Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Even though Edelweiss tried to repair her words, the dagger was already laid in Sayvahn’s mind. “The truth and reality are very different in his mind.” Sayvahn stated, drifting onto the new topic, the grin he wore, fading to a weary frown. “He has no ties because he doesn’t want them, not right now. I’ve tried to build them, but he rejects me.” But not you, it seems. Even if you say so, he’s told you more than me, Sayhan lingered for a moment, his hand, twitching in what— anger? Sadness? He didn’t have the energy to tell. And on her second to last point, Sayvahn laughed. “He may have me, but he doesn’t want me dearie. There is a difference.” A very painful one. But, that was life, wasn’t it? Dealing with pain. “And no forgiveness is needed. Speak your mind, whether it be short or long. I know I do.”
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Apr 11, 2016 1:13:59 GMT
"There's only a difference if you do mind the outcome." As Sayvahn had just stated he did not barely a couple minutes ago. For someone who truly only wished for another's happiness, and not possession over them, it wouldn't hurt. At least not in a level that couldn't be ignored. Although, Sayvahn's mask of selflessness crashing did make his plight a lot more complicated and painful to him in her view, and also more easily understood. It was such a human demeanor. "And if you do, patience..." Lasair just lost his parents barely a month prior, for heaven's sake, and it wasn't the type of distant family or prone to fighting - as far as Edelweiss was aware of, the redhead man was close to his parents and adored them from the bottom of his heart. Plus the fact he witnessed their (gruesome) deaths first-hand. She could understand perfectly why he might need space and time from everyone. She would need it too - and in fact did, but for different reasons. "I'm not a threat to you though." No matter if Sayvahn believes it or not, nor if he ressents or is otherwise bitter towards her or not - it wouldn't change that fact.
"Edel." The redhead turned her attention from Sayvahn to the children. They had mostly stopped practicing, trying to watch something eyes still couldn't catch. "Noises." Edelweiss had to stop a second and listen. There was something, yes. Maybe voices, she wasn't sure, but also a faint methodical click of metal. "Get up on the trees, you all. Right now."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Furrowing his brow, Sayvahn glared at her. Instead of an angel, maybe the Crimson being was more like a Snake. “This isn’t about my relationship with him. I’m referring to my support. He doesn’t want my help.” Sayvahn stated, grabbing at his short croped hair and closing his eyes. But was it really? Could the feline accurately say that he didn’t mind his feelings not being returned by the firefox, without some level of doubt? No— he didn’t mind. He wouldn’t mind. But if only the redhead could acknowledge the barber, instead of ignoring him.
“I do have patience. But I know better than to cross that boundary and expect something. Lasair is going through a lot right now, and I’m afraid I may have ruined any chance I may have had a long time ago.” But that was a story for another time. Even as Edel offered herself as not a threat, Sayvahn didn’t consider her as one. A threat was different than what the feline felt. A threat was something that only endangered, but Edel, Edel proposed something different— an end, perhaps. Edel was the barber’s end if one thought about it, but for entirely different reasons than what the guild leader could presume.
And then, the children. They spoke, calling out to the woman, complaining about voices, and Sayvahn listened, and faintly, he heard it too. People. But in the forest? How could that be? No one entered the forest, at least, not since the war. Furrowing his brow, Sayvahn got up, crouching somewhat as he looked to Edelweiss. “Seems like we have visitors, and I’m guessing, not the pleasant kind.” Pushing back his glasses, he straightened, already reaching for the knife and kindling in his bag. “So, how do you want to approach this then?”
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Apr 11, 2016 1:58:21 GMT
Were it not for the 'visitors' they'd soon be having, they could keep on talking of that endlessly. Starting with clearing what each of them understood 'patience' as being, since they apparently had adopted very different definitions for the same word. They did have an impending distraction demanding their attention right now though. As Sayvahn made his last question, Edelweiss was already making her way up the lower branches - meanwhile the children scattered, each choosing their own tree to climb. "Preferably, seeing them before they see us." She responded while reaching down and offering a hand just in case the man with glasses wish for help climbing. "And then decide whether they should spot us or not altogether."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Goodness, one person asks a simple question and everyone starts climbing trees, Sayvahn noted, relaxing his tense muscles and putting away his tools. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” Sayvahn stated, taking her hand, although he was already climbing up with the other, nails digging into the tree as he pushed himself up. Once on a high enough branch, the barbered lingered, lying against the wood in an attempt to illicit some comfort out of the situation.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Apr 11, 2016 2:31:40 GMT
Silence stretched for a minute, then two, and then was switched by the paced rhythm of multiple steps. The voices, that must have been normal at some point even if unintelligible, changed into quiet mumbles as 4 figures walked into the clearing, first sticking by the borders and then separating in duos, one walking up to the lake and the other looking whatever could be seen, analysing the area, scouting around. Metalic steam boots under simple long coats seemed to reminisce of Castamere as they clicked and tinked softly upon the grass. Edeweiss couldn't make sense of whatever words they were occasionally saying, though with how long they lingered one could only hope those weren't planning on setting camp or have a leisure nap over there. There was another pause, some more talking she couldn't understand, and the four gathered up again looking ready to move ahead... Until one man spotted something on the corner of his peripheral vision, walking up and crouching down to examine a bag seemingly misplaced on the forest's ground.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Metal. Sayvahn could hear the pieces scratch, grinding as gears turned and steam whistled. Four soldiers entered his domain— his lake, looking around, peering, desecrating the blond’s sanctuary. These were the people that had shot him. These were the people that had killed Lasair’s parents. The feline’s fingers itched, craving to reach into his satchel, to retrieve his knife. He never was like this. Not before, when the barber’s memories were still surprised, not before, when he couldn’t remember. But now that he did remember, the feline couldn’t wait, couldn’t be patient. “Cut them down,” Damien seem to whisper in his ears, and Sayavhn slowly raised his hand, as if to prepare to cast a spell.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Apr 11, 2016 7:20:30 GMT
At the moment the main thing being desecrated there was the bag. Edelweiss wasn't sure what they were even doing with it, maybe checking for explosives or for something that could identify the owner of that mysterious object, but all it was doing with surety was messing its contents and scattering it. Pearl's snacks were done for. Although the forest was no one's private property and therefore couldn't be claimed as such, it did feel like they are invading - and considering all things going on, non-Lodanite armored people couldn't be seen as anything but that then. She could see Sayvahn's clear impatience towards those four uncalled wanderers as well. Would he manage to wait until they are gone? Avoid conflict as a whole? Didn't seem so.
There were 4 of them, meaning if Sayvahn can put up a fight that would be two for each of them to handle. Those weren't simple miscreants either; she could probably get one from a distance (two would be an unlikely lucky stretch) before they notice her up on the tree, but that was only accounting with those boots being the only armor they were wearing and she couldn't be sure if there were any other pieces.
Edelweiss remained standing on the branch a brief moment while thinking what would be the best course of action, but someone else broke the moment of tense contemplation - and it wasn't Sayvahn's fault at all. One of the kids in a farther tree was spotted. Guns were being fetched and raised almost instantly, and she'd rather be dead and dry than waiting for them to take aim. From the remaining trees there was only silence, and the afternoon breeze waking the leaves. The redhead glanced at Sayvahn and barely mouthed a "Do what you want." before moving a foot off the branch, and dropping over the nearest soldier to the apple tree.
The feline didn’t need a signal. Hatred snared inside of him, blood, seeming to drip between his fingers as magic crawled, scalding his fingertips. Memories licked at him, transforming with his magic, purple and green, lurching, bending, as they jumped from the barber’s hand to a smaller portal, swirling by his side. The blond anticipated it, that sudden cold chill as the sealed area opened, the beast’s mouth, widening to let the older man reach inside. In the corner of his eye, the feline saw it, the red, flying— no falling, to the ground but Sayvahn didn’t look, couldn’t look, couldn’t lose concentration. Not when he had so little time to act. Pulling out the bag that had slept, chilled in the other world, Sayvahn grabbed a grenade from its contents, and, with magic, the barber set the wick on fire. One. Sayvahn raised his arm. Two. “Get down!” The feline flung it his perch on the apple tree. Three. It flew, nestling near the soldiers, too near, too far, only time would tell. Four. Sayvahn reached into his bag for his knife. Five. Explosion.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Apr 14, 2016 20:52:51 GMT
Screams. While Sayvahn's own warning alerted not only Edelweiss but also the soldiers enough for them to duck or fling themselves away, the exploding grenade still caught someone's legs - the steam boots seemed to have resisted more damage than the flesh, but still overheated from the explosion and a gush of hot steam escaped from varied slits. The man who now lied on the ground letting out inhuman screeches of pain was probably wishing his legs had been cut off by the explosion rather than slowly cooking stuck within his own armor. The remaining two determined Sayvahn was a more iminent threat than Edelweiss, and focused on him. One aiming a gun, the other a long tesla knife, aiming to take him down before he takes anything else out from his 'witch gate'.
One down, two counting with the one Edelweiss had dropped on from the tree before - although that second one was just out cold from hitting his head on the ground. The redhead didn't turn to watch. It'd be a waste of time, and she didn't actually feel mirth from any of it. There were two more to go still. This is not the city, but a clearing in a thick forest - a sanctuary of those who seeked peaceful solitude, to practice magical skills hidden from the public's judging eyes, or both. In that place, the only people with whom she shared company were the children she watched over, one MI worker who'd fight along her, and these foreign soldiers no one in Lodan would miss. There was no need to beware of loud noises, bright lights, messy scenes, extravagant magic, or screams for help. Even throwing grenades, like Sayvahn had just done, would be fine too. No one else who'd judge would hear or see and last to tell the tale, and that being so, there was no need for her to keep all the precautions she bore in her usual job. In fact, this wasn't a job, it was her defending herself and her own against a potential threat. She didn't have to be subtle. She didn't have to be clean. And the most relevant of all... She didn't have to restrain herself.
[Kinetics V casted] Her hands slipped in and out her pockets as things around slowed down to almost a halt in her eyes. A twirl. Wire glistened in the static scenery, cutting through the air in blurry curves. A few moments earlier, they had interrupted the children's dance. Now they'd bear witness to her own.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Eyes. Eyes were on him, gleaming behind visors, between slits in the metal. Gazes that lingered, that raised guns and knvies, aiming toward the lanky feline in the tree. Sayvahn laughed, lounging against a branch, body spread, as if begging, as if threatening, “just shoot me.” And oh, how his spine quivered, the muscles twitching with the thought of the bullet leaving the gun, of entering his flesh, digging in and reclaiming that awful sin that lurked inside. Just take me, it seemed to plead. But then, those scream of the fallen soldier— Sayvahn hadn’t heard those screams in a while. Hadn’t realized how much they meant to him, or how much they reminded the barber of what he was. The smell of burnt flesh carried to his nostrils, and the feline smiled. Yes. He remembered that, too. First, of Castamere, of Lasair. His parents, crushed, the fox’s current mood, sparked from these fifthly bastards. And then, of Damien. Burning. Roasting. The muscles torn, ripped, because why waist meat? Why waist meat, why waist meat, why waist me—
Then, wire. Slivers, encasing, enwrapping. Sayvahn’s body stopped. Unmoving, static, watching, knowing something, instincts, halting. Stay and watch, his stomach lurched, portal beside him, closing. Stay and watch, stay and watch, Damien seem to whisper, stepping forth from the smoke, stepping forth to be cut, to be splintered by those wires. Watch the blood bath that is to come.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Apr 19, 2016 0:36:57 GMT
From a normal perspective, that scene would have lasted 20 seconds - the timeframe of an usual Kinetics spell, enhanced by the first Augment. The sharp wire glistening in the air, slicing thin lines, weapons falling down, then bodies falling down, wire retracting - and red, of course, though it didn't last on the ground. Red liquid slipping from faces - hardly seen slits open at eye-level behind the helmets' own slits. As it dripped down, droplets seemed to drip back 'up' and meekly swirl around the redhead for a couple extra seconds before gathering as a crimson globe hovering above her palm. She tossed it in the lake, to dissolve in the water and be washed by it. Just a Health trick, gathering blood spilled from the soil. It'd be a waste to let it taint the green grass.
"Did you freeze, Sayvahn?" Edelweiss asked, looking at the man on the branch above. Her face showed a calm, almost gentle facial expression. From his posture before, and tossing that grenade, she had thought he would put up a fight against those soldiers, or at least give her more of a hand. Instead, there he was, an open target to them. Did he want to be shot? Or did he in fact intend to move but his body froze from panic? It was hard to tell. But it wasn't her place to judge. "You can get down."
The man with the boiled legs was still screaming and weeping. While one might argue he at least was still alive, that man had already crossed the point of no return in her eyes. Dragging out his misery would be cruel. But for that helmless one just a simple hit on the nape would do. The screams were exchanged by silence, and the whistling afternoon breeze.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Blood, pooling, wrapping around, swirling into an orb, into a bowl. Sayvahn stared at the guild leader, had watched, has seen the fight, had sensed it in his bones. Had anticipated, but never realized death could be so clean, so effortless, so seamless. But that pool, it gathered, by what, telepathy? Perhaps. Taken from the bodies, the blood rose, rolling, then carried to the lake to be swallowed by the surface, tainting the blue mirror into that of red. The woman spoke to him, but he merely stared at her, at her form, at the red of her hair, at her eyes, how the burned with that unholy color. An angel. To kill with barely being seen, thin wires as her messengers. An angel of death, the grim reaper, a hunter. Just like Anemwei, Damien seemed to sing beside the feline, and Sayvahn tilted his head, a grin, crossing his lips. “I was mesmerized by your beauty. I wasn’t aware the entertainers leader was so elegant in the art of death.” Sayvahn stated, green eyes gleaming from behind the brim of his glasses. “To think you were so much more into the offensive then the defensive. How interesting.” The feline purred, jumping down, just as advised. “It seems that you have a hobby that you keep hidden, hmmm? Now, pray tell, how did you ever learn a trick like that?” The man enquired, taking a step toward the woman.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Apr 19, 2016 5:19:50 GMT
Beauty? He had just watched her murder 3 people (albeit invading violent people) and he found that 'beautiful'? Edelweiss couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "I don't know if I'd call it an art. Or a hobby, for that matter." In the same fashion Sayvahn had earlier affirmed swaying isn't the same as dancing, her job also wasn't the same as a pastime. It had a different meaning, and function altogether. Life - and vanishing life - was something much deeper than just being a way to pass her hours... and differently from art, she didn't feel any joy from death.
"To not die." She replied simply when he asked how she learned a 'trick' like assassination. It lacked information, but wasn't a lie. It was her main reason for becoming what she did afterall. The second reason was... "And to protect what I hold dear... though it never stopped me from failing." Ironically enough - but another truth. "Is it really that surprising?"
Meanwhile that, the children climbed down from their hidden spots, and Pearl reapproached to retrieve her bag contents - or what was left of them. What had those brutes done to her cookies and cake pieces? She had taken hours to bake and stash everything... but... that wasn't her bag. It looked like her bag, but the things inside weren't hers. Where is her bag, and why was there a red dress in this one?
There was an art, a beauty, to everything. Edelweiss proved that. She didn’t see it, but the death, it was so much more pristine, so much more elegant then— Skinning people alive? Damien seemed to chime, and Sayvahn paused, staggering somewhat as he tilted his head. How strange. This urge, this willingness for death. Sayvahn didn’t know how to feel about this realization, this concept. The feline never truly had a preference for life or death, obviously desiring life, of course, but now— now what did he hunger for? For death, for blood, for that pool that he dove into so many times before to be of red, and not crystalline blue? Edelweiss seemed to answer his inner thoughts. To not die? Oh, for the reason why she knew how to kill. Yes, of course. But the answer, it seemed to echo, seemed to tangle in his mind. Did he… actually want death? And if so, what was wrong with him?
The feline listened, eyes, flickering between the dead bodies and the Crimson Angel. To protect what she held dear? What did he hold dear? Corey appeared in his mind, but the boy, he was gone. And Mala, the barber cared for her, but only one face kept flashing through his mind. A redhead, with a golden ring on his lips. Yet, the image hurt, it ached within his chest, and the blonde stared at the woman, at the guild leader who held both elegance, and maybe, his guild leader’s heart. “It’s not surprising. Not surprising at all.” That he would chose you. That he would love you. That he needs you, and not me. But, the feline heard rustling, watched as children descended form the trees and hovered around the ground, but that isn’t what caught his eye. No, what caught his eye was a young girl, scavenging through—
“Don’t touch that!” Sayvahn hissed, rushing over and wrenching the bag from her fingertips. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go through someone else’s belongings?” Sayvahn stated, holding the bag tightly in his hands, for inside it held the red that he wanted, that he needed, and not the red that seemed to call out to him, that seemed to haunt him, over and over as Damien laughed by his side.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Shoutbox
Welcome to the Shoutbox - If You Have Discord, Ask to Join the Discord Server