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 Feb 3, 2023 22:13:30 GMT 9
#s://img~nickpic~host/Czh0Tx~png You don't need dreams. You're the one who is in control of your reality.
You are FREE.
THE FORCES OF BIRCHWILD ARE HERE TO CLAIM THE PRINCESS' THRONE! In this world of wicked hearts and wicked eyes, simple whispers can change everything when you know what to say and who to say it to. The shadow knight's tongue is wicked and dangerous. Quick steps lead her down to the catacombs, through stone paths, trees, roots, a cavernous system... There's a conversation ringing her mind, distant. A conversation when she had told Furrlicity Purrfection to explore the underground of the Birchwild. Wait... But, isn't Furrlicity her enemy? Had there once been a time when they were friends? While Tuesday follows after her Cryogonal, her head spins. <Guest 19 has died.>
...
<Servants +1 Influence>
"Oh Tuesday, where are you going?"
A familiar voice calls to her. It's not that of Ancile, and it's not that of M00K:Claw either. diva. Another servant. No... More than that... Someone she has met time and again. Friend or foe? Rival? Strange."There's a battle, Diva. I'm in search of a way to aid the princess' forces." To every good lie there's always a bit of truth, it's what makes them convincing. The shadow knight knows this, so the lie comes smooth — flowing gentle and cold like the mist of the timberlands. Before their discussion can continue, there's the mighty roar of a beast in the darkness. A wyvern. No... a dragon blinded and of scales that resemble rubies and sapphires. Diva is quick to engage, distracting the creature with a rock, but while Ancile's chains of frost wrap around this cantankerous enemy, Tuesday stares at it with eyes of sapphire and ruby. She sees opportunity. "Diva! The catacomb is directly under the forest battlefield. If we break the ceiling we can release this beast against the Birchwild's troops!"And against the troops of the Precipice too. But, what does that matter? Tuesday appreciates a double-edged sword, and most of those in the battlefield had meant harm to her princess anyway. She had heard their wicked whispers.<'My liege?'> The Cryogonal's chains struggle to keep the beast still, yet the mixture of Flabébé's sweet scent and Ancile's icy haze clearly having a conflicting effect on the beast. "Ancile, use your ANCIENT POWER to blast through the ceiling. Let the Salamence out of here."<'As you wish, my liege'>While holding onto the dragon, the Cryogonal is still quick to respond to its master's command, summoning mysterious and ancient power to strike the ceiling above. There's a huge explosion, stone and dust and roots and dirt falling all around. It's like in House of the Dragon... No... Deathly Hallows... No... what is she thinking? This is Tuesday's devious plan. Now, to find who she came here to find. VyXSpqsW1d4
FAVOR: 4 | INFLUENCE: 7 (1 EXTRA PERSONAL POINT) | TIME: 44 1d4 |
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Ruby
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Lionheart
Player Character
Posts: 178
Trainer Class: 
Player Name: Dr. Ruby Walker Ph.D.
OOC Username: Magnere
Arena Points: 70
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Post by Ruby on Feb 3, 2023 23:24:50 GMT 9
Chaos erupts, and it is no time at all before the beautiful banquet becomes a roaring battlefield, sword clashes echoing across the forest, ringing in her ears.
Before she knew it, an arrow had struck Lord Juniper even as he readied to fight himself. A kindly maid encourage them to safety at the edge of the fight, but Rubella's eyes were simply wide, trying to take it all in. "... Fine then. Leave me to perish by myself. It's not as if I wanted to live, or anything." She could have simply followed the maid to safety, but quite bluntly she was far too stubborn at the moment to listen to anyone else for reason at the moment.
This was not what she had come for. She had come for good food, perhaps a dance around a beautiful ballroom, maybe even a chance to get in favor with the new monarch. Her words couldn't persuade anyone now with subtlety, a fact that caused an intensely frustrated scowl on her face.
You don't love violence and conflict, do you?
And not to mention, she had still yet to find her butler. She was a sitting duck here, just waiting to be slaughtered, murdered for either supporting the princess, or a casualty of war.
The Princess is cruel and heartless.
The thought wasn't all that foreign, in fact, it was to be expected. Rubella didn't even have any issues with such personality traits right away. Royalty was often cruel and manipulative if they wanted to stay in the game, and yet-
Rubella found herself wavering. She wanted the favor of the princess, and yet, why did she care so much? Why was she caring about anyone else's opinions asides from her own? Could it be, she yearned to be accepted? To be wanted and desired by people who would believe she was more interesting than she truly was?
It's because you are lonely.
No. Banned. Banned thought. Even in her dreams, she refused to analyze herself in any great depth, it only circled around to confusion. It was one thing to discuss her fears with her therapist, but-
... Wait a second.
"It's a dream." Rubella would mumble to herself, her vision finally focusing for perhaps the first time in a while. The UI, the music, the prompts upon her vision, it all hit her like a metaphorical freight train.
Such a revelation should have shaken her to the very core of who she was, but she just smiled softly at the idea. Something about it just reassured her, pushed aside her fears, and explained all her questions. Some part of her knew the Princess had an affinity for dreams, the knowledge slowly filtering to the surface like bubbles waiting to burst.
And Rubella seemed to surprise herself with just how much she knew about the act of dreaming.
You typically have your strongest dreams during REM sleep.
Typically, you don't enter REM sleep until you have been asleep for 90 minutes.
Being aware you are dreaming in a dream, is called lucid dreaming.
All of these thoughts, knowledge, and ideas suddenly formed, spilling forth into her brain like a voice, as soft as a whisper. At first, she had thought such hushed words, teases at knowledge, were beneath her, but now? Knowledge was still power, regardless of its source, and she'd be a fool not to embrace it. Perhaps this voice was onto something.
Moments ago, the young duchess would have panicked from the sight of it all, feared picking up a blade that had been spilled on the ground, but now her grin was almost wickedly wide. If this was just a dream then she could quite genuinely do anything she put her mind to, including wielding a sword and running across a battlefield without fear.
Okay, maybe a little bit of healthy fear. She was still by herself, and her kimono wasn't really the best outfit to move in. It was time to change all that. Time to move towards a friendly face, Duke orioncayge .
Why was he a familiar, friendly face? He was of a foreign land, nobility she had heard of, but had yet to have any major diplomatic relations with.
He's a nice older sibling, protective of us. He'd keep us safe, I trust him.
The whisper this time confused the hell out of Rubella, but there was no time to debate with it. She'd worry about whatever the hell it meant by sibling later. She could easily see a makeshift crew forming, and that one voice wanted a part of it. And she was learning to just trust her gut.
"You!" She'd call out, a wide, almost wild-looking grin on her face as she pointed with her blade. Her sword pointed at the aforementioned Duke. "The whisper in my head demands I trust you, and it's growing increasingly useful, if not frustrating all the same. Call me a madwoman for my sudden lack of formalities, but I have my reasons. My knowledge is at your disposal."
Should she inform everyone it was just a dream? That perhaps they had all been drugged in the real banquet hall? Nah, there was no reason to make everyone stressed even further. People were already grieving for the wounded, but there was no still unfortunately time to wait about. No wonder with everyone connected in a single dream, things were unstable, like a sudden war plot in the middle of a banquet.
"Excuse me, you there." She'd turn to point the sword towards someone else, Earl Slamson.
Maybe don't point your weapon at people we want to be our allies. That's a bad look.
She regretfully lowers her weapon, mumbling quietly to herself in frustration. "Apologies, I am new to trying to make friends." Duchess Rubella would suddenly flip her sword around, attempting to hand it to them for now.
Once again, her wicked grin began to form, almost as if the very idea she was debating on had her almost inappropriately giddy. "Take the blade, slice the kimono at my legs. I need to be able to move and run, and this dress fails to support such actions."Duchess Rubella was silent for a moment before a mental nudge seemingly pushed her to speak again.
"Please?"
4VfrAduk1-4
ENGAGING #18
FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 4 | TIME: 47
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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 Feb 3, 2023 23:27:29 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1028264618818289684/1066678520488669285/yggifer2~png "Multitalented? Hey, that's awesome!" Yggy pumped her arms as she ran, her tie fluttering behind her shoulder. "I wish I could do a bunch of different stuff! But I'm really only good at baseball." Distantly, Yggy wondered if her curveball pitch had managed to impress the Princess. You had to be pretty strong to throw a cannonball like a baseball, much less get a good enough spin on it to have it bank at the last moment. She hadn't actually meant to hurt the blind lady, frustrated as she was that she was just sitting around letting a bunch of stuff happen. If it had been a classroom, the teacher would totally have stood up like "Quiet down! You, go to the Principal's Office! Now!" This Princess, well, she was more like a sub teacher. Someone who didn't really want to be there. So why was she?"Hey, what's your name?"Clang. The unified footfall of a troop of guards, garbed in the muted purple tones of the Precipice Kingdom. "Uhh..." Yggy skidded to a halt, dress shoes drawing charcoal lines through forest debris. There was an awkward pause as Yggy realized she had no weapons or armor to defend herself. "GET HER!" "Auuuughhhh!"She let out a panicked yell as the guards rushed her, seizing her one on each arm and hauling her into the air struggling. Raine fell to the ground as Yggy was carried back towards the battlefield, legs kicking. "Hey! Let go of me! I'm serious! I'm a, uh... Duke! I'm a Duke! I'll uh, give you money! I have a lot, probably!"Either her tone wasn't very convincing or her name had been so dishonored at the banquet already that the guards didn't care. They marched onwards. Craning her head around, Yggy realized with a chill their backs were hollow. Filled with mist. These guys aren't real, she realized, but that doesn't stop them from being able to affect me.The realization rocked Yggy to the core. It wasn't just about the Dream Palace. It was all of UNOVR. Sure, it was all in her head-- but that hadn't protected her when she'd been sent to the Recycle Bin. That hadn't opened the gate into the Everworld. Illusions weren't real, but that didn't mean they couldn't hurt you. Did... UNOVR hurt me?The thought made her feel sick. <GET AWAY FROM HER!> Ribbons of brilliant green light flayed the air as Raine was suddenly there, whiskers flared, shells clutched in her paws. The guards fell back before the fury of her barrage, shouting and drawing weapons with which to parry the otter's assault. The blonde felt their hands loosen and squirmed free, hitting the forest floor rolling. Damp leaves stuck to the back of her jacket. <Run, dumbass! I'll cover your retreat!> shouted Raine, fangs bared. Yggy only hesitated for a second, then fled. Pixels ran up and down her body in bands as she ducked and wove her way towards the pine tree where Cleo had vanished, trying to visualize home plate. A guard grabbed for her arm and she ducked under him, heart pounding. Just before she dove for the hidden entrance, she looked back. The Dewott was surrounded by guards. Still fighting. Water and streaks of swordlight danced through the air in arcs like a deadly fountain show. "I'll come back for you, Watson!" Yggy shouted, waving halfheartedly. <Go! And my name's not Watson!>She barreled through the entrance, landing in the Servant's quarters with a puff of errant pixels. FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 4 | TIME: 49
Y4Md47zS1d4
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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 Feb 3, 2023 23:43:51 GMT 9
#s://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/273948810382671884/1070035824986566726/Screenshot_2023-01-31_123946.png No one in this game had any sense of subtly she had learned. Especially not when they were under the haze of a fake princess. So of course her plan to keep the Salamence asleep was ruined. Why wouldn't it be? It's claws lashed out at her as she tried to skirt around it once Tuesday decided that she absolutely had to try and stop Furrlicity Purrfection from having a good time upstairs. When it came to the other player or the ice princess... She was going to chose the other player any day of the week. Regardless of the delusions that were going on upstairs. All for the sake of a Princess that wasn't even real. But at this point Diva herself didn't even care about the rewards at the end of the day. All she wanted was to start problems on purpose. After all, she hadn't even gotten to murder someone earlier. Which was a shame.
"You'll kill the Princess that way Tuesday. After all, dragons eat princesses... Don't they?"
She was going to antagonize Tuesday just a little bit while she tried to figure out a plan to get around this entire mess. All she wanted was a reward for going through another event. And what she got was the realization that she hated her avatar and maybe, just maybe, she needed some therapy. But that was fine. Hydance had healthcare. She would just ask Big Bee for the paperwork when she was done with this event. Probably. Her steps were slow, and deliberate. And with a fake gasp she put her hands to her lips.
"Are you betraying the Princess Tuesday? Are you trying to get her caught up in the ruckus of all of this? Do you want to be the Princess now?"
It was dangerous to poke a bear, but fun to poke a cat girl.
"She's never going to look at you Tuesday. She's not even real."
And with that she held Opal up towards the ceiling, the Pokemon's hands clasped tight as it used it's wish attack to put the ceiling back in place. After all, that was healing the castle... Right? So it probably counted. Hydance loved creativity in this house. As badly as she wanted the Salamence out of the way she didn't personally feel like being crushed to death by ceiling rocks. Nobody was thinking in this basement.
"You can't betray something that doesn't even know you exist. It's like an ant taking from a picnic. We don't see that as betrayal. We simply see it as a nuisance. And that's all the Princess sees us as. So if you want to let her die. Then we should kill her ourselves."
There was still time to rile Tuesday up, there was still time to mess with her. To try and slap her out of all of this. But Diva had a feeling she was too far gone for this event. So of course making an enemy of her was the next best thing. To distract her while Furrlicity Purrfection did whatever the hell he was doing upstairs.
> going to battle with the salamence in the catacombs
> fight for your life x4
> super effective with opal x2
FAVOR: +1 | INFLUENCE: 6 | TIME: 50
eGB1qvVG1d4
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Tuesday
•
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 Feb 4, 2023 0:17:32 GMT 9
#s://img~nickpic~host/Czh0Tx~png You don't need dreams. You're the one who is in control of your reality.
You are FREE. When she looks at diva, blonde eyebrows raise into arches. Is Diva insane? Obviously, right? There's no other way to put. Diva has absolutely lost her mind. Tuesday? Hurt the princess? Betray her? RIDICULOUS. And yet... "After all, dragons eat princesses... Don't they?" She does have a point, doesn't she.... Hadn't Tuesday said something similar recently? When out steel dragon hunting with Duchess Sarah Lee of Whitehouse? "Maybe it's the circlet." Tuesday jokes, tapping on the circlet she wears with one index finger. "Don't dragons love kidnapping princesses? If we're going by fairy-tale rules, that is." Tuesday tuts, reproaching. She reaches into the pocket of her apron, taking hold of the MOLTRES EGG SHARD. Diva wont be able to stop her. No one will be able to stop her. Not even all of these ceaseless warnings about <Immortal Object>. "Diva, Diva, Diva..."Ancile fires at the ceiling again. <Immortal Object>
The Salamence roars, beating ruby wings and banging its tail against and cobblestone and soil. <Immortal Object>
Tuesday smirks, stepping closer to the wicked Charmer. <Immortal Object>
Is diva an immortal object too? Tuesday is curious, but mostly, she's determined, and determination will push you where mere wishes never will. Determination will lead you to ignore boundaries. Determination makes it so that she doesn't hesitate, looking into Diva's eyes when jabbing the cutting shard into the Charmer's abdomen. "You can't stop me, Diva. No one can." When she pulls the shard out, its opalescence is coated in sparkling glitter and crimson. Crimson like the Salamence's wings. Crimson like the right eye of this pretend maid. She puts it away as if nothing had just happened, and in it's place, she brings out her SILVER PIECE. "Change of plans, Ancile!" Tuesday ignores Diva, approaching the dragon with steps that are quick yet cautious. "Take this and hold it in front of the Salamence. It's obviously blind, so it needs to smell the treasure. Between that and the circlet, we'll lure it up to the battlefield."It's the perfect plan.
<'Yes, my liege.'>An ice chain wraps around the silver piece, holding it before the greedy blind dragon. Together, ice shield and ice maid lure the Salamence, knowing it would never resist the scent of <THE PRINCESS' CIRCLET> that is wore by Tuesday. With the grace of her subclass, Tuesday glides over the ground, skating her way back towards the battlefield and leaving Diva behind. The Salamence follows, enraged. Tuesday moves quickly, out speeding it at every turn. Diva is left alone with her Flabébé. But, what of Tuesday's plans to find M00K:Claw? They can wait... for now. vKqc4yRR1d4
FAVOR: 4 | INFLUENCE: 7 (1 EXTRA PERSONAL POINT) | TIME: 52 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 Feb 4, 2023 0:30:52 GMT 9
#s://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/273948810382671884/1070035824986566726/Screenshot_2023-01-31_123946.png It wasn't the first time she had been stabbed. But that was a story for the therapy that she was absolutely going to go and get.
The feeling was the same though. But instead of just plain red blood it was liquid crimson glitter that flowed out of her. A nervous laugh bubbled up to the surface. You had to love event exclusive items. She should have picked up the egg shard when they'd done that event together. But instead she had gotten those little kegglings. The little creatures that were supposed to be helpful. Regardless. Things were finally going her way.
"Long live Princess Tuesday!"
Was all she said when they were leaving and she was pressing to her stomach. Taunting the cat girl once more. She was wearing a princess circlet after all. At least this wasn't fatal. After all. This was just a game. She'd have to avoid telling Peace Maker that she'd gotten stabbed by someone though. It would ruin how he felt about the game. She could live through this silly stab wound. After all, the dragon was going, going, gone now. And she could just waltz back to grab whatever it was that the creature was guarding. She loved when other people did the hard work for her.
Taking a deep breath she focused herself on getting centered while Opal prayed over the wound on her abdomen. The wish sealing the wound quite nicely as the blood began to dry on her outfit. It probably would have been funnier to run up the stairs while bleeding and have Tuesday blamed for all of the murders. But she just wanted that treasure now. It was going to be hers.
> going to battle with the salamence in the catacombs
> fight for your life x4
> super effective with opal x2
FAVOR: +1 | INFLUENCE: 6 | TIME: 56
ZGl3RiNp1d4
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Ruby
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Lionheart
Player Character
Posts: 178
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Dr. Ruby Walker Ph.D.
OOC Username: Magnere
Arena Points: 70
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Post by Ruby on Feb 4, 2023 0:48:31 GMT 9
Earl Slamson was clearly hesitant. Not because destroying the kimono was any kind of taboo, although it probably was, but because there was suddenly a young teenage girl ordering him around. "... You're awfully young to be running into a battlefield, aren't you-"
"Yeah, yeah, shut up." Duchess Rubella spoke. The pretense of a polite, calm little girl faded away when knowledge it was all a dream became fact for her. "I can handle myself. Just help me out, before I do it myself. I'd rather not slice up my own legs myself, nor would I prefer to run around next to naked."
Slamson sighed, taking the blade from their grip and suddenly turning around as if to block her body from danger as he got to work. The blade pierces through the fabric with ease, but he has to work it back and forth to try and slice through it.
"C'mon, it's not that hard. It's just silk. Dream silk, I guess, so I guess nothing makes any sense anymore, but-"
The ground suddenly shakes and her foot suddenly catches on her kimono getting tugged downwards and slipping. Rubella screams out in surprise as she suddenly tumbled forwards, the blade still right up against her legs.
She falls right into him, cold steel pressing against skin causing her to hiss in pain. The blade is immediately dropped to the ground by Slamson, who catches her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Duchess, that was not- I didn't try to- Show me the wound, let me assist." Already he was so cautious of the dead, to cause someone an injury was horrendous.
And yet, Rubella in her arms just looked up at him with a soft smile.
Oh, Dear, you're as kind and thoughtful as always.
The dream took him too.
I wonder if his dream name means he likes basketball...
Recognition dawned in her eyes, and she just reached up to gently pat the man's face. "My Dear, you'll just simply have to carry me then, won't you?"
Slamson's own eyes seemed to flicker with recognition, and a soft smile of their own suddenly formed. "Oh, my lady, if I had known it was you, I would have stayed by your side from the beginning. My apologies, I-"
"Shhh," She shook her head, slowly gripping onto their shoulders and climbing atop their back. Their leg might be injured, but it was just a dream, they've felt worse pain before. "My loyal butler, you've gotten into quite the mess, haven't you? You really should introduce me to your friends later. I look forwards to seeing this kingdom you have inherited, supposedly."
Slamson, now Dear, was perplexed by this situation. This was Ruby, right? It looked like Ruby, why were they not acting like Ruby? The same reason he was not acting like himself, he supposed.
"As you command, my lady."
All of a sudden, a noblewoman's eyes suddenly locked onto his own, a spear in their hands. Lady Bandella was staring them down, a nervous, yet excited look upon their face. It seemed combat suited them so much more than ballroom politics. "Hah! Plotting against the crown! Have at thee!" She'd charge forwards, weapons stretched out as Slamson/Dear suddenly brandished his own.
Say the words, Disarming Voice...
Well, no time to argue with the disembodied voice in her head. It was now or never, the voice hadn't failed her yet. "Disarming Voice!" She shouted at Lady Bandella, only for Dear/Slamson to be the one to recognize the command.
"My lady," He suddenly spoke, his voice suddenly impossibly charming, yet booming with authority that had their weapon all but fly out of their hands. "We are with Duke Cayge, are you two not friends? Dare to say, he was awfully fond of you."
"I-" She falters, looking over towards the man, and just shrugs and then points her weapon outwards instead to protect from outside threats. Her unsure expression suddenly twists into a wide smirk of her own. "You know, I wasn't sure what was going on over here, but much rather the usurpers I know, than the ones I don't." It's a poor joke, but it has her laughing anyways. "If he's deemed it time, then my family is no stranger to bloodshed. This coalition of yours has my blade."
"... But he owes me a joust."
R_P6L_zY1-4
ENGAGING #7
Lady Bandella of House Danna has joined the Whitecayge Coalition
FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 4 | TIME: 57
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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 Feb 4, 2023 1:34:25 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/835125283592994878/1066892036604690532/E-h9_E0WQAowJsm~jpg "I've seen the way you hold that blade. Consider me next in line for that bout," Sarah said. There was little time for curtseying or swapping business cards in the middle of a venomous battle, but the telltale burst of light told her that their numbers were growing with each body added to the press.
Duchess Rubella and Lady Bandella of House Danna have joined The WhiteCayge Coalition!
"Once this is all over we'll establish a dueling hall in Briarbane. Or Birchwild, even. Somewhere warmer and with less poison," Sarah promised, setting the obligatory death flag as they headed into the final act.
The ground shuddered beneath them, as if a giant was trying to punch their way up onto the battlefield. Sarah staggered, and she grabbed on to someone's shoulder for support as the whole forest floor buckled beneath them.
The words <Immortal Object> popped up like serif daisies across the battle field.
"Groudon come to save the day again?"
The rumbling quietened and the warnings blinked away, just as a familiar catgirl bursts through an overgrown servants entrance, a raging Salamance barely a jaw's length behind her! Though nearly blind, it could smell the intoxicating mix of silver and glittering blood that Tuesday was trailing.
But there is one thing that dragons covet more than treasure.
The Salance stopped. Its nose twitched in the air, and its ancient claws dug deep into the ground. It prowled towards THE PRINCESS, like a shark drawn to blood.
A massive <YOU WON'T.> prompt appeared in the air, but it pressed onwards, scaled belly rattling as it crawled across an elongated silver tray.
It could sense her presence.
<YOU WON'T.>
It could hear the battle theme pounding in the air.
<YOU WON'T.>
And most importantly: It couldn't read a damn thing.
eKPjDTVJ1d4{Spoiler}{Guest List}
1: Lady Ann d'Mooka
6: Lady Richtung, Marchioness of Schneeland - BRAIXEN
7: Lady Bandella of House Danna- ENGAGE
11: Crawmon Copperriddle
12: Ser Price
18: Earl Slamson of Breakcourt
19: Count Cleft of Willowbank
20: Viscount Twain of Willowbank
21: Viscount Buckle of Willowbank - Cryogonal
22: Count Hedgemon of Greentuft 1d4 |
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M00K
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Retired
Posts: 58
OOC Username: M00K
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Post by M00K on Feb 7, 2023 1:34:17 GMT 9
{EXPLORATION RESULTS} CATACOMBS
Into the tunnels you go, following the sulfur-stench of dirty dragon. The walls are slotted with a honeycomb of crypts; generations of priests, royals, and servants like yourselves. A blanket of bone-dust covers all. In a room all on its own stands the King's Tomb, a white marble casket slightly raised off the cold stone ground. Frost glitters thickly on the plaque, which reads– unaltered— KING ARTICUNO. The lid sits a few feet away from the casket. M00K:Claw sits abreast of the coffin, smoking. “You know,” she says, dulcet, seemingly to no one, “The thing about regicide is no one wants to take responsibility.” She draws on her cigarette, shapely legs dangling over the side of the coffin. “Murder gets a bad rep, but it’s straightforward. It takes substance. Commitment.”CLAW stands up, moving aside to let you see inside. The lining of the casket is filled with brilliant blue feathers. The King’s body is within, pale, dusted with powder snow. His eyes are closed– but his chest still flutters with slow, steady, unmistakable breath. “Doing things the honest way doesn’t seem much like our little Princess, does it?” CLAW says softly, painted fingernails drumming on the marble. “I’d wager we’ve stumbled onto a little secret.”The King’s chest rises and falls. CLAW holds up a little bottle of poison, identical to the one she slipped you earlier this evening. “People don’t keep people alive for no reason.” She winks and moves aside, content to let you do your work.
> POISON THE KING (0/2)> WAKE THE KING (Try)[tangent= You have a choice to make, Servants. Two players may "vote" to poison and permanently kill the King. Alternatively, you may attempt to wake him up via a method of your choosing. The method I like the best will succeed. ]Information[/tangent]
ROYAL BEDROOMS
The wing of the palace is dark. The torches in their braziers are unlit, as if no one expected to have to see. The hidden Servants’ entrance opens out into a particular bedroom. Bookshelves line the walls. On the desk, an open book is practically begging to be filled with helpful diary entries, but sadly, it is blank. An ink quill stands next to it. A groan from behind you alerts you someone else is in the room, and as you turn around, you see him. A red-haired man is here, chained and manacled to the wall beside his bed. At first glance he bears a remarkable resemblance to an older Finnegan Fjord, though his eyes are a hungry yellow instead. A family portrait on the wall shows him standing next to the late King, arms proudly linked. He rasps something unintelligible, fingers flexing weakly. The steel spikes which pin his body seem like a needlessly cruel addition to the chains. They gleam in the firelight as a spark of blue static seems to travel through one, disappearing into the man’s body. His yellow eyes watch you, flickering like old streetlamps, but he does not try to speak. He may be dangerous. He may be your salvation. He may owe you a favor. He may crush you where you stand.
< FREE THE PRINCE? (0/3) >[tangent= You have a choice to make. You may free the trapped Prince, risking the consequences, or you may free him in the hope that he owes you a favor. You may creatively RP how you do this as well as freely coming up with any information in the books, items in the room, etc. ]Information[/tangent]
 THE PRECIPICE CROWN
The Princess rises to her feet, expressionless. Throughout everything she has been unmoved, unchanged, and unyielding. The scene at the former-Banquet Hall was a show meant to entertain her, and while the direction it took has been surprising, she is now ready to change the channel. The arrival of the Salamence is the last straw.
Slender wings slide from her shoulders like switchblades, casting a sickle-shaped shadow across the ground. A butcherbird. A shrike.
How tedious.
She beats her wings and a biting wind buffets the battlefield.
White, cottony seeds stream from her open eyes, sprouting around the woodland. From each seed blooms a NEW DREAM. Pockets of different scenes and realities rise like landmines, bubbling and expanding.
Salamence blunders into one, roars, rips through, charges on. Its senses are overwhelmed by Princess. It obeyed only the old King, and the new one doesn’t share his sway. It ignores her wishes. It ignores her will.
How familiar.
The Princess's face twists slightly for the first time, and she casts a scornful glance towards Tuesday. It sweeps across the so-called WhiteCayge Coalition, lingering on Valentine and Lady Wynne where they stand together as equals, and her expression darkens.
What are you thinking?
The dragon’s serpentine head reaches the royal table. Flame and fangs are undeterred by text, and it reaches blindly for the Princess.
Do you think you've won?
The pressure in your head increases suddenly, like talons tightening their grip. Then they begin to puncture. Sharp pains echo through your skull as the mist returns, fogging the room, fogging your mind.
Everything around you is changing, warped by the whims of your enemies. Everything inside you is changing, too. Whispers indistinguishable from wishes. That tiny voice in the back of your mind has been throttled, replaced with another.
A UI warning appears in the corner of your screen as you submerge, deeper and deeper. Your subconscious bottoms from REM to near-coma levels as the pressure intensifies, the weight of your Delusion bearing you down like cement.
<The WorldScreen has detected unusual brain activity.
Are you still there?>
< YES | NO > You will lose yourself.<Troubleshooting now.>
<For your safety, the WorldScreen will power down automatically in (5) Minutes>You will lose everything.Screens begin to flash. <Attempting data retrieval. 3... 2... 1...>You are back where you started, next to the Precipice Shrine. The endless pit yawns, reminding you of absence. Absence of self. Absence of memory. Absence of… something. What were you forgetting?
Something about a dragon…
In the back of your mind, something is ringing. No— roaring. You can smell the BIRCHWILD, in smoke and sweetness. The crash and clatter of swords like breaking ice. The taste of bitter berries on your tongue. Hot sauce on your fingers.
Sleepy…Lady Bandella sinks to her knees, leaves budding around her collar. Nearby, head in her hands, the red-haired Lady Pepper suddenly sprouts clear, segmented wings. Crawmon Copperriddle drops his blade and holds up shaking fists as Snark Dark’ness pulls off their horned helmet in a shower of water droplets, revealing a woman’s face. Black venom drips from Viscount Ri’val’s guitar, splattering on the frozen forest floor.
Ser Price's armor comes alive with shadows. Count Robin and Ser Jasper are too deeply committed to the Princess’s cause to resist the call of sleep. Robin falls like a stone, while Jasper curls up normally. Viscount Twain is perhaps even less fortunate– his body grows misty and transparent, as if he was never quite there to begin with.
Were any of them there to begin with?
Something is wrong.
Perhaps you have the power to right it. INSTRUCTIONSYou have five minutes IC to break the delusion before the WorldScreen shuts down.
300 seconds. We will set the next goal at 30 or in 3 days.
Paste this code at the bottom of your post and add the result to TIME (starting at 0).
It is no longer 1d4! Choose between 1-3.
[center][h2][b]1, 2, or 3[/b][/h2][/center]
USER INTERFACENEXT CYCLE AT TIME:30 OR IN THREE DAYS
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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 Feb 7, 2023 2:50:44 GMT 9
There was a moment of panic, a moment of awareness of the noose around his neck tightening, dragging him under, pulling Manish along the story. Then, all of it was gone. All his worries, the nerves of saying the wrong thing, silly fake memories of things that definitely didn’t happen, the cloudy lightheadedness gave a quiet sheen over everything around him. For the first time in his life, Manish’s head was silent. It was easy then, to play the part. He laughed at the right moments, winked at the appropriate women, and was the charming young man he was created to be. No thoughts, he didn’t need thoughts anymore. Manish floated through the lightheaded dream, oblivious to everything around him. Until. “Manish, you gotta come back!”Hmm? No, he wasn’t Manish anymore. He was Duke Manish Jolitt of Amanita Phalloides. Why was this young lady trying to talk to him? “What…” he started, before looking down and seeing the eyes of his…his pokemon. Of Cereal. What was he saying? Why was this cat pulling so desperately on his shirt? <Brzzzzzzzzzzzzt!> “Snap out of…what…” the droning from Cereal was starting to compete with the fog in his mind. Then. Like a man cut down from the rope, Manish took a staggering breath and awareness slammed back into him. Flashes, not delusions, memories! He could remember! "I'm YGGY! It's short for Yggifer...If you want to keep hanging out, we can like, explore together” That was, that was Yggy Br00ks! His first friend! Yggy needed his help and he was never going to let her down, he owed it to her. “Yggy! Hold on, I’m…we’re coming!” He hugged Cereal tight to his chest and chased after his friend. The memories kept flooding in. How could he forget? How could he forget Ryan and Lucy and Cereal? Cereal! The cat in question gave another loud <brzzzt> and more came back to him. Losing chess, napping in the sun, breaking up squabbles between everyone. And. There was something else. Someone else. Why did he pick the name Duke Manish Jolitt of Amanita Phalloides? Why death caps? Those weren’t even that nice of mushrooms, what with the poison and all. They weren’t even that pretty, not like Amanita muscaria; those were pretty. It’s why he suggested the name to… “Amanita!” Manish yelled, almost tripping over his feet as he rounded another corner after Yggy. Oh no, how could he forget about Amanita? And he just spent all that time trying to find a wife when…when what? What did amanita have to do with that? He didn't know why, but he felt like he really needed to apologize to Amanita, beg for his forgiveness for trying to find a suitable match. Would he forgive him? Why did he feel guilty? Maybe he could ask Yggy if she had any idea why he was so stuck on that. Speaking of Yggy, Manish almost completely bowled her over as she stopped in a bedroom. “Yggy, what’s going on, what’s happening?” Then Manish took in the room. From his perspective, it was a pretty standard nice room, but all the details faded around him as he zeroed in on the man chained to a wall. “What the fuck?” <Bzzt.>“Nuh-uh, I didn’t swear! I mean, but if I did, it’s totally warranted, oh jeez, oh heck, are you okay?” Manish ran over to man and anxiously paced in front of him. “Sorry, that was a dumb question, I mean, how could you be? Sorry, you know that. Sorry. Oh jeez, this is bad.” Manish turned back to Yggy and Cleo. “We gotta help him! This is, this is wrong! Help me, please!” Manish didn't wait for their response before jumping into action. He gave Cereal a hug before lifting the cat up higher. “Can you do it, Cereal? Can you get those…those things out of him?” <Brrrzzzzzzt.> “Please, please try and be careful! I’m sorry, um, sir? Sorry, I don’t know your name. Once we get you outta here, you’ll have to uh, we’ll do proper introductions? Um. Okay, Cereal, you see if you can pull those out and I’ll…uh, stop any bleeding? Oh jeez, I really hope there’s not a lot of blood. I don’t think I’ll handle that well, oh no, oh man, I’m already not handling this well. Those are in your skin! Sorry, you know that. Don’t worry, we’ll get you out.” Manish released his hold on Cereal as the cat’s droning grew louder and he started to let off a light glow. Before long he floated out of Manish’s arms and stared at one of the spikes. “This is going to suck, sorry.” Manish said one final time before nodding to Cereal. As gently as he could, Manish braced the stranger’s chest and Cereal started to use Psychic to pull the spikes from his body. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…” Manish muttered as he stared in horror. 1
FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 4 |
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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 Feb 7, 2023 4:12:14 GMT 9
#s://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/273948810382671884/1070035824986566726/Screenshot_2023-01-31_123946.png Royalty had been getting on her nerves as of late. Dealing with this and that and the other. And now she had been stabbed. And what did she have to show for it? Not a reward. But a man who was essentially in an ice chest. Perfect. Just great. It was exactly what she needed. Another noble. Another king. A corpse? At least that was what she thought until C.L.A.W. spoke up. Wasn't it ironic that the person Tuesday had been chasing was down here all along. Diva wasn't going to question how she'd gotten past the Salamence. She knew better than that. Not because she was a servant but because sometimes things in this game just did not add up properly. There was rumbling and shouting upstairs, dust falling from the ceiling. But she didn't care about any of that.
"I did very poorly with the poison before. I kept hitting misses. Unfortunate. I kind of wanted to kill someone." But now she had another goal. Perhaps the real issue here was that Princess up there was simply an imposter herself. And that there was nothing to be done about it except to wake up daddy. "It seems like the dear Princess couldn't pull it off either. Not that I'm surprised." She could have easily just killed the king. Forced the other two to give him poison as well and she was sure that it would cause that heart of his to stop beating. Too bad she had a soft spot for helpless men who couldn't do anything for themselves. The protective urge she had whelmed up inside of her.
It was time to wake this king up. If she could that was. She knew that back and back there had been an event to try and wake up the Princess... The same Princess she was certain was causing trouble now. If only she had stayed asleep. Perhaps she had been put to sleep for a reason and once she had been awoken by the players... Put her poor father on ice. It made sense. Now they would have a chance to set it right. Or at least a little more right than it was. And if the other two players had anything to say about it, well... she would just have to have them fuck around and find out. "Opal, if you would please." The Pokemon shimmered, creating a safeguard around the king. Just to stop as much outer influence as they could from incoming.
She didn't trust anyone else not to screw this up for her.
Gently she wiped some of the frost from his eyes, the cold seeping into her hands as she did. Of course it was cold. Of course he was cold. He was an ice king surrounded by feathers of his own flocking. Was it to keep him in a deep slumber? She knew that there were studies about cryogenics. About keeping people on ice in order to keep them living longer. And she wondered exactly what it was that the princess was keeping him asleep for... There had to be a reason she needed him alive and not just simply dead. Perhaps she wasn't as strong as she wanted people to believe.
She'd woken Peace Maker before. How different could it really be?
There were no blankets to pull back off of the king but that wasn't really an issue. "Come on your Highness... The Salamence is off to battle against the Princess. She's done a number on your kingdom. If you don't wake in time she'll destroy the whole thing." Carefully she brushed away more of the frost and snow, her fingertips turning red from the bitter cold. But it was necessary. Sure he was King Articuno but a little bit of warmth would wake him up, clear the frost from his eyes and from his bones. It was hard to move when cold settled into your bones.
The desire to borrow one of the rings that were on his fingers was high, but she would resist. Especially since a king would notice something of his was missing. Still she gently massaged one of his hands. Cold. Cold. Cold. "The King of the Birchwood has arrived as well your Highness. Here to claim your throne for his own. Feeding those poison berries to your subjects to turn them to him." She would tell all of the secrets that she had gathered to help and wake him up. There had to be something to help here. She wished she had coffee... Or some sort of warm tea like she did when she had to wake Peace Maker up.
Or the alarm clock sound. That would probably work as well.
Feeling her fingers turning frigid to the point of immobility she wondered if she was even doing this the right way. She had no idea what sort of things a king would need to wake up really. And her gut feelings were nothing but that. Gut feelings. Looking around the catacombs she tried to find something that would help warm him. Or wake him. She could always go with her tried and true in this event. A wish. A wish for the king to be restored to his former glory. A wish to stop the princess from running rampant. It had worked on fixing the wound that Tuesday had inflicted on her. So it could probably work now to fix the King. After all, if he was poisonable that meant he wasn't immune to damage, or restoration.
There was no tooltip stopping them from interacting with each other. Not only had the Princess not killed him but... She hadn't left him very protected either. In fact the only thing stopping them from getting here was the Salamence... It was stranger and stranger now. Perhaps the Princess really didn't believe that anyone would oppose her. Diva knew that she almost hadn't. And felt conflicted about it. But again that was something for the therapy later.
> wishes to wake the king up
FAVOR: +1 | INFLUENCE: 6 | TIME: 02
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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 Feb 8, 2023 9:00:51 GMT 9
#s://media~discordapp~net/attachments/656837544247558144/1070100955753881720/nurse_cleo~png As they cross the threshold into the royal bedrooms, Cleo keeps an eye on the shadows of the hallways. Whatever was going on in the main hall had kept the misty guards and their Princess occupied. Nobody had followed them through the glitched entryway. But that could always change.
Alas, her guard duty is quickly disrupted by manish's totally-not-swearing and… Her nose wrinkles. The room smells like old rust, coppery and almost putrid.
"Right, right. Helping! Of course!"
She grimaces and hurries over, feeling her newly acquired nurse's outfit for supplies. There, in a deceptively small medkit pack. Gauze. She begins unwinding them for binding.
And then near tears it in half when the first of the four massive, steel spikes—one in each extremity, pinning him into a starfish position—is pulled free of its home. The prince's hoarse, horrified scream is easily muffled by the large jolt of electricity. The spike sparks almost angrily in its psychic confines, desperate to burrow back in and do… whatever it's doing to the prince. Subduing him, maybe?
"Toss them aside—away from us. A-And, not together. Maybe into the different corners of the room. We shouldn't… I don't want to find out what happens if they, when they touch." She gives the Espurr a sidelong glance, hesitating. "Please."
As soon as there's no danger of accidentally brushing that literal shocking experience, Cleo's pressing gauze to the open wound. Blood immediately soaks through the first layer, and the next. She tries not to flinch at the slick feeling on her fingers, just folding the gauze over and over until it's dry, and subtly trying to wipe off the blood between layers.
Her gaze stays trained on it for only a second longer before it becomes too much and she's averting her gaze, up and away, to the painting on the wall across the bed just staring at them all.
It's the old, bearded king and this man, and the statue of that lady with the sword. All together. Just… just the three of them. Huh. Their body postures are all proud and regal, shoulders back and chins high, but a closeness to them that reads fondness and joy. Perhaps even their expressions would be joyful. Hard to tell – the canvas has been torn at their faces, as if to tear their happiness away.
Her attention is dragged back to the prince, who continues to rasp and groan, his voice failing to form any meaningful, coherent words.
"Yes, right, the manacles." That's absolutely not what he's trying to mouth, but it's the next piece of the puzzle Cleo clues in on. If they're going to free him…
She looks to Yggy Br00ks. "Your Dewott. Can he? She? They. Can they, um," she furrows her brows to look around for the Dewott Noble, "can you cut through these chains here," she gestures to where manacle meets chain, "with some high pressure water, maybe?"
Lord Juniper, her Mudkip in disguise, crosses his arms, almost offended she hadn't asked him.
Of course she hadn't – she already knows his water jets aren't near strong enough for such a task. Not yet. She'd brought him into such a dangerous place, so woefully unprepared.
"Just, y'know, don't accidentally hit him."
The prince groans. Probably in agreement with her advice. 3
FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 5 | TIME: 05 |
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Post by Furrlicity Purrfection on Feb 8, 2023 10:17:49 GMT 9
The King rises to his feet, expressionless. Throughout everything he has been unmoved, calm, and unyielding. The scene at the former-Banquet Hall was a show meant to entertain him, and while the direction it took has been expected, he is now ready for the next act. The arrival of the Salamence is the last straw.
Corrupted ash rises like smoke in the air, streams from mouth and eyes, just as wings spread.
The Harlot digs further into Furrlicity's mind. Yet it forgot, didn't it? It forgot that it was not the first to dwell there. And now, deep enough, what was there before lashes out. A bear-trap sprung, the Corruption inside of him snaps closed around the invader. Tug as it might, it will not be able to escape. Instead, it pulls this new invader deeper and deeper, intending to Purify.
The worldscreen flashes. Data retrieval starts.
Furrlicity screams.
Hunched over, holding his head, the catman shrieks and yowls. Black tears ooze down his face and brackish spittle flies from his mouth at the force of it. It drowns out the Harlot as she speaks but it could not draw out the cracking in his head.
Shifting, twisting, slithering.
Act now or this will only get worse.
The Seeds he had passed out earlier bloom just as he does. Furrlicity's eyes roll back in his head as he jerks backwards, spine a near perfect parabola dipping towards the ground. Crackling and twisting start up; it Furrlicity had the wherewithal to notice it, he would have seen the odd countdown Status effect shatter and his UI warp.
Birchwild branches, filled with orange leaves, sprout from those Seeded.
A last, weak, gurgle leaves his raw throat. Like a puppet with his strings cut Furrlicity falls to the ground. Black blood drips from his head, speckled with bright orange glitter. The Crown has bloomed, roots sinking into his hair to dig and root into the skull below.
Yet Furrlicity is not unconscious.
Heaving from his place on the ground, he stares up at the Princess with barely contained seething. The pit of the Precipice is at his side. Furrlicity bares his teeth, sharp. It almost looks like a smile.
A shaking finger trails over his UI, sloppy movements hard to follow.
Pa-ping ping ping ping ping.... pa-ping ping ping ping ping....
"Hi, Ash," Furrlicity grins at the screen of the Video Call he'd just started. Even if Ash didn't pick up, she'd still at least get the basic message eventually! His terrible state was clear to see. "Shit going down-" He hacked up a black and putrid hairball, turning his head to spit it into the pit- "at the Precipice Shrine. Maybe...." Another cough. "Maybe send someone?"
Tired, he did his best to turn the 'screen' around, allowing glimpses of the Princess, of the other players, pokemon, and NPCs scattered around the area. Then the video would cut off, Furrlicity groaning as he tried to push to his feet.
"Gimme.... gimme back my fucking pokemon, you flying cuntsack!"
3
FAVOR: 0 | INFLUENCE: 7 | TIME: 08 |
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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 Feb 8, 2023 11:31:58 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/835125283592994878/1066892036604690532/E-h9_E0WQAowJsm~jpg The palace was enshrouded in layers of dream, frost, mist, darkness, and cotton seeds that blew and bloomed like bad dreams caught on an ill wind.
The coalition was scattered, ejected from the core of the palace and discarded on the frozen ground around the Precipice Shrine like a handful of unwanted toys.
"Well now I just feel slighted," Sarah said, offering a hand to Lady Bandella and pulling her up off the snow. Greenery sprouted from her cuffs and collar, and frost quickly formed on the leaves, browning them with winter's bite. "Focus, keep her warm."
The armorer Braixen wrapped her arms around the green noble, holding off the chill of being dumped in the snow.
Around them the rest of the coalition were slowly coming to their feet. orioncayge and Ruby were there, along with their retainers, and the few nobles they'd managed to salvage from the poisonous feast. Frozen sprigs of lavender cracked under their feet as they formed a loose huddle, like a football team down at half time. "Duke Orion, Duchess Rubella, we need a plan and we need it fast."
Sarah clenched her fists. The air burned around her, filling with steam and the smell of burnt lavender. "We haven't failed!" Sarah said, shoving away the words of the princess. They were contradictions as well as lies. As long as the princess kept talking she was still there. As long as she kept trying to convince them to give up there was still hope.
"We have power!" Sarah called into the night. "We can melt your walls and we can tear down whatever false castle you build!" The ring of molten snow around her widened, a month's worth of frost reduced to summer melt.
Ser Price's shadowy armor erupted in flame! He glowed from within, the dark tendrils transformed into crimson licks of righteous fire!
Crawmon Copperriddle's fists crack and pop like bonfire logs, his muscles steaming.
Lady Bandella's greenery ignited and she was no longer a deciduous but a burning bush, a personification of the Noonlight Shrine.
A ring of Kindlers, each armored with the will and weapons to burn their way back into the dream and destroy it from the inside. The snow around them melted, and in moments they were standing in a shallow stream of snowmelt that poured over the edge of the Precipice Shrine.
Sarah grinned, and the as the endless night lifted around them their flames roared higher. It seemed like a good omen, but though night had ended the sun failed to rise. They were stuck in wan, lightless night, and as the sky above them remained black and starless the darkness that had pressed in like smothering cloth was replaced by a more insidious darkness.
1
{Spoiler}{Coalition of WhiteCayge} Sarah LeeorioncaygeRuby6: Lady Richtung, Marchioness of Schneeland - Sarah's Braixen7: Lady Bandella of House Danna- ENGAGE9: Cherrin Pepsin, Retainer of House Pepper - Orion's Delphox11: Crawmon Copperriddle12: Ser Price18: Earl Slamson of Breakcourt - Ruby's Indeedee
FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 10 | TIME: 09
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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 Feb 8, 2023 13:10:37 GMT 9
#s://img~nickpic~host/CzyYVD~jpg "Oh dear." The cat tuts, reproaching. "No one likes a cheater who makes obvious they cheat. You gotta keep that shit concealed."Tuesday would know. Manipulation has always been her game. No... Not Tuesday's... {MEMORY}
O’ Ares,
O’ Mars,
O’ Child of War,
Does every flower your hands touch die?
Does every seed you sow perish?
Do your ears bleed?
Does your head ache with the sound of war drums?
Are your knuckles bloody, bruised and broken?
Your feet sore and aching?
Is your throat cracked and dry from the fighting, the running, the war cries?
Is this your last battle?
Will you lay down your sword, commit yourself to
This dry earth, this lifeless soil in marriage ‘til
Death do you part?
No child, no.
Do not settle for this land of dust and solitude.
A long battle awaits you but you will be
Triumphant.
Her voice is soft like gentle flame, bringing warmth, comfort, and safety. She smiles at him with the radiance of the sun that illuminates his days, and in her gaze burn the soft fires of a hearth, those which could so easily become wild and burn through everything.
She had fire in her.
He had inherited that fire from her.
She had raised him to be strong. She had raised him to face every problem in his life as if he were going to war. The memory burns through everything. It burns through dreams, it burns through delusions, it burns through lies and tricks and deceit. It burns through instincts that don't belong. And it even burns through goals so similar yet so different from Tuesday's own. Tuesday. "Sounds like we both should be glad I never reached you, CLAW." She smirks, even though her guild leader cannot hear her. They do have a lot to discuss, but that's a matter for another time. "Now, enough of this 'Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss' bullshit. That shit's so 2021."First things first, a change in attire is order. Putting her bloody shard safely away, gone are the maid dress and apron, replaced by Tuesday's own dark garments, crimson cloak, and gold epaulette. While putting on black leather gloves, she looks at those around her. At the mist. At the lavender blooms. At the Ć̶̨Ö̶͖́R̸̻͝R̸̰͑U̵͈̅P̷̝͌T̸̲̀I̴̗͒O̷̓͜N̶̰̽. that surrounds them. "Ancile."<'Yes, my liege?'>"Shield."Ice cold chains wrap around her left wrist, closer and closer until the back of the Cryogonal is right against her forearm. The cold has no effect on her. Is it her FREEZER perks, or is it perhaps the KINDLER flame that now burns anew and reawakened? "Two Seedot." She begins, reaching for something out thin air. "Three Magikarp." Her hand wraps around an adorned steel rod... no, a spear. Cold as ice and beautiful. "Two Meowth, a Nidoran, a Skwovet, a Nosepass, a damn Mareep..." Tuesday stands tall, crimson cloak billowing in the gelid breeze. Spear in hand. Shield at her arm. She is ready for war. She who has has been named after wars. "...And my fucking Fennekin." The memory of the princess' scornful glance burns within, and the hatred in those mismatched eyes could set this whole place aflame. Scarlet flames. Blue flames. Flames of war. She didn't give a damn for most of them, that much is true, but Aesop... Oh, she should have never given Aesop to the Precipice. "I have given you more power than anyone, and I can take it all back. I wasn't the one who woke you, bitch. I stole from you. Wasn't that enough of a sign?"The circlet. The circlet Tuesday still proudly wears. She had never cared for the favour of the princess. She had never cared for waking her. That day, back in the Timberlands, when she had seen the princess asleep, she had chosen to steal from her instead of waking her from her slumber. She had sacrificed to the Precipice to satisfy her curiosity. She hard cared for the shrine, she had been intrigued by it, but she had never served the princess.The authority of the Precipice is not the authority of the princess. It wasn't before and it won't be again. "Alexa." The immovable spear remains perfectly still when Tuesday lets go, pointing up to the darkened skies. Gloved hands are brought together as they have so many times before, and determined, Tuesday whispers her prayer into darkness and fog: "O Precipice.
O Abyss.
O bringer of the all-consuming mist.
The world exists in cycles unperturbed.
The cycle from which this fog is born,
that which caused all these lavenders to bloom
...and that in which night gives way to day too.
I, Tuesday, one of The Creed, ask this of you:
May a new day break and wake us from our slumber,
for dreams and waking are a cycle too."Light illuminates their surroundings. A light that had abandoned them before. Tuesday hasn't forgotten: OBJECTIVE: End the Endless Night 1
2 PERSONAL INFLUENCE POINTS USED
FAVOR: 4 | INFLUENCE: 6 (1 EXTRA PERSONAL POINT) | TIME: 10
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