• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

Adamaris was certainly itching to be able to get back to town- even more so to be able to spend it alone for just a few, brief moments, with Elriel. Even still, their eyes fell on Elriel and they offered up a small smile as he offered up to help with the funds. "Ever generous, my old friend." They murmured quietly to their friend, and their eyes twinkled with a warmth that as shared between them. But with that, they ere quick to turn on their heel to start making their way out from the barn, ready for the journey ahead... Ready to be able to take another step forward.

Oh and how relieved they were it was just them, with the gentle touch of Elriel's hand, their own intertwined their fingers together- giving his hands a gentle squeeze with their own as their eyes flitted onto his face. A small smile tugging at their own lips as they lightly bumped their shoulders together, more than happy to be under the umbrella- and even more so to be closer with Elriel. "Always so considerate of me." They quietly teased, and there was an ache in their chest at the thought of... all the time that was lost.

But to listen to him and hear that he wanted them to spend some more time with one another, alone, before their voyage... They couldn't help but be more in agreement to that. "You have no idea how much I long to be able to have some more moments alone, before we have to make our journey... who knows how long it might very well take." They sighed a little bit at the thought, but brushed their thumb against the back of his hand. "A tavern sounds nice, after all we should stay as warm as we can before the oncoming journey..."

Goliath Goliath
Evaline was relieved that Kwame was so easily able to be right of the tunnels- it was expected with his being a centurion. "It is best to not have a trail directly to our location if we could help it." The woman finally spoke up as she looked at the other two, placing one of her hands on her hip. She was just relieved that they were both sensible... knew exactly what needed to be done. It wasn't until Kwame started to speak up again- that his offer certainly piqued her interest. "I wouldn't be able to say no to such an offer, after all, you're possily the best to learn from, Kwame." But she fell quiet, for a few seconds.

She supposed maybe it was worth to be thanked, right now they needed to be able to do what was necessary to get out- and preferably alive. "It's not so traight forward as it once could have been, being a knight. I don't envy you or your position." Evaline finally murmured, and she offered up a little smile, but it faltered and she looked back over at Kilderkin when she spoke to her, eyes settled onto the body she was toting about- and she supposed that it would do well to have anything that benefitted them. "I will not argue against that, I trust that you will make good use of them." Evaline finally decided, and she dipped her head, putting her trust in the other woman before she listened to the both of them.

"It's hard to say what might come to pass when it comes to Nye." Evaline finally stated, and she looked over at Kwame for a long moment. "Perhaps it might be another monster, or perhaps it might be for the best... Only time may tell who might just come out on top, hm?" The woman huffed out, before focusing back on whether she had any combat experience. "My experience is typically dealing with an asshole or two back at home- someone had to keep them humble and running with their tails in between their legs. I can't say I'm familiar with this. Not in the slightest."

Jet Jet Fred Colon Fred Colon

The quote "shoot first and ask questions later" is usually said by the worst elements of humanity. The kind of knuckle dragging baboons too simple for complete sentences, only one liners like hasta la vista baby — but today the baboon was owed his due. There was no compromise or communication with these strange foreign men, so when Spivey fired his cannon, he was doing exactly what needed to be done.

The warriors roared as the fire streaked towards them, two were caught in the blast before crumpling to the ground, skin blackened like charcoal. The rest advanced from all directions, some flanked while others ran from the front. There was one who flew above them using his familiar magic, merging with a green tropical bird. They unleashed a torrent of magic from every elemental school, but none of them seemed very strong. Their only advantage was numbers and with ten men, their combined power was more than enough to kill. Their spells streaked forward in lines of color with earth bullets mixed in, cutting through the brush as the men screamed in rage.

If it was the last thing they ever did, they would avenge their fallen comrades.

Lost Echo Lost Echo Arcanist Arcanist ZackStop ZackStop

"Oh don't mention it," Tessia said to Baryn. "I'm a very understanding leader, you can come to me with anything! I can't promise I'll listen but I'm very good at faking it." Her eyes momentarily widened as he tried several languages; it was impressive but there was no reaction. The girl silently stood with a blank expression on her face. Her eyes glossed over like she wasn't paying attention, and she didn't move a muscle. It was more creepy than anything. "Is this uh... normal for kids? Do they usually malfunction like this?'

Her brow furrowed as she scratched at her chin. The kid was already a pain in her ass. It was impossible to understand these little balls of chaos. "Hello?" Tessia waved at the kid. "Earth to—

"Ah hell. You're better at this anyway," she said to Euclair. It seemed she was good with kids, not that Tessia knew what that entailed, but kneeling with a smile seemed like the right move.

"Anyways!" Tessia brushed past the girl. "Lunatics and optimistic idiots?
Ain't that the truth haha!"

According to that definition, Tessia wasn't a lunatic or hopelessly optimistic... she was both. Even now this felt like a summer vacation. Her brain was a chill place and danger rarely changed that, because death was nothing to worry about. It would suck to miss the next Knife of Darkness movie, and there were some restaurants she still wanted to try. But beyond that? Death came with the territory. You didn't become a centurion without being reckless.

"Oh!!" Tessia suddenly wheeled back around. "Euclair you should adopt her! You could teach her common tongue, how to write and use magic, and I can be the fun aunt!"

Her smile was energetic like a wire dipped in water, but it twinged when she sensed a weird presence. The feeling of being drained suddenly hit her body. The magic in her veins faded and her familiar flickered in and out of existence — and she wasn't alone. The same thing hit her group. Their familiars looked like broken television screens, blinking away before returning a moment later. The feeling of being without magic was unnatural and unnerving to them all, and losing it was like a void stretching from their stomach to their limbs and out to their extremities.

"What is this!" Tessia wheeled around as her water blades, dozens of them buried in the ground, lost control and fell apart, and for once her demeanor changed. "What the fuck is this? Can you control your elements?" Tessia reached forward and tried summoning a water blast, a basic technique taught to apprentices. "I can't even—

Her face reddened with frustration, sharply exhaling as she tried and tried again. The most she could make was a droplet the size of rain, and even that disappeared after a moment. "This is—

"It's like we're being jammed!"

EldridSmith EldridSmith Monbon Monbon

Last edited:
Vixie’s face reddened as she clenched her jaw. Mouthing mockingly, she didn’t turn to acknowledge Dante. ((Her mother had taught her to watch her words, but not her face.)) Seriously. The book had fallen like an inch max. It wasn’t like she dropped it far. If she wasn’t wearing gloves, it wouldn’t have slipped out of her fingers. She was sure. She stayed quiet, rolling her eyes, even as she picked up the book once more. Her tail bristled, she pulled the “priceless” book--she didn’t even recognize the author, it couldn’t have been too impressive--out and walked across the room to sit in an empty armchair. Let Nihal deal with the jerk.

It was only after she settled, the book now open in her lap, that the thoughts came back. ‘How could he be so arrogant if he’d been a slave?’ Reaching up in a stretch, she pulled her hair tie out, letting the locks fall on her shoulders. Leaning her head forward, the red strands curtained her face, letting her look up through her lashes without being too obvious. The pale man was a contrast to Nihal. She decided he was ugly. Had he been lying? Vixie admitted she wouldn’t be able to tell. He was a stuck up jerk, but was her claimed brother falling for a lie, created to garner sympathy? Her ears pricked forward, and she stared, trying to see a sign of deceit.

Anne Boolean Anne Boolean Jet Jet
The cat boy gave a thoughtful nod in response to Dante's words about the author. "It's tragic, but grimly interesting," he responded. He never had the chance to read it. He hadn't ever been much of a reader. In fact, he struggled quite a bit with it until he was being prepared for Outland Idol. There was no way Nye's next superstar could be illiterate though, so he was promptly tutored.

"I wonder... was his art as much a cry for help as it was creative and emotional release? And do you think people only started caring when they realized they could make money off of it?" In Hobbes's case, it would add up. A publisher wouldn't need to pay the late author for his work. In his own case, he remembered being told to shut up until clients mentioned what an alluring voice he had. Then he was encouraged to share his talents, even more so when people suggested he could get far in Outland Idol.

Dante's clarification actually made the offer quite tempting. Truthfully, despite relishing in his freedom, the popstar didn't quite know his next move. Here, he'd have a captive audience to test the waters. Or at least he'd have a venue that wouldn't boot him out for not bringing them revenue through his work. It would require maintaining his wealth and status though, and he imagined word would get out about a performer with a light-aligned cat as a familiar and people would connect the dots. Maybe the Casablanca was banking on that drawing people in, and maybe Dante was quite a shrewd businessman.

He gave a small smile. "Well, I appreciate your time and company." Even time and company were rarely out of the goodness of someone's heart though. He truly hoped the only thing Dante was seeking was entertainment. Nyaall listened and nodded along to Dante's explanation of his dream. A dream of mere survival. Nihal was sure he had that at one point too. Perhaps he truly was the lucky one here. Even if it was for the selfish benefits of others, he was encouraged to dream and yearn. Perhaps Dante hadn't been encouraged to do the same.

The other asking for his name brought another smirk to his lips. "Why not just call me by your name?" he suggested. But perhaps that was too cheesy, like something straight out of a gay romance movie. "Or you can call me... Eliwood." Had that been the name of another musician he had come across? Or maybe a stage name he himself had dreamed of taking on when he was younger? Either way, he found it elegant. "We're actually here on official business." He was of sober enough mind to not divulge too much and rouse suspicion. Or perhaps he just didn't fully remember the mission from when he heard it in his drunken haze. They were with a centurion though, and Bean seemed to have made enough of a scene in the other room to let everyone know he wasn't interested in partaking in the debauchery.

He glanced over to Vixie, who seemed to have settled down in a corner. She seemed safe and possibly comfortable for now, but the idea of her being in a place like that still didn't sit right with the singer. Besides, as capable a fighter as she was, Bean was their best bet of staying safe. If Dante was happy with his situation here, as much as Nyaall was still hesitant, it would be best to leave him to it. He gazed at the man's face once more. Truly a beauty. And yet... lingering doubt of the man's free will kept Nyaall from acting upon his feelings.

"We should really group up with our third, actually," he said, "but... I think I'd like to come back and perform sometime. At least if you'll be in the audience." He stood up from the chair, offering a hand to Dante to help him up as well. "I'd like something from you as well. When I'm back, I'd like you to tell me about somewhere in this world you'd like to go, or something you'd like to do outside of the Casablanca. Maybe even something you'd like that you can't get here." He gave a smile. "Humor an artist, won't you? We find inspiration in interesting ways."

Jet Jet Lost Echo Lost Echo

"Hmm..." Isaac looked between Yua and her companion. He wondered what Felix thought about leaving town. The man was supposed to protect her and traveling was as dangerous as it was dumb, but Isaac was tempted nonetheless. He wanted to know exactly who they were dealing with. If it was a violent centurion he could pretend to be a passing merchant, maybe an old coot with less brain cells than teeth; nobody would dare hurt such a man! He could always count on old age for perfect cover.

"I must admit that I'm tempted, but I don't believe lmy opinion is the deciding one." He glanced at Felix with a clear message in his eyes, something along the lines of I totally understand if you send this idea to the shadow realm. He knew exactly what it was like after dealing with Tawny. There were times when despite what the young man said, no matter how much he pleaded and begged for something he wanted, Isaac had to say no. This could certainly be one of those times for Felix.

"If Felix is permitting then let's give our visitors a warm welcome, and perhaps a stern warning to leave this place at once. It's a powder keg waiting to explode and they're the very last thing we need."

(Assuming Felix says yes, if not then disregard the next passages)

The desert was scarred by ancient weapons of war. It was covered in craters and fissures that were a dozen feet wide, and clouds of dust rolled over them like mist. The remains of ancient cities were barely visible from above, only thin lines where mighty walls once stood.

They were the footprints of the gods. The remnants of men who mastered the world.

Isaac opened his notebook and drew every wall and every outline of a foundation, every crater and strange formation he saw. He imagined what life must've been like back then, how people lived and the incredible technology they had. He imagined what it must've been like at the end as fire rained from above, when their world ended as they knew it. He felt a pang of sympathy for those who died in the ancient wars, and he wondered why it had to repeat itself time and time again. Why the world was terrified of Kratorian blood? Why they needed to be humbled over and over until nothing but ash remained? Where was the honor in such atrocities, he asked himself. Where was the honor in such villainy?

"Beauty lost is beauty once had, cherish the memory instead of being sad." He closed his notebook and put his pencil in his pocket, narrowing his eyes at a plateau rising from the flat ground. There was a ship docked there from the looks of it. "There are drawings of what Mir once looked like. It was filled with metal structures like Nye."

"But enough of my senile ramblings, it's time we greet our visitors."

ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles
Yua Smith

There was an unspoken conversation that lasted for mere moments between Felix and Yua. Perhaps Isaac was expecting Felix to object and scold her and Isaac for such an idea. Perhaps Felix would speak up with a better plan or something else. And yet...not a word was spoken, not an objection raised. As Isaac brought up 'If Felix permitted' the well-dressed man looked over to him, a small nod of the head to him. "It is not my place to decide, I'm afraid. I will follow with the both of you and stay close. If worst should come, I will do my best to assist..." It was obvious Felix wasn't too terribly pleased by the turn of events, a slight frown on his lips before his expression returned to that stoic and firm expression.

The trio managed to load up into the craft without issue, a smaller vessel that lacked any weaponry of any kind. There was no regalia or branding on the side save for a 'KT' on the doorway into the vessel proper, the same sort of 'KT' that was on the collar of her shirt. No finery or showboating about it...it was a very fast craft and could outpace most of comparable size, and anything larger could say goodbye to hopes of catching up to it. But it was at the end of the day just a civilian vessel, a very expensive one granted...but a civilian vessel all the same.

Felix took to the helm in short order as they set their course, Yua peering through a window to the landscape down below as they travelled. She had folded her hands behind her back, thumb slowly worrying and rubbing at the palm of her prosthetic. There was so much devastation as far as they eye could see....ruins, weapons, craters...and undoubtable buried deep beneath it bodies in the ground. More than she could ever fathom for certain...the spirits that were tied to this place, if they remained, would no doubt have been angry, sad, and bitter. She didn't want to interupt Isaac as he reviewed his book, and Felix was focused on his own work. So...with little else to do, she simply watched as the plataeu drew closer. As the old man spoke, she looked over to him with a pause, giving a firm nod then as she took a moment to steel herself. "Of course. One can hope it's not going to be an...unpleasant greeting. If it should be, I'll do what I can to make sure it is smooth. Felix, you'll be coming down with us once we arrive, won't you?" "Of course, Ms. Smith. We're almost there now..." As the outpost came into view and the vessel came to a pause Yua took a deep breath before starting for the door, the Gila Monster that was always near to her scurrying its way into the pocket of her shirt.

Jet Jet

"I pray your words are accurate as they are wise, in time my pessimism may prove folley." He wished for nothing more than to be proven wrong in his prediction, but people were shit and power corrupted them. He doubted anything would ever really change. He wasn't going to argue with optimism though, so he nodded along and hoped for the best.

Soon the conversion moved to teachers and who'd make the best one, drawing a laugh from the reserved centurion. "That's quite a stretch." He smiled even if Evaline was misguided. There were far more qualified teachers. Theseus was his mentor and though he used lightning instead of earth, he knew more in his toe than Kwame's whole head. "If Theseus were here you'd outclass me in a fortnight, not to mention those at the academy."

He found himself feeling looser around them, more comfortable despite the shadow over his head. He was a brooding man but even with Kilderkin walking beside him, he'd be his most pleasant self. "You know." He looked at Kilderkin with a humorous shimmer in his eyes; as if he knew what humor was in the first place. "The trick to being humble is self loathing!"

"And worry not," he said to Evaline. "You'll get the hang of war soon enough. We're programmed for it even if we shouldn't be; a lingering echo of when we were monkeys swinging through the trees."

"Though I suppose not everyone supports the theory of eminent adaptation." He was rambling again and he was aware of it, but that was halfway the point. He was tired of discussing revolutions and killing this man or that man, and how miserable everything was. They would eventually find the resistance but until it actually happened, he would talk about anything else.

"On the matter of teachers." He looked over at Kilderkin. "Who taught you a trick like that? I've never seen such an... inventive use of corpse defilement."

His brow raised as he watched the body scrape across the ground, bumping over piles of rubble and trash. It was one hell of a view. "Not that I've seen much corpse defilement in my days, clearly my crowd is far too stale."

Fred Colon Fred Colon Emphoa Emphoa

Last edited:
ea8489b17198d88455df2bcbcbb67465 (1).jpg

There was nothing like a man flustered and fumbling over his words, especially when he was cute and fun to be around. His brain was melting and Mischa cackled at his confusion, wiping away tears as she took a long, meditative breath. It wasn't easy to stop laughing but eventually she contained herself, sputtering once before Rat, with nearly superhuman timing, chimed in with, "Why, Miss Mischa, wouldn't it be you?"

Leon went dangerously red when the words reached his ears, and Mischa suppressed another laugh. "I was hoping it'd be me," she said with a shrug. "But oh well. You can't win em all."

Mischa wasn't being fair to the poor lad, he wasn't smooth and she knew as much from day one, but smooth men were usally terrible. Their game was from experience with more women than she could count, and they usually hooked up and bounced when it suited them. There was a certain charm in being honest and expressive in one's feelings, and Leon most certainly did that.

Mischa tapped his arm after a moment passed. "You'd make a good lead yourself, you know?"

Her gaze turned to Rat as she said the last word, both men would make a good lead in her estimation — but now wasn't the time for those thoughts. It was tempting with how tenuous their lives were, how enemies could descend on them at any time. How they were risking death every second they stood there. But on the other hand, maybe it was dumb to seek attachment right now? Maybe it was irresponsible and stupid, setting herself up for more pain in the end?

Whatever the case was, they weren't done investigating yet. There would be time to argue with herself later. "Nope there's nothing down here, just old socks and a few spiders in spider cove." Her gaze traced the room for any remaining clues, but there was nothing of any importance, only a small useless pendent with a hydra symbol. It was old and rusted with a scuffed silver lining, and it meant nothing to her or the investigation — but it was cool enough to steal on the way out.

"We were in fine shape for how much we drank, and what were we supposed to do? Ignore the giant liquor cabinet? I say it's his fault for not locking it up!" Her smile returned as she stepped into the sun, checking the area for the other group. "What's taking them so bloody long? I thought we were the slowpok—

Mischa trailed off as she noticed something in the distance, a ship hovering towards them like a cloud. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

"Shit." Was the only word she managed as the worst played through her mind. That whoever raided the base was coming back for another run, and this time they were the targets.

Emphoa Emphoa Goliath Goliath
Last edited:
hair (3) (1).pngFor a brief moment, Ren though about how this reminded him of his Grand Dad's shop. Shelves full of parts both big and small, half finished knickknacks and the like. The warm lights felt so similar to the place Ren spent his entire life in, but it didn't feel quite like home. He realized then that nothing probably ever will again now that his Grandfather is gone. The whirring from the toy he found finally stopped, and with everything silent all Ren could think about is how alone he was now. When all this is over, he'll have nothing to come home to but an empty shop.Just before Ren could succumb to melancholy, a voice finally spoke up and made the boy flinch like a small bubble popped in his face. Ren immediately looked up to find a man leaning over the side on top of a shelf he had just passed. The man welcomed Ren then went on as a good salesman should. It felt so familiar.

"Saying a lot with few words..." the boy mumbled to himself. He looked up at the man, then followed his glance towards a window. The sounds of Horse hooves clacking against solid ground, carriages and well dressed men denoting high society, a stark contrast to the destroyed exterior and ruined streets Ren had seen before. "What?" Ren uttered. None of this made sense, not even the ground he stood on. He had so many questions but then one became clear.

Damian eventually introduced himself properly, and then Ren squinted at him. It dawned on the kid at last. "Wait, I remember you!" He pointed up at the man with a sort of shocked enthusiasm. Shocked at the fact Ren would find this man in a place like this in some strange twisted reality that existed somewhere outside of time or even space. Not that Ren could articulate that. "We met at the Games... you gave me a card." He began struggling with his bag of tools as he made mention of Damian's white business card, and upon pulling it out, started reading it to himself as it's black ink was written out loud. "Damian O'Garnder... Procurement Specialist... Address:..." He trailed off for a moment, realizing this was the exact place their lead was taking them. "...16 Kolasis Lane." Ren took his eyes away from the card and back at Damian.

"Where exactly... are we?" Ren asked the man. He found it strange that Damian knew him by his first name, He didn't remember introducing himself. Perhaps he knew Ren from the DQ he received. It wasn't a pressing matter, understand how this place seems to exist in it's own bubble felt more important. He felt like he was on the verge of uncovering a great mystery.

Jet Jet

Lost Echo Lost Echo rozukitsune rozukitsune Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3

Zak was tired of the hall monitor correcting him at every turn, like he was a screeching bird that wouldn't go away. It wasnt the part about dying like a fool that bothered Zak. He could appreciate Ivan's comedic blunders and how he missed the bloody joke, because that was the point anyway. He was playing the fool and reactions were always grand, but the part about Macragge was pure lunacy. It was a place where a man could be a man without worrying about the law, where a fistfight solved more problems than it caused. Where people found their own way and made their own mistakes, without lords digging in their business.

Yes life was cheap but where was the problem? Had Ivan never paid attention to humanity? They were worthless and more were born every second, and few did anything of note. Zak saw nothing wrong with how life was valued on Macragge, because from where he stood, life didn't have value at all.

"Life's cheap but so was your mum," he said with a smile. He wasn't going to debate human life like a philosopher on the street, but trading one liners? That was his bread and butter. "Think what ya want mate, don't matter to me. It's the only place where mans actually free. Not even here with all them lords doing the lording, even if they act down low like the rest of us."

"Cause the way I see it, Macragge is the only place where the best ones a winner. Even here the best live in huts while whats-his-name lives in a keep, but fuck do I know? I'm just a fool that'll freeze to death."

His words were laced with sarcasm. He was going to survive no matter what happened in the north; he was certain of that much. There were ways to use his power even if it wasn't ideal for his destination, all he needed was a bag of dirt.

"No need for your lessons biggun, you do your thing I'll do mine. We'll see how far you make it." He looked away as Mavior said his piece, and boy did Zak have a lot to work with. This guy was just too weird to make any sense of. He talked like a kid roped to the wall of an abandoned library, with books as his only source of socialization. It was truly baffling to the craggy. "Yeah mate, but what if you could ya know? I would go back in time and kill me great grandad just to see what would happen."

Arnheid crossed her arms as the men bickered back and forth, leaning back with her head tilted the same way.

"I have decided you are hopeless," she said. "If ice does not crush your ship into pieces. If beasts do not devour you. If storms ebb and the sea is calm as a sleeping baby, you will kill each other anyway." She looked back at Ivan. "Your knowledge of the cold is impressive yes, but ice flows must be second nature to you."

There was a book covered in dust sitting on a shelf behind her. "It is not written in your tongue, but there are drawings for the young ones."

Arnheid tossed him the book and faced Mavior once again, eyes softening for a moment. "For you I pray the safest of journies, follow the guide and you will go father than any outlander."

"For you are not the first ones. There have been many who come with full hearts and empty heads, seeking to chart what lay in the land of green skies. They come with metal ships and many dogs to pull sleds, yet none ever return. We find them years later adrift on the ice packs, bones picked clean by who they called friends."

"I will do what I can to help — if it means his sword will return to me." She popped another chest and fished through the contents, returning with a bottle of blood and some rope. There was no hook but she only had one of those, and she didn't like them enough to buy another. "I do not have a hook," she said. "You can have these on the house, as your people say."

EldridSmith EldridSmith ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles

Last edited:
Baryn's relief was short lived as the kid couldn't understand him and seemed frozen in place. He didn't even pay attention to Euclaire's movements until she knelt down and smiled at his apology. She put him at ease in regards to his group, and quickly stated how to cover things up should they go sour. He nodded in response, this wasn't the first time something like this happened... the revolutionaries in Zuanshi had to hide things to keep spirits high. Tessia waved it off, admitting she would fake listening if she wasn't interested. Though he did appreciate her surprise at his fluency in several languages. He had to learn many languages to escape Zuanshi with his band, he was the linguist of the group, still it didn't do them much good in the end.

Tessia then inquired about whether the girls actions were normal. "No........ maybe different cultures?" He posed the question in a concerned tone, clearly anything but optimistic about those chances. At this point he wasn't overly keen on Euclaire's suggestion on taking the kid with them. They had survived out here on their own till now... right? Surely they would be fine without them... Tessia's reaction to the kid broke the silence as she waved at the kid and talked to them before giving up and saying Euclaire should give it a try before admitting that the group was full of lunatics and optimsitic idiots... or well at least she was. Baryn didn't consider himself either, and Euclaire at most was an optimist even that much was unlikely.

Tessia proceeded to suggest Euclaire addopting the child, much to the look of shock on Baryn's face. "Absolutely not, too many variables." He wasn't a genius in anything but music, but he had a rudamentary idea from history regarding the concerns of disease, diet, and cliamte being too vastly different. In his reaction he didn't notice her expression change until Khan started to flicker out from under him. Whatever it was doing was giving him a skull splitting headache even worse than what he was hit with in the arena. "Not this shit again." He stated through gritted teeth before he and Euclaire fell off of Khan onto the ground. "TURN IT OFF SOMEHOW!!!"
Jet Jet Monbon Monbon
Kilderkin let herself stretch her sense out again, looking for flowing water, particularly for water in small amounts that moved without flowing much, indicating a person with fresh blood on them.

"As to whether we'd get a worse monster, or something better, the important question is... what do you think of Lord Vincent, Kwame?"

Kilderkin gave Evaline a small smile.

"Not much combat experience? Well, then, I'll be honest. I'm impressed that you're taking everything in stride, Evaline. I like people that can keep their heads. It's really the most important thing, at the end of the day. No matter how strong or fast or dangerous you are, if you can't keep your head, if you can't think? It's only a matter of time before you're dead."

Kilderkin wondered if the two really would train together. It would complicate things, but she thought she could work with Evaline if it came to it. Well, she would have to see how she did in battle. She'd have to see if any of them even survived.

She glanced back at the corpse and then at Kwame.

"Necessity is the mother of invention, as they say. I've always been fascinated by the human body. It is mostly water. My 'teacher' was a doctor in a place that doesn't matter. But he wasn't teaching me this. He taught me all the bits and pieces of a person, and then I applied logic. My goal was to strengthen myself. Control myself. I could access the water in myself, yes? I just needed to know where and how to move it, so as not to damage my own body." Or at least damage it less.

Kilderkin lifted a hand, and for a moment she levitated off the ground, before lowering her arm, and setting herself back down. "I can lift the water in myself to fly, a little. Shooting water at someone is so... unimaginative. As I said, keeping your head in battle is the most important rule, but the second most important is to let your enemy underestimate you. Don't let them know what you can do. My skill set is one thats easy to hide. It's easy to pretend to be a glorified water gun. And then, when they close in? When they think they've gotten me?"

Kilderkin let the water in her arms swell, and grow, giving the appearance of muscle. This isn't how she would have done it had she been fighting. She didn't need to make her muscles grow like that, but she was showing off, and she didn't want to actually smash or crush anything, as that sort of thing always took a toll on her body.

"I held an airship in place, once." She said. "With my bare hands."

And the effort of that had ruined her muscles for months. Elemental power or no, a normal human body wasn't built for that.

"So any strongman that thinks to overpower me is going to be in for a surprise. Similar to speedsters. My body, powered by my element, moves at the speed of thought."

"This power is how I escaped from you, Kwame. I stopped my heart, but used my powers to keep my blood flowing, ever so slightly." She looked at his face, to see how he took the information.

"But anyway, it was a simple, logical jump from that point to using corpses as well. I know anatomy inside and out, and the water inside a corpse is unprotected from my power." Kilderkin gave a small, inauthentic laugh. "Ingenuity creates nightmares, as well as wonders. I'm sorry to say that mine created a nightmare."

"I'm trusting both of you with this information. I like to keep these things secret. It's easier to win a fight when your opponent doesn't know what you can do. Plus, most find the corpse thing... unsettling. Try not to spread it around."

Kilderkin really didn't like sharing this information. She had been revealing too much about herself to too many people of late. But hopefully, this was a seed that would help them trust her more. She wanted them to be able to work together here, and perhaps beyond.

Jet Jet Emphoa Emphoa

The ship descended like a feather floating to the ground, dust billowed from the bottom as her engines powerfully whirred, slowing the craft as she stopped by the buildings. The clearing between them was a perfect landing spot. There was enough room for the ship and the landing ramp as well, but Isaac was impatient. He looked back at Yua and said, "Keep yourself safe, I'll ensure we're dealing with friends not foes."

He merged with his familiar and jumped down from the ship, wings flapping to slow his fall. He grunted when he landed and his knees threatened to snap, but they decided against it in the end. "Well met," he said to Mischa, Rat and Leon. "Who leads your company?"

Dalton overheard the commotion from the dense thicket of trees. He patiently watched until Isaac asked who was in command. "Grab the girl," he said to Ilana before striding from the forest, hands crackling with electricity. "Sure as shit ain't them, but why are you askin' questions? State your business old man."

"No business," Isaac said without turning around. "These lands are like gunpowder and the fuse is almost lit. The presence of a centurion could spark a fire that destroys what little peace we have."

Dalton pretended to frown as he stopped ten paces away, planting his hands on his hips. "Well wouldn't that be a damn tear-maker." He stroked his chin and churned his bottom lip, pretending he was lost in thought. "But then again, them spags shoulda considered that before killing Kade."

"Perhaps that's true," Isaac said, turning to face the young centurion. "But what do you hope to accomplish by coming here? Do you seek vengeance?"

"What are you?" Dalton said. "Some kinda witch doctor, local mayor of Mudsville? Don't you got some huts to build?"

"My name name is Isaac, mayor of New Acadia. I can assure you we have more than enough huts to go around, my only concern is keeping the peace so they're not burned down."

"You don't talk like a spag," Dalton said. "Where you from?"

"A distant place, where life is measured in discarded scraps of silver, but it's of no consequence now. What matters is the safe harbor I offer you. In exchange I request you use—

"Discretion in the manner you conduct yourself, and the recipients of your revenge."

"Sounds like a sweet deal." Dalton coated his arms in lightning. "My only question is, what happens when I'm sleeping and you decide to slit my throat?"

Isaac looked at the centurion like a disappointed father, holding back a groan as he frowned. "Please! Why would I come alone if my goal was to murder you?" He smiled at the man. "There are women and children in my village, it's not a place for shedding blood."

"Since when has that mattered? I reckon you want to lure us in."

"I would never stoop to such depths." Isaac chuckled and approached the centurion, his palms out as he said, "Honorem et sortem."

Dalton blinked twice at the words. "Where'd you learn that?"

"I knew the Eighth Fleet. Theseus was a personal friend of mine."


"He often came here before the scouring of Acadia."

"And you were his friend?"


"Well shit," Dalton said. "I don't believe you but—

"Darius was his third mate," Isaac chimed. "I heard he became a centurion after the war."

"You know that old bastard?" Dalton's mouth curled into a smile. "Was he always such a dry piece of shit?"

"There's never been a drier man."

Dalton laughed in agreement. "You ain't bad for the mayor of Mudsville." He deactivated his magic. "We need a place to rest our legs anyway. You give us that and we'll keep your peace."

He was lying of course. There was no way he would step around eggshells in the west. It was a free combat zone for a reason. He was tired of sleeping on bloody hammocks around sailors though, so he would play house for now.

"We do got one little problem that needs sorting." Dalton looked back at the treeline. "Injured woman from the base, need her stitched up before she bleeds out, any chance you got a doctor?"

"As a matter of fact we do." Isaac smiled and looked back at the ship. "Yua! Come quick! It seems we're in need of your expertise!"

ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles Goliath Goliath Fred Colon Fred Colon ZackStop ZackStop Emphoa Emphoa
Last edited:

"I concur." He leaned forward with eyes ablaze and energetic. This was the kind of conversation he lived for. "Indeed his writings were an echo of his morose soul — what is it they say? Write from experience or don't write at all?"

"Though I think he was recognized for another reason entirely. It seems death romanticizes a man when it's self inflicted, a morbid interest in lost potential and what could've been."

"I suppose profit doesn't hurt though," he said before looking at the young woman. Her face was turned but her lack of a reaction — the way she stood there without paying him mind. That was enough to read her emotions. He would apologize to Giovanni when the club closed in the morning. He was supposed to build relationships not destroy them with chastisement. "I apologize for offending you madam, you must understand my attachment to these books."

"The written word is the most valuable thing ever invented. To transcend time and learn from those in the past — to teach those in the distant future." He produced another warm smile, but there was nothing behind it this time. He wanted to mend the gap between them but not because he cared, it was simply business with her.

"My obsession sometimes gets the best of me, but as to your name." He focused on Nihall once more. "I may be arrogant but even I have my limits, I can't see myself whispering my name in your ear."

"So Eliwood it is." He genuinely laughed for the first time in their conversation, finding himself happy for a brief, fleeting moment. Yet the moment was all he could have. The word business crushed him and he struggled not to frown. He wanted to spend time with Nihall but as with many in the Casablanca, they were here for a specific reason — a reason that didn't involve him. If there was one thing that really sucked about his job, it was how people came and went like leaves blowing on the wind. It made conversations pointless in a way. That no matter how much time he spent with those he found worthy, he rarely knew them for long.

"You're always welcome to return," he said with a distant gaze. He doubted he'd ever see Nihall again. "It would be a pleasure to spend time with you once more, and to see what defines you on the stage."

He stood and walked towards the door, looking back as he led them to the main room. "You certainly know how to spoil a man. I'll think of somewhere we could go — maybe a warm place where troubles melt away in the sun. That sounds quite nice, I think."

Anne Boolean Anne Boolean Lost Echo Lost Echo
Last edited:

"Indeed we've met once before, you've quite an impressive memory." He waited until Ren looked through the window, appearing beside it while the boy turned his head. He stood beside the curtain leaning back against the wall, taking a small bite from his apple. "The question isn't where are we, it's when."

"A time when this island was far more interesting, a myriad of scientists and engineers relentlessly pushing the envelope. Every week there was a new invention sure to take the world by storm." He walked from the wall with slow, plodding steps, ambling through the room. He traced his hand over the shelves and grabbed a metal trinket; a sphere with strange letters and swirling geometric patterns, carved into the shiny steel surface. He tossed it up and caught it before stopping in front of Ren.

"I had a feeling we would meet again, fate works in fortuitous ways. I wonder though, what it is that you seek? Do you truly wish to uncover who murdered those men in the factory, even if it destroys your life?"

ZackStop ZackStop
Last edited:
17b3e3f85e601ba01e60e75aa1366606_50 (1).jpg

"Yeah you're seeing this right, unless we're all hallucinating at the same time." He peaked around the wall but nothing was there; it was impossible but everyone saw the same thing. Their friend was gone like dust blowing on the wind, and Johan didn't have an explanation. He felt useless because that was the reason he was there. To give them guidance and leadership when the going got tough, and bland speculation was all he could offer. That maybe someone had taken Ren with a weird mythic power, or a trapdoor opened beneath him.

"There are mythic powers that could do this, maybe someone's watching us and took him." He merged with his familiar and his ears improved a hundred times. He sensed the heartbeats of those around him. The insects skittering on the ground. He could hear the swaying grass and distant voices a mile away, but he couldn't hear Ren — nor was anyone watching them.

"Shit." he said with a grunt. "There's no one here."

"But that's a good idea," he said to Anya. "There's no risk and maybe it'll trigger whatever took him. I can go unless anyone wants first dibs."

He was doubtful but wanted to be optimistic. If anyone needed to be composed and put on a brave face, it was the one leading the operation. He was fighting to urge to punch a wall because losing anyone was unacceptable, especially a kid who barely had a chance to live. He tried his best to bury his frustration as the seconds ticked on, with no sign of their vanished friend.

rozukitsune rozukitsune Lost Echo Lost Echo ZackStop ZackStop Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3

Last edited:
Zulan patiently watched the events before him unfold like it was some kind of movie. Gailene's sister, who was here for some reason, are reunited, Renee promises to be collateral, their Guide tries to stop Renee, and tries to properly parley after agreeing with Charlie. Which is followed up by banter, before it's revealed they killed the centurions. They assumed the group was here to avenge them. Regardless he was getting wrapped up in another plot. It seems fate put the price for his freedom astronomically high. Maybe this was just his just deserts. Regardless things weren't going to be simple. Especially considering the gaze he could see from Irina, similar to those of his prior captors weighing whether he was worth using or killing.

Charlie on the other hand snapped at Renee in her own way, though it apparently came with her resentments towards him dropping, at least temporarily. He would have to work on his abilities, the McCraggies clearly didn't flirt normally. He would have to inquire about proper courtship in the chaotic country later. In typical Charlie fashion she proceeded to insult the one threatening them. Though he was grateful she aired his hidden resentments as his alliance wasn't to Nye or Nahzir or anywhere anymore, he just wanted to be free and as it stood, not associated with anyone.

Granted she then proceeded to insult him, but he didn't mind considering he did in fact screw up earlier and needed to improve himself. Still he did wish he left a better impression than that. "Though I'd prefer not be used as such an example, she is right, you are quick to presume allegiances. I'm trying to escape Nahzir's forced conscription without having a target on my back for life. Considering your eyes it's clear to see aside your sister you see no value on our lives, but what about those of your men? I'd much prefer we solve this without violence. It's better to know where our cards lay before playing them after all." He remarked, his preferences laid out clearly, but not hiding he would fight.
Jet Jet ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles Lost Echo Lost Echo rozukitsune rozukitsune
Last edited:
hair (3) (1).pngRen's eyes shifted to the side after then man had repositioned himself incredibly, or maybe even impossibly quick. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as Damian went onto explain the shop's unique nature, scooping up an orb with a metallic surface while approaching the boy nonchalantly.

As Damian tossed up the trinket, Ren nearly saw it in slow motion while it traveled upwards, turning slightly. He took note of it's strange inscriptions, a language perhaps, not like he knew it. The metal sphere had a strange ominous air to it, but he couldn't pin point why. Meanwhile, Phalanx was slowly walking out from behind Ren, paying more attention to the man as his companion was to the artifact.

"M-my life?" The boy stuttered, unsure what the salesman meant by that. What mysteries did this slaughter hold that was so dangerous? More over, Ren questioned how this man knew so much. First his name, now the case they were currently investigating. Had he been watching them somehow? He was starting to get suspicious. "Factory? Murders? You know about all that?" Ren said, take a couple steps back, clearing his throat before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Fortuitous, yeah!" He nervously fixated on that word. "but wouldn't that contradict your feeling, a little?" He paused for a moment before elaborating. "I mean since uh, it's all random. Y'know, like, chance! Like poker rather than chess." He was quickly losing the analogy, mouth getting dry and tongue getting sticky. "I never really liked poker because... I never know what I'm gonna get. Like running into someone you only met once in an equally fortuitous scenario!" The boy paused for a moment then gave an innocents smile. "M-... maybe you're more of a chess guy."

Jet Jet
Bracken was almost thankful when the ship came. It was something to distract him, an immediate something to deal with, rather than having to hear more of Daltons 'wisdom'. He didn't doubt Dalton had seen the worst of what the 'spags' had to offer, but Bracken had a suspicion verging on certainty that this was because Dalton shot first and asked questions never rather than extra viciousness on the part of the 'spags'.

He was reluctant to leave the woman alone, but it seemed like Dalton had told Ilyana to deal with her, and Bracken didn't know how to approach Ilyana to offer assistance. She seemed prickly, and Bracken was in no head space to navigate the finer points of human interaction at the moment. So he followed Dalton, meeting up with Mischa, Rat and Leon as the ship descended. He gave them a nod, his bow in hand just in case.

When it landed, though, it was apparent that there was no immediate hostile intent. Emerging from the ship to Bracken's surprise, was a familiar figure. Isaac, the leader of New Acadia was known to him. He did some trading there, from time to time. He wasn't sure if the older man recognized him, though. Bracken did his business, interacted with a few people there, the mayor not usually one of them, and then left for the forests again.

As Dalton spoke, however, Bracken became embarrassed by affiliation and began to *hope* that Isaac didn't recognize him. He unconsciously moved away from Dalton, as if that could truly distance him from his association with the Centurion.

"New Acadia. Safe." Bracken said, as if Dalton would give a shit about his opinion.

Jet Jet Emphoa Emphoa ZackStop ZackStop Goliath Goliath ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles
Vixie didn’t bother responding, just pointedly turned the page. It was poetry. Ugh. And depressing poetry at that. No wonder the pale man liked it. It probably was the only thing that empty soul could relate to. The two of them continued to speak, apparently Nihal knew the author. Or he was good at bullshitting. Vixie didn’t care which. She continued to watch--it was more interesting than the poetry--but she was surprised when the singer suggested rejoining Bean. Maybe he could tell Dante was a liar too? As he offered to come back, her eyes widened. Maybe not.

Still, she stood as their guide headed to the door once more. Leaving the book on the chair--in an admittedly obvious attempt to annoy Dante--she waited for Nihal. Then in a daring possessive move, she linked her arm around hi, before nodding at Dante: a mixture of yes, we’re ready and I’ll keep him safe.

Anne Boolean Anne Boolean Jet Jet
Narzas new 4.jpgNarzas noted the growing concern in Johan's body language and nodded to Anya's suggestion. "Good idea." Johan had a bat, and Anya a Crane-like bird.

That made the stealth mission choice pretty obvious.

She drew her right hand up to the side of her head and lifted a finger to her ear where what looked like just a string of extremely fine, nigh-invisible arches sat hanging from the body part. The rings immediately flexed in response to the closeness of her hand and in seconds the tiniest of creatures - a diminutive white spider; uncurled itself from her ear and delicately crawled onto her finger, shivering in quiet expectation.

The assassin then reached the hand out and placed it upon the nearest pillar to the site, "Go, Sara." She ordered gently of the half-invisible arachnid as it rapidly disappeared around the arch of the broken architecture.

White against white, it was basically impossible to tell when the spider actually disappeared by watching it's progress... however if one were watching Narzas herself instead: they'd immediately notice a change overcome her as her spine stiffened and she shifted from barely touching the pillar to half resting her weight upon it, her skin growing pale as her cheeks grew lightly flushed as though she suddenly had some kind of fever.

Her eyelids fluttered shut as sweat beaded on her forehead and she grunted softly, resting her head against the rock as she tried to focus on her familiar. She felt so cold... the sudden change of her inner equalibrium reminding her all to easily of the few times in her life when she'd come down with an illness. She'd not had time for such things back then, nevermind now. Showing weakness was usually severely punished by her mentors, and so she'd gotten used to pushing through even the worst of fevers or else suffered more at the end of a whip.

"He is... there." She murmured as her focus helped her see from her familiar's point of view, every ounce of her strength of will directed at the task at hand, ignoring the way the alteration of her senses made her stomach churn unhappily. Going from feeling warm to feeling cold in short order was not a change easily accepted by a human body. One was meant to acquire either at the slow change of pace that was the change of the seasons.

"He is... not alone." She added after a moment, clinging to the pillar for strength as her own was sapped by her body's reaction to this strain on her soul. Every second that passed eroded what strength she had like a pack of Piranha had been set upon her and were slowly but surely chewing every inch of her down to the bone.

She opened her eyes and scrunched her brow, then dragged herself around the edge and half stepped, half tumbled across the invisible barrier between realms - vanishing from their sight and into the shop, losing her grip on the post that no longer existed and sprawling, gasping onto the floor of the entryway.

Well, at least she wasn't cold anymore.

ZackStop ZackStop Jet Jet Lost Echo Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3
Last edited:
Reneé staredRenn 4.png blankly as just about everyone except for Zulan backhanded her figuratively across the face for her attempt at sacrificing herself. Inwardly, what little self respect she'd managed to hold onto throughout this endeavor crumbled, shattering into a thousand pieces and she felt her inner fire sputter and die.

Once again it was like she was back at the arena; everything ruined. Everything lost.

She crumpled into a puddle of human and lost all interest in the standoff that determined whether any of them lived or died. Who cared? What was the fucking point? Ultimately nothing she could do would matter. Nothing would change what had happened. Nothing would save her from this nightmare. No one cared she was here. No one would care if she suddenly wasn't anymore.

She slumped into herself on the ground and sighed, defeated; staring emptily at the alley around herself like a forgotten life-sized doll.

Lost Echo Lost Echo Jet Jet ManofManyRoles ManofManyRoles EldridSmith EldridSmith
Last edited:

"There's no cause to be nervous my friend. You've been hoodwinked by tales where the unknown is foreboding, filled with death and destruction and ethereal fire — all manner of loud, absurdly inaccurate noise. This is a much safer time than where you come from. Here you won't find the impending threat of doom above your shoulder."

"But to your point." Damian wandered as he spoke to the young man, dusting shelves and straightening displays. He was quite the shopkeeper. "Feelings are not facts and much to my dismay, I am not omniscient. I had a simple hunch and now it's come to pass. You are here and what you seek is well known to me. I deal in knowledge as much as any material good, but it comes with a price."

He raised a brow and maintained eye contact with the boy, even as a familiar skittered through the room. He could sense the energy radiating from the spider. It was a familiar feeling but perverted and twisted by the human spirit — bastardized even.

"Welcome Narzas," he said as she slumped to the floor, turning to face her with his hands out and open. The warmest welcome he could give. "I wondered who the next guest would be, consider me surprised! You were my third choice."

"I extend an offer of friendship, a union between what you seek and what I seek, but while we hash out the details—

He wandered to a teapot steaming on a small burner, made with an enchanted flame stone. "May I offer you tea for your troubles? You look awfully pale."

ZackStop ZackStop rozukitsune rozukitsune
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread