything Bishii did was almost physical: her tuttering laugh, the gentle sway of her hand through heavy air, the way her eyes drifted like dandelion petals over Casmira's body. It was a promise: a promise of shuffling the others away, and a promise of closeness, tenderness, embrace. "You will...

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...

The Allseer had never given Theoren a gift, but Theoren did not resent her for it - she had no gifts to request. Power - power of the sort Theoren could claim - had a strange effect on desire. Now, she moved by inclination, swept along as if by the winds, never wanting, never seeking - only...

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...

The priestess may as well have been silent. Theoren watched the pool a moment longer, eyes settling on Casmira's face like she was studying a sculpture 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. ***...

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...