Sarah Lee
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Soldier, Poet, King
The Creed
Posts: 483
Trainer Class: 
Player Name: Barack Orama
OOC Username: Ladybug
Arena Points: 35
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Post by Sarah Lee on Jan 23, 2023 23:52:16 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/835125283592994878/1066892036604690532/E-h9_E0WQAowJsm~jpg
Sarah's personality sunk below the surface, like a crocodile.
There was no need to fight back right now. No reason to fight the delusion! Her stats were rising, and as the party opened up and people start mingling the atmosphere became downright pleasant!
"This is far better than the last coronation," Sarah said, Engaging with 22. The young man had been on his own, milling around at the base of the King's Statue. He started at her words, and adjusted his glasses. "Don't you think? I far prefer the open are events, though I'm sure the feast will be sublime."
"Mmmm, yes. Quite!" said the NPC, in a feeble attempt at conversation. He clearly wanted to be alone, but it was those that hid in corners that saw the most.
"I'm Duchess Sarah of Whitehouse," she said, forcing the conversation onwards. "And you are?"
"Count Hedgemon of Greentuft," he managed.
Well, at least the NPCs were named appropriately.
"Now Hedgemon, I'd like you to help me out. Something small, but awfully important. Can you do that for me?" she asked, looking directly into his goggled eyes and not at his emerald green hair.
"Well, I don't know. I'm kind of busy with-"
"With what? With the statue? I promise this will only take a minute."
He sighed, defeated. "What did you need help with?"
Sarah smiled, and moved a half-step closer. "You see that group over there?" she asked, pointing towards the cluster of 18, 19, 20, and 21, who were laughing and drinking. "I need you to introduce me. Loud and clear."
"But I don't know them! Well, not really."
"Even better. Now come with me." He tried to back away, but Sarah followed artful, her heels clicking loudly on the cobbles as she corralled him into a larger group. As they approached she slipped her arm into his, locking them together at the elbows to prevent his escape.
They forced their way into the conversation and everyone turned to look. First at Hedgemon, and then at herself.
She kicked him subtly in the back of the foot, the toe of her shoe sinking into the meat just above his heel.
"Ah! Presenting Duchess Sarah of Whitehouse!" Hedgemon said, blinking back tears. "Sarah, this is everyone."
She kicked him again, but there was already a rippling among the group as they pushed to introduce themselves. Apparently being a Duchess was a 'Big Deal.
"Earl Slamson of Breakcourt, at your service!" said 18, kneeling with his hammer on the ground. His golden armor gleamed, and Sarah extended a hand for him to kiss.
"And we are all brothers," the man holding a scythe. "I am Count Cleft of Willowbank, and these are my younger brothers Viscounts Twain and Buckle."
In minutes they were chatting and laughing, and Sarah could feel the tug of her influence growing. The parts was starting to orbit around her. She was the star at the center of this little galaxy. Six people wasn't much, but it was a start, and if she pulled enough eyes to her corner of the party, then perhaps she would draw the most important gaze of all: The Princess'.
FFkGnSdC1d4{Guest List}
18: Earl Slamson of Breakcourt
19: Count Cleft of Willowbank
20: Viscount Twain of Willowbank
21: Viscount Buckle of Willowbank
22: Count Hedgemon of Greentuft - ENGAGE - No effect
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diva
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Player Character
Posts: 173
Trainer Class: Charmer
Player Name: allen collins
OOC Username: cupid
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Post by diva on Jan 24, 2023 0:14:22 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/273948810382671884/1066895540010360852/Kaguya~Hime~SINoALICE~600~3329977~jpg She was happy to comply with what needed to be done. After all, that was what she was there for. Her purpose. To take care of the guests within the Palace. And the Princess. Of course the Princess. There was something edging in the back of her mind about there being someone else she should care for. But that thought was gone as soon as it came. This was the only important thing. And it was then that she was informed that... Some of these guests were not guests at all. They were
a̵̛̮̥͖͊̾͗̇̒͒̆̓̈͂̂͝͠ ̴̭̈́̅̄̎̚͜t̸͎̝͖̣̜̔̂͆́̏̎̌̊͒͂h̸̩̿͗̍͒͋̾̀́̒͘r̶͓̳͎̹̯͖̞̳͔̠͖͍̝͙̎̓̀̉́̀͌ê̵̲̭͔͖͔͈̱̬͍̜̥̼̺͐̄͌̅͐̔͑̆̕͜͝͝ȃ̷͈̪̟̍͛̈͌̌͐͐̆͠t̵͖̲̳̼͚̟̘͈͎̮͚̞̰̘̔̆̇͘͝ͅ
a disruption to the Princess's special day. Which was absolutely unacceptable! But there was something she could do about it of course. After all, a servant did whatever she could in order to make sure that their Princess was well taken care of. The vial in her hand slipped into her glove instead. For easy access. If some of these guests were not supposed to be here then she would make sure to take care of them. With a smile. After all, taking care of them was her job... Even an intruder was a guest for the moment. Carefully she went to grab drinks, her hand gently moving over the cups in a show of making sure they were clean, and that the poison was well and truly inside of them.
She had chosen a
l̸͚̭̻͇̪̻̞̙̳͖̜̞͔͙̈́͒̐̌͊̀͠ͅe̴̛̻̰̟̒̓̆͒̔̅̒̚t̴̗̼̤̭̋̑̽̔̄͠h̷̩̣̘̞̜̪́͗͗̆̿̅̑̄ȃ̶̹̱̯̱̟͚̺̆̔̕͘ͅl̷̦̙̠̜̣̘͖͉͉̩̫̭̬̩̞̔̆̐
dose to make sure that they went to sleep so that they would not cause trouble. After all, the less people who were here to cause trouble, the less likely something would go wrong. And nothing could go wrong today. It had to be perfect, she had to be perfect. Her eyes lowered she approached some of the guests, choosing one that seemed to be the likeliest to cause problems in this event. A soft smile on her face that was fitting for that of a servant as she approached guest number 25, poisoning them in the midsts of conversation would be a breeze. At least one that was befitting someone of her station.
"Would you care for a drink? The Princess has prepared only the finest for her guests this evening."
The guest looked up at her, monocle pushed to the brow as they nodded quickly. "Of course of course. It would be rude of me not to accept. After all, I am Lord Juniper of Pinetreeland." Even if they did look a bit on the nervous side they were still willing to try and push their name forward.
D̸̨̧͉̹̞̹̹̥̣̼̳͉̲̙̅̋̊̓̐̉̆̆̕͝͝ͅi̷̧̪̖̫̟͇̜̻͚̒͐̃́̈́̆̀̚s̴̡̧̧̡̢͈̪̬̦͕͐̚͜g̸͙͈͙̬̘͔̪͙͇͖̙̱̖͋̈́̀͐̈́̄̈́͐͠͝ͅͅu̸̟͙̣̬͖̖̤̟̖͇̾̀̅s̸̞̪͍̥̞̦̲̘͕̻͕̣̎̊̌̆̈́̈́͌̀̈̈́͝͝t̷̛͖̥͈̎̉i̵͕̔̈́̇̂̚n̵̛̛̙̖͔̯̮͍̫͔̦̘̹̩̫͌̈͒͋̋̉͐̍̈́̎̆͝͝g̶͓͙̙̽̆̂̋̕͜͜͝͝.̷̼̥̽̎͆̅̂̐̾͌̒̑̀͘͠͝͝ ̷̻̫̙̟̜͕̐̀̂͊̍̆̚͝K̷̨̲͎̏̐͑͛͊͐̏̉͗̈́͂̕͘̚̚i̷̡̠͎̰͔͇̯̤͗l̵̨̛̹̫̣̹͙̳̫̦̦̪̼̂̋͑́͑̓̅̓̽͘͘͜͠l̵̛͖͔͕̙̯̭͕̰͓̟̲̪̯̒͆͒̏̋̎̿̈̉͝.̸̱̦̦̿̾̑͂̓̾͊̊̂̂͠ ̵͓͍̩̫̞̑̃̂͑D̵̡̡̲̞̙͊͂͒͋̈́̾́͆͑̚͝i̵̛̮̭͕̒̋̅͊s̸̢̲̜̤̓̂͑̿̔̅̉̐́͋͛͆͠͝͝ṕ̵̨͔͚̟̮̇̃̍̐̇̉̂̈́̇̀͂̋͂ö̷̡̢̳̭̻͈͎̱̣͇̜̰͔̪̳́̆̿͋̈́́̇̆͗̃̕s̶̻̑͗̋́͋̂̽̒̌̎́̕ȩ̷̛̬͖̹̹̰̩͛̄̿͐̿̓̐͊̀͜͝͝͝.̶̧̨̪͖͕͎͓͙͎͔̺͕̯̜̦͌̆͛̈́̈̊̏̐̆̀̄̐̚͘͠
But she smiled once more and lowered the tray of perfectly normal drinks, allowing the person to take one before she moved on, not wanting to stick around for too long. But at least Sarah Lee was doing an excellent job of holding the attention in that portion of the courtyard. Who would notice a servant when a noble was commanding attention? Soon there would be less guests, and everything would in fact be perfect again.
FAVOR: +1 | INFLUENCE: 0 | TIME: 6
egR3xQHK1d4
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Tuesday
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Battle Legend
The Creed
Posts: 1,602
Trainer Class: 
Player Name: Martín 'Mars' Marzán
OOC Username: Stells
Arena Points: 138
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Post by Tuesday on Jan 24, 2023 1:11:08 GMT 9
#s://img~nickpic~host/Czh0Tx~png When you have nothing left but dreams and memories, when illusions appeal more to you than reality, the abyss will show you a world full of wonders."Hahahaha HAHAHA AHAHAHA!"The maid barely has time to register the change her surroundings before her attention is stolen away, M00K:Claw's whispers in her ear not being nearly as enticing as they once had been. She can't trust this woman. Yet, in her mind there is something, a memory... Hadn't C.L.A.W come to her aid when she had needed it? Hadn't she once cared for and been proud to belong to The Creed? It's so hard to remember... Maybe she had just imagined it... Maybe it had been no more than a dream... "I am Viscount Ri'val of the Tu'torial Moor. I'm sure you've heard of me! My collection... say, mixture of tunes is known far and wide."Huh? She looks to guest 14, crimson clad and with an electric guitar in hand. He speaks to guest 15, not her. Good. After @orionayge, she's not in the mood to deal with any more brutes. The Alchemist may be long gone now, no more than a distant memory, but when the maid holds onto the poison, it feels right. She remembers. She knows what to do next. Viscount Ri'val of the Tu'torial Moor is left behind, as is his companion. Unnoticed as maids often are, the golden cat weaves her way among the crowd, planning and preparing until her tray carries a dozen elegant champagne flutes. Bubbling golden liquid fills them all to a suitable height, each and every one looking identical. Identical only appearance."You. Bring those here."When the maid humbly approaches a group of nobles who mingle with a familiar Sarah Lee, the tray is given a subtle spin to move a glass away from the Duchess of Whitehouse. "Champagne, my lords and lady."She does not meet any of their gazes, yet in the corner of her eye, she sees Viscount Buckle of Willowbank (21) take the POISONED glass. Sadly for him, it's LETHAL. All those who can't be trusted must die. The maid will protect her princess no matter what. Knowing how fast the poison will take effect if it does take effect, the maid silently disappears among the crowd, a cat in the night. <Target invalid.>... <CRYOGONAL <ANCILE> identified.>Viscount Buckle of Willowbank vanishes into an icy mist. Mismatched eyes widen in the darkness, and at that moment, an ice cold chain wraps around the maid's wrist. A chain made of ice itself. It's grip isn't tight, it does not hurt, it's... protective. Welcomed. Cherished. Ancile.When the maid meets the gaze of the Cryogonal who still dutifully serves her, the smile upon her lips is warm and honest. qb7WA2sF1d4
FAVOR: 3 | INFLUENCE: 0 | TIME: 7 1d4 |
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Cleo
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Soldier, Poet, King
Player Character
Posts: 107
Trainer Class: 
Player Name: Olivia Rivera
OOC Username: Izzy
Arena Points: 30
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Post by Cleo on Jan 24, 2023 1:22:51 GMT 9
#s://media~discordapp~net/attachments/656837544247558144/1066742461642321950/transparent~png "Bah!" Lord Rob Inhood (15) exclaims, drops of wine spilling atop his shoe. He turns to glare at the skittish servant he'd bumped into, as if it were all her fault for not dodging his rowdy gestures. Beside him, the guitar-wielding Ri'val of Tu'torial Moor hides a smirk with a sip of his unspilled wine. "What are you standing around for? Fix this!"
Cleo's heart sticks in her throat. Fix how? Please, sir, be more specific! But the question sticks too, choked down by the vice around her mind. No questions, just do. "O-Of course, my lord, just a moment, my lord!" She turns to leave.
"Ahem! What about my drink?"
What about it? "Right, my lord!" She spins back around, holding her hands out as a makeshift tray. She smiles graciously as he sets the half-emptied glass of wine in her hands. Cleo curtsies, then immediately scurries away to the backtrack of their conversation, fading into the shadows just as easily as she fades from their memories.
Cleo sets the glass among a tray of other used tableware being carried back into the castle kitchens.
It's as she's acquiring a fresh tray of drinks that M00K:Claw's velvety voice rakes along her spine, small bottle pressing into her free hand. Cleo's brows furrows, questions bubbling inside her again. She looks to the bottle, then back up – but she's not supposed to ask anything and the servant is already disappearing into the crowds.
It takes her a moment to understand. To really, truly understand. She had to fix things. This was how. She could fix everything!
Smiling, she pours the clearly meant to enhance the experience bottle's contents into the drinks, several drops each, and hurriedly returns to the two nobles. They say nothing to her approach, not even disrupting their conversation.
"You keep staring at the 'Duke'. Pray tell, are you considering a marriage proposal, Ri'val?"
"Ha! Surely you jest. There is no land or title they could offer that would make me consider her. No, I simply look forward to seeing how much of a fool she makes of herself."
Lord Rob Inhood (15) plucks his lethally poisoned drink from Cleo's tray, sparing her no attention – she is but a floating tray, a tool designed to serve and deliver. And she is happy to be that. So very happy.
Cleo continues her rounds, eager to continue fixing.
"So have you heard—hey. Hey! What's... what's wrong?"
<Guest 15 has died>
<Servants +1 Influence>
It seems they'd need to get the clean up crew out.
QZjUwjyM1d4 FAVOR: 1 | INFLUENCE: 1 | TIME: 11 1d4 |
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ibis
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Player Character
Posts: 123
Trainer Class: 
Player Name: Pace Mahmoud
OOC Username: Evan
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Post by ibis on Jan 24, 2023 2:54:09 GMT 9
Furrlicity Purrfection called him over, and Ibis came like a dog. He tilts his head, only briefly, thinking the hell is this guy on, talking to me like I'm his slave?, but the half-thought disappears amongst the sting of what feels like a migraine, only worse, and suddenly he's beside the good King Purrfection and apologising for his lack of knowledge. It was his job to stay in the know, after all - what good was he as a servant if he couldn't even answer why the palace's gates were shut? "Apologies, my liege, I-"
The distraction of the UI's alert, and then of CLAW in his ear, tears him away from his response, as it does just as quickly for the King himself. In fact, more distracting again, there seems to be a veritable crowd of well-to-dos jostling around the courtyard alongside from them.
<POKEMON NOW IN RANGE!>
He had so much to do, so many little things to be on top of - who to serve, importantly who to serve first, so as to not cause drama amongst the nobles who thought themselves nobler than the others. And more importantly than that... what to serve them. Ibis had played this specific game before... he had wormed his way up, hard and quiet. Service was lower class, of course, but there were classes even further below the waiting staff that Ibis had once belonged to, and it was not a love of work nor respect for the gentry that had pulled him into the class of servants - it was whispers, bedchambers and poison. It felt comfortable in his hand, like a glove.
<POKEMON NOW IN RANGE!>
Hm... that was right. The little speck in his UI reminded him that his pokémon was nearby... somewhere. It was peculiar, because he didn't remember bringing Risha - wait, who specified Risha? Risha... Ibis shook his head, focused, and moved into the crowd.
He ducked and dived between figures, unseen and unheard outside of his offerings of drinks and small, delicate little foods on a tray he held focusedly straight. The Princess was as important to his, right now, as dust - she wasn't here, after all, out with the rest of the them. He was to serve, and serve he would.
Past 16 and 17, to whom he politely bowed and offered a sweet wine.
"-should have seen the look on his face." 16 took a drink without so much as interrupting his conversation. "Ser Jasper, you must try this." He clicked a finger towards Ibis, who offered a drink to 17 - the aforementioned Ser Jasper - who responded with a sip and a smirk.
"Cacturne fruit, is that? A delicacy, so I've been told, Robin-" Jasper takes a quick, sharp look at Ibis once more, who bows his head. "...Count Ravensford, that is." The awkward air of obvious conversation stalling tells Ibis it's time to move on.
Next he comes across, far more interested in his hammer than on much else, is the good Earl Slamson (18). Ibis watches him for a moment, and watches some more. So headstrong, he'd heard of the Breakcourt Earl... so focused on everything external. Ibis drips something, just for a moment, atop a magikarp canapé, and sways his way past the Earl, offering the plate gently. Slamson barely looks up from his loud conversation before taking a bite of the poisoned food, and Ibis is gone, unseen once more.
mXXmozUW1-4
FAVOR: 0 | INFLUENCE: 1 | TIME: 14
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manish
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G.A.Y.
Player Character
Posts: 493
Trainer Class: 
Player Name: Manish
OOC Username: GreySquid
Arena Points: 10
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Post by manish on Jan 24, 2023 7:46:50 GMT 9
Manish lifted his chin higher as an attempt to escape the tightening of his collar. ‘Don’t let them see you are uncomfortable; men like us don’t get uncomfortable,’ the voice in his head whispered. Yes, that’s right, what was a little tightness around the throat? It was nothing he couldn’t handle. There were worse things in the world than being a little uncomfortable. Like the echo of pain in his arm. Pain in his arm? Why would there be pain? What a silly thought, not worth thinking about. After all, the party had started. Manish snagged a champagne flute from a passing by cat girl servant. They really would hire anyone these days. How embarrassing. <Pokemon now in range!>Manish was pulled from his thoughts at the popup. Interesting. A pokemon in range? How nice of them to let him know, usually they just jumped out of bushes at him. No, that’s not right. He would never put himself in that position. Focus, Manish. He slowly twirled the champagne glass in his hand and gazed at the other guests. ‘Watch those that are drinking. Someone drowning themselves in brandy might spill some secrets.’ He went to take a drink, but only put the glass to his lips, never actually drinking the champagne. ‘Remember my love, make them think you are vulnerable, but never be vulnerable. Don’t let them hurt you again.’ Some faces were vaguely familiar from other parties or ran in similar circles. Across the court he caught eyes with Duke orioncayge . Now that was someone he knew. Flashes of a house party, dances at his mom’s house, a starry void, blood, hopelessness, companionship, brotherhood forged by a red string and constellations…What? No, that doesn’t make any sense. None of that makes sense. Manish briefly shook his head to get his thoughts in order. Ah yes. That’s right. He saw Duke Orion at an art gallery and they exchanged pleasantries in front of a starry painting. Manish raised his glass in the other man’s direction and gave him a wink. ‘Your looks won’t last forever, use them while you can.’ But that was enough dawdling around, it was time to mingle. But who with? There were many odd characters around. Many with weapons. Interesting. Well, if others were bringing swords to a soiree, he would just have to make friends with someone carrying a shield. ‘Ingratiate yourself to someone powerful, someone who has what you lack. Use them.’ Manish stepped close to his shield wielding friend. “My, aren’t you just all decked out for a party? Tell me, do you know something I don’t?” He gave a soft chuckle to let them know he was telling a joke. “Oh where are my manners! My apologies. I am Duke Manish Jolitt of Amanita Phalloides.” He offered out his hand for the other to take. “Lady Richtung, Marchioness of Schneeland,” she replied, gently taking his hand. Manish gave a bow and gently brought her hand up to give the back a soft kiss. No, that wasn’t right. That’s not who he should…the hand was too soft…the only person he wanted to…but who would he…? ‘Someone beneath you, someone you shouldn’t pay attention to, he’s only using you, you’ve given him too much of yourself. Pay attention to who is in front of you: someone worthy of your time.’ It took all his strength to not choke, noose around his neck growing just a little tighter. Manish let go of her hand and gave a dazzling smile. “My Lady Richtung, what a lovely name for a lovely woman. Just know that if swords start swinging, I’ll be counting on you,” he gave another chuckle at his own joke that wasn't actually a joke. N3oV_VIG1-4
FAVOR: 1 | INFLUENCE: 5 | TIME: 17 1-4 |
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Valentine
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Soldier, Poet, King
Player Character
Posts: 186
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Logan Denman
OOC Username: Haberdasher
Arena Points: 60
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Post by Valentine on Jan 24, 2023 9:55:16 GMT 9
<Pokemon now in range!>
The pop-up startled Valentine, and a handful of half-formed thoughts came to mind before she shook her head to clear her mind. It was an error, perhaps, nothing more. She didn't need to worry about Pokemon, not now. All she had to worry about was taking care of the guests.
Taking good care of them...
Which was why CLAW's note to her scared her more than anything. What kind of a servant did this CLAW person think she was? She was here to help, here to serve the princess, not... not that, certainly.
But as the guests mingled and Valentine started her rounds, the thought kept coming back to her that maybe CLAW was onto something. Dishonest nobles couldn't be trusted, not around real nobles, not around the princess. Something had to be done to figure out who really belonged here and who was just pretending. Besides, the fewer nobles she had to serve at once, the better service she could give to those that remained, which was especially important when the servants were so outnumbered...
She wouldn't do anything drastic, of course. She didn't want to really hurt anyone. But a night spent huddled around the toilet wouldn't hurt anything but some idiot's ambition. No real harm done there, and if it prevented the princess from coming to harm, from being deceived by these intruders... well, nobody had to know, right?
As the event went on, Valentine could feel her objections to the act slipping away in between nobles looking at her like a distasteful piece of furniture, being ordered around by shouts and snaps, and getting yelled at for things that were absolutely not her fault. One jerk with a sword nearly knocked over her tray of drinks and just laughed when Valentine flinched away, and that was it. Valentine wasn't going to hesitate.
The next drink she served to that sword-bearing jerk was served with a smile, and with a little something extra added to it, and Valentine couldn't bring herself to regret it.
After all, didn't she know swords were dangerous? Really, she should have known better...
09ZEYVL51-4
FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 1 | TIME: 21
(To be clear: nonlethally poisoning #9 here) 1-4 |
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Sarah Lee
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Soldier, Poet, King
The Creed
Posts: 483
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Barack Orama
OOC Username: Ladybug
Arena Points: 35
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Post by Sarah Lee on Jan 24, 2023 10:17:47 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/835125283592994878/1066892036604690532/E-h9_E0WQAowJsm~jpg Sarah watched the servants slip between the nobles, darting like remora around sharks. They cleaned up the messes, they fed on the scraps, and as the first body fell they whisked it away to somewhere unseen.
C.L.A.W wasn't wasting any time.
As she laughed and gossiped with her circle of nobles some faceless servant slid past them, offering up a tray of refreshments. Earl Slamson of Breakcourt picked one of the snacks from the tray with a delicate grip befitting his station. He bit into the Magikarp canape and a notification appeared over his head. Target Invalid.
Invalid? That meant that this man was a Pokemon in disguise! Perhaps her Pokemon.
Sarah frowned. Why were there disguised Pokemon at this event? And where was Focus? What use was a retainer is she wasn't there to protect you from poison and daggers.
Sarah unlinked her arm from Count Hedgemon, and moved to Engage with 18, Earl Slamson of Breakcourt.
"So tell me Slamson, what connection do you have to the Princess?"
"The most common connection, Duchess. Not one of blood, but of nobility in common. Though I say that with only the humblest of intention, for she is the heir apparent, and I am the Earl of a small portion of the Briarbane Woods."
"Fascinating," Sarah said, meaning it. She noted that the guests could come from all parts of Asper, but offered no information about herself until pushed. It was always best to keep that mystique as long as possible. Make people want to learn about you. This wasn't about hiding information, for she could easily lie, it was about making others crave more.
"And you, Duchess?"
"I myself am from a far distant land, though in this region I have taken up residence in the Noonlight Hollow."
At this, Slamson's eyes went wide. "A most respected residence! Most definitely befitting your station, Duchess. And what of the lady?"
Is he talking about Moltres? Best to play it safe.
"She is all that you have heard, and more than you could ever imagine," Sarah said, her eyes gleaming like steel.
|A2DQbSf1d4{Guest List}
18: Earl Slamson of Breakcourt - ENGAGE - No effect
19: Count Cleft of Willowbank
20: Viscount Twain of Willowbank
21: Viscount Buckle of Willowbank
22: Count Hedgemon of Greentuft 1d4 |
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Yggy Br00ks
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Pikachu Fan
Round 2
Posts: 406
Trainer Class: 
Player Name: Kenneth Garfield
OOC Username: M00K
Arena Points: 68
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Post by Yggy Br00ks on Jan 24, 2023 10:30:38 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1028264618818289684/1066678520488669285/yggifer2~png "Aww, Manish?" Yggy asked as the Duke breezed past her, completely ignoring her offered arm. She was confused. Hadn't she been courtly and gentlemanly? Opening doors, pulling out chairs for people, stuff like that? Had she accidentally committed an etiquette faux pax? Quickly she dropped the arm and hurried after the others into the courtyard, dress shoes clicking on cobblestones. She felt nervous. Really nervous. Like she didn't fit in her own skin. Maybe I'm not ready for a noble gathering yet, she thought, finding a dark corner to stand in like it was an elementary school dance. She tugged at her tie to loosen it, palms feeling sweaty. The look on Manish's face had scared her. Orion's and Furrlicity's too. It wasn't that they all looked mean- in fact, they looked nicer than usual. Too nice. Like plastic masks held up over real people. She was still sweating, despite the pleasant atmosphere. What's going on? I feel weird.The air was sweet... "Yikes!" Yggy jumped when CLAW appeared at her elbow. "Oh phew, a servant. Thanks!" She took a cup of some fancy-looking nuts, hands shaking. She barely registered what the busty woman had said before the maid was slipping back into the crowd. What did she say? Some people aren't supposed to be here? Like... impostors? The discomfort which had been squeezing the young Duke fell away. Oh. No wonder everyone felt so different- they were fakes. And she, Duke Yggy of Yggdrasil, like a boy detective, had unwittingly stumbled into the whole conspiracy! The Princess would definitely notice that.She kicked casually around the courtyard, trying to gather information before making a move. Little cliques had already formed, houses of previous alliance and previous renown. Without her parents there to introduce her to everyone, how was Yggy supposed to start a conversation? She couldn't depend on the people she'd come here with. They weren't who they said they were. CLAW had told her. Who is CLAW?There was someone leaning up against a wall of the courtyard, off in the shadows. It looked like they were sitting on the ground, slightly slumped over. Were they drunk? Maybe they'd be a good person to get information off, then, Yggy thought, weaving her way towards the person like a weak wolf sensing wounded prey. Excitement rose in her chest. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked. "Can I get you- I mean, can a servant get you some water? Hey, you over there," she snapped her fingers at Cleo, "...Could you bring some water over? I think this guy is..."She trailed off. The nobleman's eyes were rolled up in his head, and a thin trail of foam was leaking from the corner of his mouth. Yggy's eyes widened silently. "Oh. Oh my god."She stumbled backwards, running into someone else's chest. There was a clang and a scream as the person behind her saw the body as well. "Lord Inhood! Oh, what folly has occurred here?""It wasn't me!" Duke Yggy yelled, panicking. She spun around to see a short little woman covering her mouth, eyes shining with horror. "Oh, shoot. Lady..." She racked her brains and the name came to her, suddenly, as if she'd known the noblewoman all her life. "...d'Mooka. Ann D'Mooka, right? Our dads worked together during the Reclamation! You know me! You know I wouldn't do something like...""What have you done?" Ann D'Mooka whispered. A single tear fell down her cheek. Yggy did the only thing that made sense. She ran.Running from the scene of the crime was never a good sign, but the blonde was too terrified to think straight. She bolted past the marble statue of the Princess and up the palace steps before running into what felt like an invisible brick wall at the top. < you can't go here yet! >"Crap!"Yggy turned and fled back down the other side, aiming for the far side of the courtyard. Yggy ENGAGES Ann D'Mooka (Guest #1)
FAVOR: 1 | INFLUENCE: 5 | TIME: 24
adkuToKu1d4
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Tuesday
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Battle Legend
The Creed
Posts: 1,602
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Martín 'Mars' Marzán
OOC Username: Stells
Arena Points: 138
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Post by Tuesday on Jan 24, 2023 11:18:07 GMT 9
#s://img~nickpic~host/Czh0Tx~png When you have nothing left but dreams and memories, when illusions appeal more to you than reality, will you allow the abyss to erase everything you once were?Tuesday. A voice whispers in the maid's mind, burning with anger. The ice cold chains tighten around her wrist, as if Ancile's presence were grounding her in this reality. Tuesday, what the fuck is this?
A maid? You?
You haven't done anything selfless in your whole damn life.
You don't serve people.
Get a fucking grip.No. No... He's wrong... She's a good servant. A great servant. The best servant. She's—...She... <'My liege?'> There is concern in the Cryogonal's tone, so rare for him to speak unless spoken to. He has always lived to serve her, but has she always served as well? Has she always served the princess? She doesn't remember. She pauses, lost, gazing towards the statue of her. The princess. The princess she has met before. The princess she—... Remember.
Remember... YOU ARE A SERVANT.
YOU ARE HAPPY TO SERVE.
THIS IS YOUR PLACE.
YOU DO NOT ASK QUESTIONS.
YOU DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO.
YOU WERE BORN TO CATER TO YOUR BETTERS.
YOU LOVE THIS JOB, SERVANT.
THIS IS YOUR LIFE.
FORGET THAT OTHER VOICE.
IT’S JUST TRYING TO DISTRACT YOU.
Right. The princess she serves. How could she allow herself to be so distracted? There is only one objective for the maid. Only one directive that brings her joy and purpose. Protect your liege.In this room full of armed strangers, that means only one thing: there is much work left to be done. She can't waste anymore time. The maid is swift, quick as a cat. Trays are swapped, from champagne to delightfully small hors d'oeuvres. She does not make a sound. She does not hesitate. She chooses a target and acts, a lethal dose of poison dripping onto an amuse-bouche. Who does she offer it to? Baron Tabin of Schwerty (10)Her reason? He's armed. She won't tolerate those who might bring her princess harm. "What is this? I—" Baron Tabin of Schwerty desperately reaches for his own throat, choking on his amuse-bouche (certainly not so amusing to the mouth now). The maid walks away, the steps of her heels silent against the courtyard's cobblestone. <You can't go here yet!>
She's spun. Standing in the cover of the darkness provided by a gate she can't yet cross, she watches the desperate baron that claws at his throat, her mismatched gaze not pulling away even for one second. <You can't go here yet!>
She fights the inexplicable urge to turn back that comes with the constant warning, watching as the threat collapses to his knees. She's done it. She saved the princess from him.<You can't go here yet!>
"You—... Help—...Pl—" He finally notices her, looking at her and begging for help. He cries, eyes bloodshot. He crawls, mouth dripping crimson. He convulses, the poison taking hold. A gently smile marks the maid's expression through it all. With her hands clasped together, she whispers a response, speaking only when addressed... but not to the baron: "Our Lady of the Precipice.
No one shall ever bring you harm.
I swear this to you on this Endless Night.
May your reign be an everlasting one."<GUEST 10 HAS DIED>
...
<SERVANTS +1 INFLUENCE>
The maid takes one step forward, delicate fingers lovingly caressing the circlet she wears before they move down to an apron's pockets. There, the cutting shard awaits. She will defeat all of the princess' enemies.<'My liege?'> Ancile appears by her side, his tone once more concerned. She looks at him, and when doing so, the maid is certain that this Pokémon will do anything she says. An ally. The only ally she can trust. The only one she can count on to do what needs to be done. Once again, she responds, for maids only ever speak in response: "Find C.L.A.W. Restrain her. We must prevent her from bringing harm to our princess. We'll kill her if necessary."A maid speaks in response and she acts in response too. In response to all the obvious threats all around them. <'As you wish, my liege.'>The Cryogonal disappears among guests and the maid returns to her duties and schemes. 1LyOGWRs1d4
FAVOR: 3 | INFLUENCE: 2 | TIME: 28 1d4 |
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diva
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Player Character
Posts: 173
Trainer Class: Charmer
Player Name: allen collins
OOC Username: cupid
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Post by diva on Jan 24, 2023 11:28:24 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/273948810382671884/1066895540010360852/Kaguya~Hime~SINoALICE~600~3329977~jpg An invalid target? Whatever could that possibly mean? She had no idea what target she could possibly have at all. After all. She was just a servant. She was just there to serve others. As perfectly as she could. With as much care as she could possibly muster. Making sure that they wanted for nothing. Needed nothing. In her mind a noble shouldn't have to ask at all for anything, for she should have already been able to anticipate their needs. Just like he... Just like he... Just like she had always done.
Ỹ̷̭͈͈̒̈́̊́̓͋̆̒̂͑̌̚͠ͅò̸͓̹͔̘̈̂̒̑̾͋͋̎̉̓͝͠ų̵̧͉͎̣̱͚̻̘͚̯̞͊̌̌͐̎͌̃̚͝ͅ'̷͙̰͕̟̬̳̑͑ͅŗ̵̱͔̠̜̞͈̗̗͉̬̖̜̖̭̏̊͒͗̒̋͝͝͠e̶̡͈͚͔͕̟͖̐̚ ̶̡̧̡̛̮̩̥̟̞͍̣̲̯̣̻̟̊̎̍͑͗̌̉̇̂n̴̩̻̼̥̣͕̦̫͈̬̜̽̃̉̌̂̆̾͛͛͝ͅo̵̡̪̘̜̹͖̪̗̖͇̙̠̓ẗ̴̛̗̝̻̣͚͆̉̂̏̍͋͝ͅh̸̡͕̝̐̓͋̈̔̅̕ȋ̸̧̹̣͚̥̬̠̺̻̞̝̈́̃̈́̂̿͛̈́̀͛̓͌̕͠͝n̸̜̖̰̅͆g̵̮̱͈͚͆͒̽̄͌̚ ̴̡͓̬̭̳̬̱̤̺͓̱̰̜̬̊͆̎̈́̚t̶̜̻̤̮̝̘͒͐ơ̷̡̢͚̗͚̮̼̜̪̥̣̱̇͋̒͊͌̈́͝ ̸̪̙̰̹̖̮̦̦̽̃͆h̷̨̯̝͔̼̯̪̮͔̭̖͆̑i̴̗̞̟̠̲͔̭͓̙̟̮͕̯͎͐́͒̐̀̑̈̓̒̇̀͑̈́̊͝m̵̯̼̠̤̈́̔͆̾̑̇̒͂́̕͜͝.̶̮͙̟̗̳̤̍̏̀́̓
But of course that voice didn't phase her. She wasn't anything to anyone. That was the entire point. This was where she belonged. Making sure that things were perfect for others. It made her happy to do that. And besides, there was no him here. Only her. And the guests. And other servants who seemed to be failing in their duties. Sans for one. One of them had done a very, very, very, good job in taking care of one of those pesky imposters. She would have to praise them later. After all, who didn't like a little bit of praise?
Y̸̨̛̲̟̩̝̬̑̈́̾̃͊̂̀͛͝͠o̴͖̲̱̲̘̜̣̖͉̭̔̈́͆̈́͋̓̊̄͜͝ͅū̷͈̭͎̘̺͗̆̏̀͂̊̓͑̇̕͝'̵̘͐̉̀̈́̑͆̅̐̔̔̋͗̌r̴̳͚̼̬͓͋̀̏̇͑̅̇̍̉͘̚͘͠͠ḛ̸̡̖̝͋́͑͒̇̎͛́͗͐͘̚ ̵̢̮̰͙͇̉͘n̸̡͚̥̺̤̫͔̣̐̉̉̿͆̿̾͐̚ͅŏ̶̩̥͚̹̰̱͎͇̗͈͎̀̌̀̌͘ͅt̶̨͍̪̗̫͕̭͙̣͔̜́̏̄̔͒̅͛͒̒̏͝ͅ ̴̨̞̘̦͙̠̻̖̯̟͛͜ͅẁ̷̨̖̠̖̺̯͖̺̝̽̆̒̓̎̆͆̌͋͘̕͘o̶̝̬̮̥͑͗͛̾̔̓̈́͜r̸̿͛͛͑̑ͅt̵͕͙͉͖̞͛̍̄͛̂̆̅͛̂͑̒̔͊̅͠h̸͉͓͈͚̆̈́͒͐̎̇̌͘ ̶̨͖̝̜̺̈́́͛p̸̼͚̪̤̃͋́̓̅̆r̴̝͎̮̤͎̤̳̄͑͌̔̽̚̕ã̵͈̲̈́̑͘i̴̻̋̈́̑̉̓s̶̛̬̤͓̪̺͉̦͓͉̫̮̮̆į̸̡̺͈̥͚͎͈̯̫̫̩͗͑͊̓̈͑̈́̒̉̌͛͝͝ͅn̴̜̖̥͇͓̱̻̩̹͉̦̭̫̩̅̆̈́͑̇͆̆̾̏g̴̡̛̯̮͖͙̠̖̠͙̻̘̠̬͊̓̾͜.̸̧͍͙͈͕̟̾͊̅͒̄͊͌̏͒̿̿͆̇
With a smile she circulated the room again, ready to find the next guest who appeared to be a little thirstier than the others. They were too loud and talking energetically. Garish in red... Red. Red. Red. She liked red hair. But she didn't. This one was too much. They had to be a fake. They had to be an imposter. There was no way that the Princess would allow someone like that to come into this sanctuary. This beautiful place where only the nobles and their servants should be. She must rid the garden of them. Now. And forever.
"You see I'm Viscount Ri'val of the Tu'torial Moor and I have my mixtape on me if you'd like to hear it in fact. Here let me dig it out of my pocket." Diva almost ground her teeth together as he spoke to another person. Her eyes stayed away from looking directly at him. If she did she might not have been able to hide her disgust for how blatantly he paraded himself around when this was the Princess' day. Not his. "You there, servant girl, you want my autograph? Right? You don't have to pretend you don't. Hold on let me find a napkin."
"I'm so sorry Viscount, but I simply wandered over to bring you a drink. You looked very parched." After all he had been talking for the entirety of the evening. It was a wonder he even had the energy to still go. But he simply took the poisoned drink and smiled at her before bringing it to his lips. "Excellent. Thank you." And then he turned away from her, immediately as though she wasn't even there as she disappeared back into the crowd to find another target.
FAVOR: +1 | INFLUENCE: 2 | TIME: 31
LKChsbw41d4
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Valentine
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Soldier, Poet, King
Player Character
Posts: 186
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Logan Denman
OOC Username: Haberdasher
Arena Points: 60
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Post by Valentine on Jan 24, 2023 13:36:47 GMT 9
Words hovered over the head of the sword-wielding noble that Valentine had tried to poison, thouh nobody but her seemed to pay them any mind.
<Target invalid.>
What did that...
And then, before the thought had even finished, Valentine put together the pieces.
Some people could be poisoned, and some weren't valid targets for it. Some people were meant to be here, and others were vile imposters. This, then, must have been what CLAW had been suggesting. The real nobles wouldn't be affected by poison, right? Being felled by something like that would be beneath them, naturally enough. So she and the other servants just had to root out the imposters and dispose of them, one way or another, so that the real nobles would get the best possible service and the princess wouldn't risk any undue harm by those who didn't belong.
And that must be why she'd seen other servants scurrying by with the dead body of a noble in tow. The thought of it was almost soothing. There weren't any real murderers on the loose, just herself and the other servants. And the only people that would get hurt were the pretenders, not anybody important. Not even the servants themselves, unimportant though she knew they were in the greater scheme of things.
The next time some ignorant noble--or, more likely, some ignorant fraud pretending to be a noble--nearly decked her with a weapon, Valentine didn't even hesitate. It was for the best. Either an imposter would be uncovered, or maybe she would find another real noble, someone who might actually be trusted. (As much as you could trust any noble, anyway.)
And that hammer looked even more dangerous than the sword had been. That could do some real damage! And the bit on the end almost looked like a crown--was that noble trying to impinge on the princess' royal symbol there? Valentine wasn't going to stand for that!
(What was with all these people dressing like they were ready for a duel, anyway? It was a party, not a battlefield!)
<Target invalid.>
When the words showed up again this time, Valentine almost felt disappointed... until new words took their place.
<MEW <WYNNE> identified!>
Wynne... yes, she knew that Pokemon... Pokemon? No, person, obviously. She knew that person. Lady Wynne of the Tour des Minettes... how did she forget? How could she forget?
Without even thinking, Valentine found herself on her knees, prostrated before the noble who was so dear to her.
"My liege... will you ever forgive me?"
Luckily, when Valentine deigned to make eye contact with Lady Wynne once more, the Lady's dark eyes were sparkling with kindness... and were those tears she saw?
FAVOR: +2 | INFLUENCE: 2 | TIME: 35
9t5|bd0S1-4
(trying to non-lethally poison guest 2) 1-4 |
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orioncayge
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Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class: 
Arena Points: 20
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Post by orioncayge on Jan 24, 2023 14:40:56 GMT 9
#s://i~pinimg~com/564x/5d/9c/9c/5d9c9c29bf38eddfee4c7c741028fcdf~jpg
And so the games began, with the sly whispering of a harlot who's words were poison in the Duke's ear. Orion would watch her as she strutted off, something in his head rumbling with consternation. The Duke and the player subconsciously agreed, though the OG Rion was fast asleep, enjoying himself a nice electronic nap that he'd been denied for so terribly long. Instead, the Duke would begin to play the most dangerous game.
Knife Monopoly Er, Politics.
Oddly swirling the brandy in his glass before taking a sip and remarking the wonderful quality and smoothness, he would saunter forward, lowering his harsh aura and forcing a...slight smile upon his lips. His grandfather had won their title through bloodshed, and had more often than not schooled the young upcoming Duke in the arts of war and intimidation. Thaddeus Cayge thought it was better to be feared than loved, and the family's reputation was known for his brazenness. Such crassness could go far, sledgehammers were oft quite effective at smashing through the soft egos of weak nobility, but any upsets and he might risk drawing the princess' ire. As if to sense the shift in his resolve, the spectral orchestra changed it's tune to match the moment.
He would take a sip of his drink, scanning the crowd before spotting a giant man in heavy armor. A most inappropriate attire for a party such as this, unless you were Ser Price of House Right, a just and noble knight who's lord was a bannerman to House Cayge. The man was always ready for action, to defend his court or country at the drop of a poisoned glass. He would lumber towards the knight, who upon spotting him would give him a salute.
"Duke Cayge! A pleasure to see you as always!"
"Ser Price" Orion replied cooly, a faint smile playing across his lips. "I haven't seen you in so long...when was the last we met?"
"I dare say it was during your cousins name day tournament if I recall!" The knight replied, dropping his salute.
"Ah, where I knocked you off your horse when we were jousting?"
"Indeed! Your lance struck most true milord, even had mine landed true the sheer force and power behind your grip is unmatched."
Was this some sort of euphemism?
"May all of our lances strike true at the hearts of enemies my friend. Have you been well since?"
"Indeed I have! And you?"
"I've been well enough, SouthEden is in a time of peace and I find myself busy more with paperwork and marriage arrangements than drills."
"Ah, but what warrior does not dream of peace Milord?"
"Only a fool Ser, I discount it not. If I were to live the rest of my life without having to take up arms for our Princess and her lands I will die a happy man Ser Price, but the minutia of it all bores me so."
"Heavy burdens for mighty men they say."
"So they say. Tell me Price, are you wed?"
"Not yet Milord, though Count Right is looking to find me a wife."
"I wish thee the best of luck then ser." Orion would pause, his eyes watching a man in the distance seemingly vanish. "And keep your drink covered and mind whom you take food from."
"Milord?"
"Trust me."
Orion would clap him on the shoulder and give him a warm smile, raising his drink in toast. "FOR THE PRINCESS, LONG MAY SHE REIGN!"
"FOR THE PRINCESS" the knight would exclaim clinking his glass in toast. "LONG MAY SHE REIGN!" After taking a sip of his drink, Duke Cayge would point Ser Price towards Sarah Lee "You ought to meet the scion of Whitehouse, I hear they are lovely at conversation ser, perhaps you might marry up in station eh?" Giving the knight a conspiratorial grin and nudge to the rib he would trot forward and find manish who seemed to be floundering with his words with a rather unenthused woman.
"Duke Phalloides," The giant would begin with a warm smile. "It does my heart glad to see you well and in good health!" He would tap his glass of brandy to the man's champagne flute and continue. "Do you recall that painting we were both so found of? The one with the stars? I heard from a reputable source that Earl Slamson of Breakcourt purchased it to add to his private collection before either of us could bid on it. Perhaps you can convince him to part ways with it? It would look lovely over your hearth."
Successfully engaged 12, Ser Price
hbj_RToa1-4
FAVOR: 1 | Influence: 6 | Time: 38
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Post by Furrlicity Purrfection on Jan 25, 2023 3:25:07 GMT 9
ibis stutters and flees without giving any proper answer. Useless crosses his mind with a small sneer. Did he really want to ally with someone who had such worthless help? That kind of weakness would never be tolerated in his court.
But, ah, no, he had to remember why he was here. His Lady was so weak right now. Any help was needed, loathe as he would be to admit it.
A servant passes with tinkling crystal cups. One is snatched before King Purrfection makes his way across the courtyard. Circling like a lion, eyes sharp, he sips as observes. The party is merry as the Nobles grow fat and drunk on the decadence offered by the Servants. The berries from his crown occasionally drop, littering the courtyard with black juices. Some of the Servants and Nobles track through it, unknowingly spreading the ichor. He had to suppress a smile at this. Watching the Cure spread like vines, slow to catch.
But he was not just here to watch. Even if these people were beneath him in every sense of the word, it would be wise to rub elbows.
His chosen target stands by the northern entrance. Arms crossed, she looks as if she were forced to be here. Furrlicity offers her a small nod and raises his glass to her. Her eyes flick up and down him, unimpressed, but then he sees the flash of panic as she recognizes who he is. Shoulder straightening, she puts on her best demure appearance. Long red hair being tossed over her shoulder.
"Apologies if I started you. I hope you do not mind my intrusion." The words slipped from him, slick and dark like oil.
"It is no problem, your Royal Highness. It is my honor to be graced with your attention."
Furrlicity nods again, turning to take a drink from another passing servant. One of the thick berries from him crown drops inside, oozing out sweet juice. He offers it to the other, who takes it with some (poorly hidden) trepidation.
"Mighten I ask the lady her name? A shame for you to be by your lonesome on such a night."
"Lady Pepper of House Mint, sir." She forces a little laugh. "I would ask of you the same, but I already know of you."
Furrlicity's face curls into a toothy grin. His blond tail lashes behind him once before stilling.
"I hope you've only heard good things, dear." He raises his own glass to hers. "How about a toast to the Princess?"
She meets his eyes and the fear isn't hidden. They both know what he's doing. They both know that she's lost.
She forces a smile but it doesn't reach her eyes. Only something like hate burns there.
"To the Princess."
Spoken like she's on the gallows.
They both drink. Furrlicity gives her another nods and turns to find his next victim.
8_DXLE3w1-4
ENGAGING with 5 (Lady Pepper of House Mint)
Favor: 0 | Influence: 5 | Time: 42 1-4 |
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Cleo
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Soldier, Poet, King
Player Character
Posts: 107
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Olivia Rivera
OOC Username: Izzy
Arena Points: 30
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Post by Cleo on Jan 25, 2023 8:04:24 GMT 9
#s://media~discordapp~net/attachments/656837544247558144/1066742461642321950/transparent~png Snap.
Cleo startles, looking up. Yes, the duchess – duke? – is looking at her. Perceiving her. She smiles politely at Yggy Br00ks and her company, dipping her head in acknowledgment of the order.
And then the company drops. Dead. Right in front of her eyes.
Snap.
Cleo looks down.
No.
She does not dare approach, does not dare check. Is his chest still moving? She can't see from here. That can't be right. Panic bubbles.
This is so much worse than the notification. This is… real. Real? Is it real? This is a game but it is real but it is a game but it is—
Don't question it. The delusion strokes her mind. Gentle. Soothing. A mother, calming her child.
Her breath catches in her throat, scream ringing in her ears. Not hers. Lady D'Mooka's. This is a game. Her reality cracks, the hedges ooze mist—
The claws settle around her mind like a crown. A warning. But of course it is. It is how the nobility have always played. Subterfuge and treachery. That is the game.
She holds her breath, watching. Seeing, but not quite perceiving. The mist twists, wavering like her spirit, solid one moment and gas the next. She sidesteps as the Duke runs past. This is a game. How did I forget? I—
Pinpricks of pain blind her, piercing into her mind. A bully, forcing its way. You. You are a pawn, a happy little pawn.
Lady D'Mooka turns, wiping away her tears. She reaches for a glass from Cleo's tray. Doesn't even think to ask her why she's here, how long she's been here. The Lady's tears have dried, grief flickering in the absence of people.
The Lady murmurs as she leaves, "And she didn't even think to be subtle about it." But then she turns the corner around the hedge with a stumble and a dramatic cry, "Oh, you would not believe what I have just laid witness to! My poor betrothed, Lord Inhood! And by Duke Yggy, no less—!"
Cleo stares at the body. Finally seeing. Finally perceiving. The game was trying to control them.
I have to fix this. A happy little pawn serves.
Waves, crashing into shore.
I have to— A happy little pawn OBEYS.
A current, pulling her under.
There is no clean up crew. Just mist, swirling around the body, breaking it back down into pixels and recycling its data.
I— A HAPPY LITTLE PAWN SUBMITS.
Roaring, screeching, an inescapable storm.
The Happy Little Pawn's legs tremble as she turns in her empty tray in favor of a fresh tray of drinks of all assortments… and one water.
Drip, drip. The Happy Little Pawn would play this game. It's almost easier, knowing the tru—notTheTRUTHNOTTHETRUTH.
Her tray lightens as she passes, an innocuous round of Russian Roulette. Guest 24 tries to stop her, some demand on his lips, but she cannot hear him over the tsunami in her head. She simply smiles and nods.
The noble guests are not quite mist, not like some of the servants outright are, but… there's an odd haze that them apart from the distinct outlines of the Players faces nearby. It makes it hard to read Guest 24's lips, hard to tell when he's done with her. She can only count in her head, hoping she has waited long enough to leave at an appropriate time.
Guest 24 takes a sip as she leaves.
There is no worried chatter or screaming to leave behind, no body to watch drop to the ground. Nothing to pierce through the cacophony... save a single notification.
<Target invalid.>
Though she usually detests the clutter in her vision, she leaves the notification in the corner of her vision. A buoy, for when the storm threatens to wipe her out.
She continues her route. There, to the noble trying to hide in the shadows. "Your water," she holds the tray out to Yggy Br00ks, whose face is so solid. So real. And though she cannot ask it, her eyes betray her question.
Are you okay?
2Y|yw3dg1d4 Cleo Lethally poisons Guest 24 (  ) Favor: 1 | Influence: 2 | Time: 43 |
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