Author Topic: Seeking of the Butcher  (Read 24058 times)

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #75 on: January 23, 2012, 10:08:49 pm »
[I had to do some serious pruning to the other conversations that were going on in the tavern so that this entry made some semblance of sense. If I cut you out, please, don't be offened.]

(19:15:16) Barsidious clears his throat and straightens his collar slightly, his gaze flitting from one person to the other. His attention suddenly fixes itself on Finnis, as he observes his interactions with the other people entering, and his cordial greetings.

(19:15:19) Masaro smiles a bit and turns back, glad the topic got dropped and seeing some nice, drama-less conversation

(19:15:53) Finnis says: Indeed. I figured one more nights stay couldn't hurt, although this town appears to be crawling with the villainous kind. I believe I just might make it out of here alive if I'm careful

(19:16:28) Danao says: Maybe...

(19:16:38) Danao says: But you aren't a fenki so you might stand a chance.

(19:17:17) Finnis lifts a brow, "Indeed?"

(19:17:54) Danao says: Been a bad run with fenkis turning up unconsious in odd places.

(19:17:57) Miomai quickly turns her attention to Finnis as the topic of death comes up. Though nothing further of interest to her is said, so she goes back to her reading.

(19:18:19) Masaro says: Wait, really? That's news to me...

(19:19:11) Danao looks back "Well I doubt I'm just lucky enough to be around for both fenkis in the last two days."

(19:19:19) Finnis glances over at the studious fenki, "You might want to inform that one, and the two downstairs."

(19:19:50) Danao chuckles "no thank you. I'm no newsboy. I plan on staying out of as much trouble as I can manage."

(19:20:06) Danao says: Enough people get hurt around here as it is.

(19:20:23) Masaro says: Good luck with that... I've been avoiding it by staying at the anvil but that gets boring after a while.

(19:20:42) Danao shrugs "I'm making my way with the furnace myself."

(19:20:43) Barsidious seems to have fallen very silent amidst the conversation.

(19:21:28) Finnis lifts a finger in suggestion, "Ah, why don't you two join me on the road? A life of travelling I can assure you is much more fulfilling than a life watching your back"

(19:22:06) Masaro says: I'm tired of relying on smiths for weapons and armor.. and I've had a lot of time since I left the guild, so I'm learning that.

(19:22:17) Danao says: Some how that seems like 6 in one hand and half a dozen in the other.

(19:23:06) Masaro looks to Finnis, "I've travelled enough thank you... I've still a few friends here which is more than I can say for other places, and that was before erm... some issues..."

(19:23:21) Miomai looks up at Danao and thinks about what she just said. The clamod starts counting on her fingers before she realizes she does not know what a half-dozen is.

(19:24:45) Danao says: I did my traveling already... I got here.

(19:24:53) Finnis seems genuinely dejected and takes a sip of liqour to compensate, "Ah, so I must keep travelling alone..."

(19:25:09) Barsidious leans back in his chair and slowly rolls up his sleeve to his shoulder. Showing the somewhat sullied bandages there, he unravels the carefully applied cloth and reveals the badly burnt flesh beneath, still somewhat reddened and charred by the effects of a fire. He studies the cracks in his skin with care, and then uses the old gauze to try and wipe away some of the blood, lest the injury become infected.

(19:26:20) Danao says: Well, you could just take root somewhere and get it over with.

(19:26:23) Danao laughs

(19:26:52) Miomai looks outside and sees no rain, she helpfully calls down to the fenki, "It stopped raining," in her currently monotonous voice.

(19:27:50) Masaro looks over to Barsidious and frowns, "You're burnt too? I think maybe you should see a healer about that..."

(19:28:02) Finnis shakes his head furiously, "No ma... sir. I plan to keep moving till the very end. No point in settling down now."

(19:29:29) Finnis takes a look at the hideous wound, "Indeed! That needs proper medical treatment. I believe there's a sanitarium of sorts in this town?"

(19:29:29) Barsidious grins at Masaro, the corner of his mouth tweaked in a gratifying smile. "Ran into a bit of an over eager red way mage," he explains. "Felt I was cheating him on a transaction...and didn't take to the idea too kindly."

(19:29:40) Miomai turns again and says, "Lazahene."

(19:30:36) Danao looks over at Barsidious

(19:31:11) Barsidious smiles pleasantly and nods at Danao. "Sir," he says, and begins to re-apply some bandaging to his injury with a steady and practiced hand.

(19:31:13) Danao says: Sounds bad... I had enough of a time just with a furnance burn...

(19:31:14) Finnis nods to Danao, 'Indeed, my grave should be my first, and last, resting place, wherever it may be."

(19:32:13) Danao looks back at Finnis

(19:32:29) Miomai gives up on her reading in the busy tavern. She closes the book gently and places it in her bag. The fenki stands up and rests her arms on the railing, finding some small interest in the conversation taking place below.

(19:32:36) Masaro tilts his head, "Someone apparently needs to learn control... not even I was that easy to set off."

(19:32:43) Danao says: You don't plan for many people to be visiting your grave do you?

(19:34:20) Finnis laughs in his goodnatured way, "may grave is most likely to be a pile of bones in a vast empty field, no, I don't expect many to even notice I'm gone"

(19:35:32) Miomai curls a lip and narrrows her eyes as she mentions casually, "But she might stick you with an arrow."

(19:35:35) Masaro says: I'd like to be noticed if I was gone for good, myself...

(19:36:03) Danao just nods slowly "That is kinda... a hard way to go don't you think?"

(19:37:14) Finnis says: what's that? Alone in a field? I say it's rather liberating, having no ties to hold you back.

(19:37:40) Danao says: And nothing to tie you to anything... No legacy.

(19:38:01) Danao looks for a moment at the area where the fireplace is when the purring starts

(19:38:31) Masaro says: It seems kind of... sad, knowing when you go you won't have anything left behind...

(19:38:34) Masaro puts his ears down

(19:38:46) Miomai is mildly disturbed by the cuddling scene below, and also mildly intreagued. She ponders what it might be like herself to hug a nolthrir, though she's determined that it'd definitely be a male nolthrir.

(19:38:49) Finnis touches his finger to his nose, 'Ah, but I've left my mark on this world. A little touch here and there, that's good enough for me."

(19:39:50) Danao says: Well I can't say that would be enough for me...

(19:40:52) Finnis sips on his mug and looks upon Danao with some consideration, "If you don't mind, how do you plan on leaving your mark? What would be good enough for you?"

(19:41:07) Barsidious has started grinning like some kind of fool. He realizes this, and instantly he molds his expression into a much more placid and less wolfish one. Standing up suddenly, he moves towards the bar and tosses Allelia some tria, before bringing a mug towards himself and taking a sip of hte frothy brew. With his good hand he gestures to those gathered and speaks in an amiable and welcoming tone, "Mind if I join the conversation?"

(19:41:50) Masaro smiles a little, "Go ahead sir... more fun with more people, especially people I've yet to meet"

(19:42:14) Danao scratches the side of his face "I don't know... Raise a family, maybe start my own farm... contribute back to those around me. I suppose I haven't given it much thought."

(19:42:23) Finnis nods to the al of a sudden friendly Ylian, "Indeed good sir, the more the merrier, how's about your name?"

(19:43:17) Miomai watches Jilata leave, but says nothing and remains rather stoic.

(19:43:21) Barsidious smiles and gently passes his mug into his injured hand, gripping the handle lightly, apparently still possessing some mobility of the appendage. He raises his hand first to Masaro for a shake. "Barsidious, at your service. A travelling merchant, and aspiring philosopher."

(19:43:56) Danao chuckles "Philosopher?"

(19:45:04) Barsidious flicks a glance over towards Danao and flashes a smile, the expression deepening the crow's feet radiating from his eyes. "Why certainly!" He says. "Then again, I suppose many people are in their own right. Though they would not necessarily say as such. It's the study of moral aptitude, yes? Very fascinating."

(19:45:12) Miomai determines she doesn't like the continued affections down below, and vocalizes it, "ew." She turns back to the group on this floor and rests her elbows on the railing.

(19:45:33) Danao says: I never thought about it much myself. I don't think I'm much of a philosopher.

(19:46:35) Finnis smiles, "Ah, a fellow free thinker eh? welcome to our little circle."

(19:46:36) Danao nods at Karnath "Afternoon..."

(19:47:22) Miomai knits her brow as she tries to understand every fifth word from Barsidious. Her Dark Crystal earring glows with her effort, but she fails to understand what in Dakkru's Realm he is talking about.

(19:47:59) Barsidious lets his hand dangle in front of Masaro for a moment, and then, smile never faltering, moves it over to Finnis to be shaken. "So what is the fodder of conversation this evening?" He chimes, his tone especially jovial.

(19:48:31) Danao looks over at the fenki by the stairs for a brief moment

(19:49:12) Masaro would have shaken the hand in a timely fashion, smiling a bit, "Apparently still death... all it's been since I got here earlier"

(19:49:16) Danao says: Talking about what we leave behind last I can remember.

(19:49:34) Finnis gladly takes his hand and gives it a single firm shake, "Finnis Shelnut's the name, the menki here goes by Shadow, don't ask me why, and the pretty gentleman by my side is, well, the name's slipped my mind."

(19:50:04) Danao says: Danao...

(19:50:13) Finnis says: Danao

(19:50:29) Barsidious chuckles and offers Danao his hand as well, following through with the cordial introduction. His smile falls as he hears Masaro's comment, and he furrows his brow. "Yes. I've heard of killings. Tragic, really. I hope they catch the bastard."

(19:51:02) Danao shakes Barsidious's hand as well

(19:51:56) Masaro looks to Barsidious, "What do you go by?"

(19:52:11) Finnis says: yes yes, 'twould be nice to be rid of the evils in this world, but wouldn't be too exciting then, would it?

(19:52:29) Danao says: I could live with that...

(19:52:34) Danao says: No pun intended.

(19:52:47) Masaro says: Excitement and a few trips through the dark realm is different from finding corpses...

(19:52:48) Barsidious drops his hand back so that he can once more switch his filled mug of beer into his uninjured hand. "Barsidious," he repeats. "Folks used to call me Bars were I'm from, you're perfectly welcome to use that addressal if it suits you." He tilts his head and ponders Finnis' statement. "Perhaps, but it's the nature of the adventure, isn't it? Being dead isn't very adventurous."

(19:53:31) Masaro says: Well then, Finnis, Danao, and Barsidious... nice meeting you three

(19:53:32) Finnis sips on his mug with a nod, "Indeed."

(19:53:42) Danao says: Same.

(19:54:23) Finnis tips his hat to Masaro, "Leaving good sir? I see the rain has ceased to fall. Let your travels stay dry."

(19:54:42) Barsidious's eyes glimmer with a faint sort of humor, and he raises his mug to enjoy a deep drink of his cold beer. "Hmm," he says. "The characters you can meet by random chance, eh?" He glances at Masaro and raises his brow at the menki inquiringly.

(19:54:58) Masaro says: Oh no... I'm staying....

(19:55:07) Masaro nods to Barsidious

(19:55:37) Barsidious chuckles. "So, what shall we discuss, hm? Are any of you of a particular religious persuasion?"

(19:56:06) Danao shrugs "talad worshipers in my family."

(19:56:53) Finnis scratches his beard, "I've seen the hands of all the many gods in my lifetime, though I don't claim to serve any of them, rather try to avoid them." he chuckles lightly at himself

(19:57:33) Venorel orders a Red Liquor

(19:57:37) Barsidious nods. "Ah, yes. The God of forgivness, of grace and mercy and vindictive restraint. Not a bad pick, really. Certainly somewhat less flawed than most people, though in general most of the gods tend to be somewhat...human." He looks to Finnis with a certain amount of interest. "Why do you say that?" He asked. "What makes you fear them, hm?"

(19:57:47) Finnis tips his hat to the Ylian as she approaches the bar

(19:57:47) Danao chuckles "Not a good way to hedge your bets there."

(19:58:09) Miomai frowns at Finnis' declaration of his agnosticism. She is obviously disturbed by this and mutters a curse towards him for such a blasphemy as that.

(19:58:52) Masaro says: I'm not really in a religion either... I've seen the good and bad side of Laanx, Dakkru, and Xiosia... I don't fit with any of them exactly, but follow many of their ideals and understandings

(19:59:28) Danao nods in acknowledgment to venorel

(19:59:39) Finnis says: hmm, I never considered it a fear to be sure, but it could be that at some level. I just don't like to bog myself down with any sense of duty or loyalty is all.

(20:00:24) Venorel listens with interest to the discussion

(20:00:26) Danao says: You really don't tie down to anything do you?

(20:00:28) Danao lifts an eyebrow

(20:01:02) Barsidious takes another sip and asks of the three gathered, "So tell me, then. It's such a nebulous topic, but please, to entertain me with your wonderfully studious responses. What do you think the epitome of moral Truth is? What drives you towards your own valiant and noble deeds, hm?" His eyes twinkle again with a sort of personal merriment, and his tone carries nothing but sincerity.

(20:01:11) Finnis smiles and winks at Danao, "been free as a bird since the day I escaped my mothers womb."

(20:02:26) Masaro says: ... always tried to do what was right, it just makes sense...

(20:02:45) Finnis raises a finger in answer, 'Truth I'd say is what lies on the horizon."

(20:02:48) Danao shakes his head "Not what I'd call free..."

(20:02:48) Miomai repeats her curs for Masaro and thinks that she ought to be writing this stuff down, lest she forget these people. She hunts in her bag for her diary and then remenbers that it is missing. She frowns and looks around. As if the tavern might hold the answer. It could, if a certain elusive fenki friend were available, but sadly she's elusive.

(20:03:22) Danao says: I can't say I have many nobel deeds to account for... I just needed a change I guess.

(20:04:06) Masaro says: Helping others to live happily, and keeping others who would end that from being able to...

(20:04:32) Masaro grumbles a little as he catches a curse from Miomai, shaking his head and looking back into the group

(20:05:01) Barsidious nods in time to Masaro's and Danao's words, seeming to be collecting these replies with a personal earnest. He glances towards Finnis with utmost curiosity, waiting for him to add voice to the discussion as well.

(20:05:21) Masaro says: Besides... I vowed I would protect the innocent when I became an Adani... I might have left the guild but didn't forsake that vow....

(20:06:00) Venorel speaks up with a mild slur to her words, "If not a Kran or a Xacha, I see no need to give worship to any God. They treat such praise a smight indifferent lovers"

(20:06:46) Venorel sips on her cider

(20:06:48) Finnis gives Venorel a sideways glance, 'Easy on the mug there miss."

(20:07:01) Barsidious tips his drink at Masaro. "That is a very noble intent," he replies. "Perhaps you should tell me of this Adani later." He glances over at Danao and winks. "Often our time is yet to come. Everyone gets their day, I assure you. Even craggly old Ylians like me who talk too much and do too little." He chucklees and merely says to Finnis, "Please, expound upon that statement."

(20:07:09) Danao lifts eyebrow and looks at Venorel

(20:08:59) Danao looks back at Finnis

(20:10:24) Finnis nods, "Gladly. You see, Truth is rather elusive, dont you think? It keeps us searching but we never find it. It's lies on the horizon as a said, in a land you can never reach. 'Tis why I keep travelling, honestly, to learn and see all I can before I go."

(20:11:29) Miomai is fed up with Barsidious' large words like "expound" and Finnis' words like, "elusive." She decides to join the simpler banter down below, taking the shortcut of hopping over the railing.

(20:13:27) Danao says: I don't think that truth is all that hard to get...

(20:13:31) Barsidious nods in time to Finnis' words. "That's an excellent statement, a well thought out reply. Quite an interesting method, too, to travel seeking something you may never truly answer. Ah, that is life though in so many cases." He pauses, perhaps for a bit of dramatic effect, having no clue that his overly verbose statements are upsetting the poor, lovably addled clamod. Musing only for a moment, he continues his banter, clueless to the fact that his inquisition my be counted as a bit...eccentric. "Tell me, then. What is it that is good about a person, man or woman. What specifies goodness from evil?"

(20:14:27) Danao chuckles and mutters"Whether or not I want to boot them all the way to the crystal..."

(20:15:10) Miomai dismounts from the railing like a seasoned gymnast. She lands like a flailing fool. The clamod stumbles as she hits the bench, catches herself, stumbles as she dismounts from the bench, catches herself again and bumps into the wall. At least she managed to keep herself upright this time. "Oof," she emits as she finishes her pathetic display.

(20:16:00) Danao smiles and looks back at the woman behind him

(20:16:29) Finnis chuckles at Danao's answer, "I follow a 'live and let live' policy. Has worked for me thus far." He says with a grin

(20:16:59) Masaro's ears perk at Miomai's failed landing attempt, and he looks to Barsidious, "Well... I suppose good means not disturbing other's lives, or ending them in some cases, and trying to make society as a whole a better place..."

(20:17:39) Masaro says: Bad... acts like thievery, murder, torture... acts that cause others pain against their will

(20:18:08) Finnis scratches his beard, thinking about his answer some more, "I suppose the worst thing you could do to a man like me is keep him locked up in a cage."

(20:18:20) Barsidious squints an eye shut in a wink, and gestures with his mug as if saluting to everyone present. "Pacifism," he remarks. "That's a very useful trait to have." He turns and glances curiously at Masaro. "Funny. Your statement makes good out to be more an absence of evil, rather than a concrete or stable definition. Which I suppose if you think about it...that makes a certain amount of sense. But that also means those annoying snarky individuals that get under your skin aren't evil, no matter how much you may wish it." He chuckles.

(20:19:21) Masaro says: Well erm... I used to be one of those kinds of people... and sometimes still am. I don't think myself evil though.

(20:19:49) Finnis nods at Masaro, "I doubt anyone thinks of themselves as evil."

(20:20:21) Masaro says: Well, true.... I try not to be though, that's the difference.

(20:20:26) Danao says: I don't think much about it until well... stuff like unconsious fenkis start turning up.

(20:20:50) Masaro plays with his claws, "I know I have the potential to be, it's why I'm trying so hard now..."

(20:21:57) Barsidious watches Masaro's claws for a brief moment. His voice softens slightly, and sounds almost fatherly in nature. "We can't all be perfect. Life is often about accepting our own flaws, and learning to deal with them. Learning to move on, kknowing that it's perfectly acceptable to make mistakes, so long as we know they are there, and strive to change."

(20:21:58) Danao says: Well at least you try.

(20:22:21) Masaro looks up and nods, not saying anything

(20:22:56) Finnis tilts his head towards the door, 'Maybe it's the liquor playing tricks on my old ears, but sounds like there could be trouble outside."

(20:23:30) Barsidious frowns and turns slightly, his attention faltering. "Hm," he mumbles, and gently moves to set his mug on a table, before striding for the door and over the threshold.

(20:23:31) Masaro tilts his head, "... sounded like one of the dermorian sisters..."

(20:23:51) Danao says: I'll be stayiing here though...

(20:24:04) Danao says: I've had enough trouble as it is.

(20:25:06) Masaro walks outside and looks around

(20:25:11) Barsidious shrugs, "Seems quite empty to me," he comments.

(20:25:23) Masaro nods in agreement

(20:25:23) Finnis sets his mug down and scratches his beard in contemplation, "Hmm, 'twould be a smart move to stay here where I know I'm safe... but I've never been one to stay put. No sir, I don't like it." he makes for the door

(20:25:31) Danao watches people go outside "There's going to be more unconscious people today."

(20:26:13) Danao shakes his head

(20:26:24) Danao grumbles and heads outside with the others

(20:26:36) Barsidious frowns. "I'll take a look back in this alley," he comments, and moves towards it.

(20:32:07) Barsidious re-emerges and glances around at the crowd. "Apparently no trouble," he comments.

(20:32:15) Finnis says: indeed, now where'd I put my mug?

(20:32:27) Masaro shakes his head, "Nope, no trouble"

(20:32:58) Barsidious chuckles softly. "You probably won't find it, my good Xacha. Likely someone has already taken it for their own drinking pleasure."

(20:33:11) Finnis says: young man, you must stop crying Ulbernaut, or else no one will believe you when the real danger comes

(20:33:42) Masaro grins and a bit of dark magic shows around his eyes, "That or I'll give you reason to flee"
(20:33:46) Barsidious smirks. "What DID happen, precisely?"

(20:34:26) Finnis sighs, "'Tis sad but true. Seems to be a case of false alarm.”

(20:35:04) Barsidious chuckles. "Well, at least it provided for a brief diversion, if nothing else.

(20:35:25) Miomai lets out a canned reading quip.

(20:35:59) Finnis takes in a deep breath, "'Tis true. I've been cooped up in that stuffy ol' tavern for too long. I think it's about time I hit the road once again."

(20:36:57) Masaro says: Leaving so soon? Well Finnis... hope to see you again then.

(20:37:11) Miomai wishes there were tables and chairs in the library for, you know, reading in peace. She closes her book again and heads out of the tavern, having not finish the sentence she started hours ago.

(20:37:14) Barsidious smiles. "Actually I would like to go out along the road. I was thinking about trying Gugrontid, some sales there to be made perhaps. Shall we travel together?"

(20:38:57) Finnis tips his hat at Masaro, "Yes sir, it's about time for me to travel along. I'm sure to pass this way again. How's about I buy you a drink then?" He looks at Barsidiuos, "That sounds like as good a direction as any, and I'm always glad for a traveling companion."

(20:39:50) Barsidious makes a sweeping sort of bow, and nods to Masaro. "It was good meeting you, Sir Shadow. May our paths cross once more, which I'm sure they will. Small world, and all that." He lets out a boisterous laugh.

(20:41:07) Masaro says: You two both take care, don't let the arangmas get you

(20:41:45) Barsidious turns, his robes moving slightly. "Hah! Bring on the arangmas." He shakes his fist at the air valiantly and makes off towards the stairs at a steady, easy gait.
« Last Edit: January 23, 2012, 10:17:06 pm by Mariana Xiechai »

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #76 on: January 23, 2012, 10:16:14 pm »
[An aside: Only these two could make kidnapping someone with intent to murder somehow hilarious. I was actually sad to have to prune out the OOC comments, maybe I'll make a seperate post for them later. I wuff joo guyz  :love:]

(21:00:38) Barsidious halts amidst the trees. "Hm. Fancy a quick picnic? I haven't eaten much today and I'm a bit starved."

(21:01:37) Finnis stops and looks around, "Sounds lovely, but I'm afraid I haven't any edibles on me, although I'm something of a renowned forager."

(21:02:49) Barsidious gives a chuckle. He removes a tightly rolled blanket from his travelsack, and spreads it out smoothly onto the ground below his feet. Tugging out the ruffles, he takes a seat and begins drawing some bread and dried meat from his travelsack, setting them out as a sort of offering. "Help yourself."

(21:03:54) Finnis smiles and nods, always willing to subsist on the generosity of others, "Indeed? Well, if you insist."

(21:04:15) Finnis joins Barsidious in the light snack

(21:06:24) Barsidious chuckles again, his eyes twinkling once more with that strange sort of humor. He watches Finnis eat, and puts a bit of the cheese into his mouth, enjoying the sharp taste of it. He draws out a bottle and pours some of the liquid into a cup, one that has a white, powdery residue on the bottom, previously applied, that dissolves instantly on contact with the liquid. Leaning forward, he offers Finnis the drink.

(21:08:19) Finnis munches on the bread and dried meat, glad to have something substantial in his stomach to go along with the red liqour from the tavern. He gratefully accepts the cup and swallows a mouthful of food, "Ah, what's this?" he asks as he wafts it towards his nose.

(21:10:30) Barsidious smiles as he pours himself a cup of the same liquor, corking the bottle once more and setting it aside. "A wonderful vintage of wine, I assure you. The grapes must have been juuuuust perfect. I found it on one of my trips to the barn level. Best you'll ever taste." The illustrate, he takes a deep draft of his own glass, and swallows.

(21:13:45) Finnis raises his cup in toast, "To the spoils of the road" and tosses it back, enjoying it's warmth as it coats his gullet. "Ah, satisfying." he says and smacks his lips a bit, "But leaves something of an aftertaste, doesn't it?"

(21:15:58) Barsidious gives another soft chuckle. His eyes glint further as he observes Finnis. "Only the best do," he replies offhandadly, not really caring about that. "So tell me, Finnis. You say that you search upon the horizon for the Truth, the difficult ideal of good and evil, to further perhaps an understanding of the world and yourself." His smile grows strangely plastic. "I think a bit of self-searching is required for such revelation, no?"

(21:19:06) Finnis nods as he drains the remnants of his cup, and leans back casually, enjoying the stimulating conversation, "Indeed, traveling alone offers me that opportunity. My thoughts are more likely than not my only companion."

(21:21:39) Barsidious nods as we watches the Xacha, as if waiting for something with a forced sort of patience. He too drains the last of his drink, running his finger along the rim to make it emit a soft ring. "I'll tell you about the true matter of good and evil. You see in all there is evil, despite the facade that we so often evoke. And we try to cover it up, beneath layers of personal justification, until it doesn't really exist anymore and we no longer acknowledge it's presence." He gives a short, curt sort of smile. "And of course, the only way to deal with it is to draaaag it, kicking screaming and biting, back out into the light."

(21:28:13) Finnis grows drowsy and his eyelids heavy, he leans back on an elbow, trying to focus on his Ylian companion, although he is growing more blurry be the second, and his voice slowing and lowering in pitch, he shakes his head to try and clear it, and tries to say something along the lines of, "Must of had too much liquor." or "I'm sorry, but I don't follow." or even, "Why's it getting dark all of a sudden?" but instead falls unconscious to the ground, the little cup which sealed his doom rolls away from limp fingertips.

(21:30:36) Barsidious smiles gently at Finnis as he loses consciousness. He doesn't catch any of the garble, obviously, but he does go about collecting his things and cleaning off the blanket. That finished, he cinches his travelsack shut once more and swings it over his shoulder, before moving to wrap the blanket around the now unconscious Xacha, and attempts to pick him up off the ground by placing one arm beneath his shoulders and the other beneath his knees. This is relatively painful as one of them is badly damaged, and he grimaces to show his distaste.

(21:34:06) Finnis is lifted without having any ability to resist, or even the awareness of what's happening to him. He may be a bit scrawny from a life of travel, but his lanky figure would pose a challenge and awkwardness to carry

(21:35:21) Barsidious grunts to himself as he moves to swing the corpse onto his back. Slightly bend over from his efforts, he turns, and strikes out, heading towards the ruins behind the city of Gugrontid. As he moves, he starts to whistle a merry tune to himself, his legs carrying him and his burden with a doggedly eager intent.

(21:42:02) Barsidious moves to set Finnis down on the floor. There appears to be a chain jammed into a crack in the wall, which he moves to undo and then slip over Finnis' wrist, snapping the cuff shut tightly. Then, with a gentlemanly care, he covers Finnis with the blanket so he won't get too terribly cold against the chilly stone floor, and steps back.

(21:43:11) Miomai remains behind the stone wall of the ancient ruins and listens intently to the goings-on on the other side. Her dagger is at the ready, should the need arise to do some damage to some unsuspecting agnostic.

(21:43:13) Finnis sits motionless, chained, captured... a personal hell for him really

(21:45:09) Barsidious chuckles softly at the Xacha. "Well," he muses. "You're about to have a very long lesson to that effect, aren't you?" He places his injured hand over the man's brow for a moment. "Have your eyes opened, you could say." Turning, he hops out of the small enclosure, and starts to cicumvent the thing, looking for any possible followers.

(21:46:38) Barsidious halts as he spots the clamod he vaguely recalls from the bar. He slowly arches a brow at her. "Well well," he mutters.

(21:47:56) Miomai bolloxed up her careful plan to sneak up on Finnis. Not surprising, as she's a half-wit. She's caught, red, or rather, black handed. "Oh..Uhm...Ah... " she stutters as she attempts to think of a valid reason for being here. She begins chipping away at the stone wall, "Just doing some mining heah, don't mind me."

(21:51:05) Barsidious chuckles very softly at the fenki. Strangely, he doesn't advance towards her, but rather remains rooted in place. "I'm afraid I'm up to some private business, which you can't be a part of, miss clamod," he says, his voice quiet. "I think you should sleep, take a bit of a nap. I mean, if you've been following for so long, surely you must be very tired." The tips of the fingers on his left hand glow with a soft blue light. "Don't you think you'd like to sleep?"

(21:54:49) Miomai doesn't want to sleep at all, but kill. She want to kill Finnis with her own two paws. Well one paw and one dagger. To take those paws and place them on the one side of her head and lay herself down to nap. No! To strangle that agnostic while he sleeps. A deep deep sleep that he never gets out of. That's it just lay there on that soft grass and...and....SNORE. Barsidious probably didn't even break a sweat on that task.

(21:57:11) Barsidious strides forward and stoops down to one knee, genuine amusement evident in his expression. He moves to place the palm of his good hand against her head, and begins to try to filter through her memories one at a time, skimming over them with a general disinterest, and looking for the tiny chain that illustrates the events she's witnessed up until the point she toppled over and was whisked off to kitteh dream land.

(22:01:03) Miomai's mind is the picture they show next to the defenition of chaos. Though he may be able to manipulate her mind, it would probably take some effort to understand it, as the neuron pathways are their namesake: neurotic. She's a mess in there, having been sane, insane, sane, insane, insaner and Dakkru knows what else. After some time, though that little bit that looks like her recent memory surfaces. It's right next to the part of her mind that thinks about purple fish and the one that dreams of being a rivnak. There's some connection between the two, but Barsidious is probably not interested in those. No, the thread he wants is in the middle, glowing like a little neon sign saying "Erase me!"

(22:05:37) Barsidious probably would go about picking through this brain, neurotic though it may be, if he had the time for him. After all, he is a rather sadistic bastard, and would take great pleasure in frying whatever little greymatter the poor clamod is still in possession of between her fluffy little ears. Alas, he has more important things to attend to at this particular moment in time, so instead, he simply reaches mentally for that one specific strand of thought and tugs at it sharply, as if to cut it loose from its brothers and sisters and send it flying into the tulmultuous abyss that is Miomai/Lazarene's cracked and addled little mind. His pupils glow softly with a faint blue light, and a pleased smile curls his lips as he goes about his work.

(22:10:04) Miomai's thread of recent events goes careening out of control inside her mind. It bumps into a few other parts of her and she sudenly learns how to rub her tummy and pat her head at the same time. In addition, now she dreams of being a purple fish, and wonders why her rivnak is that odd dull brown color. Otherwise, she's still the same ol' Miomainsanity Hydlaa's come to love or hate as the case may be. She shifts in her sleep and blows drool bubbles. She mumbles something about a galloping rivnak and a killing ulbernaut before becoming still again.

(22:11:29) Barsidious stoops to pick up the clamod and sling her slight frame over his shoulder. He stands, and turns away from the tower, satisfied for now in the knowledge that Finnis is under proper confinement.

(22:13:53) Barsidious hops up onto the rock and moves to deposit the fenki out of the reach of the mulling Riverlings. How very kindly of him.

(22:15:57) Miomai flops down on the hard stone and sprawls there like an abstract painting with her limbs all askew her tongue hanging out and bubbles now forming at her nose holes. Flies are buzzing around her ears in search of a meal.

(22:17:52) Barsidious can't help but laugh at the image. He lets himself enjoy it for a brief moment, before stepping casually off of the rock and leaving the unconcious clamod to her own devices. Strangely, he makes no move to further harm her. And he does not kill her. Apparently he's a very loyal homicidal maniac. Only one victim at a time.




Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #77 on: January 23, 2012, 10:20:02 pm »
@ Jilata: Thanks for that! It's an interesting point of view to hear the gossip that the situation is stirring.
@ Aramara: Awww, what, you really thought it only stopped at a crazed serial killer?  :devil: Bwah...bwah hah....Mwah hahahahahah!!!!! (Nu.)
@Travosh: DENIAL!

Phantomboy86

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #78 on: January 23, 2012, 11:11:50 pm »
Its why it was jefecar instead of jefecra, one's a yulbar ones a menki

and poor Finnis, thats why you never picnic with strangers.

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #79 on: January 24, 2012, 07:52:07 pm »
The ruins. Such an interesting illustration of metamorphosis. At some point it must have been a social mecca. A place of congregation for buyers and sellers with eager hands and flushed faces. Consumers passing tria over for both the mundane and the titillating in product variety. The proud and noble walls must have been polished to a notable shimmer, one with the capacity to magnify its own glamor by capturing and reflecting the light of the crystal on the clearest of days. These weeds would have been replaced by trampled dirt or frequently installed rubble. Perhaps the overgrown paths had even been laid with cobblestones that had been cut from the caverns and stones surrounding the place, using the natural geography of the region to mold the land into a less chaotic state.

But no longer. And this was where the transformation originated. Now it sat in this physical state of brokenness, a shadow of what it had once been. Nature had for the most part reclaimed it, and stretched her emerald arms over the sharpened, jagged points of the shattered stone buildings, adding these remnants to its own craggy version of aesthetic appeal. Maybe some day a civilization would see this place in its state of disrepair and mold it back to wholeness. Maybe they would erect newer, stronger walls. Maybe they would come together and make something glorious out of something so horrifically maimed and forsaken. At that point there would be an astounding reversion, and from the memory of what it had been like to be in such a moribund state, the city would stand prouder that it had ever been before.

Sharpening the knife against a rough-hewn stone that seemed made for such a purpose, Barsidious eyed his latest victim as he laid chained against one of those abandoned walls. Finnis was his name, a simple Xacha traveler. Unfortunately for him, all it took to be selected at this point was a general adeptness at social capabilities, and he could mingle well, from what he'd observed. He wasn't aware of his fate yet, sleeping in a drug-induced coma, his chest rising and falling to its own steady beat. He was covered in a blanket, tucked tightly around him. After all, it would have been terribly rude to let the chill of these stones get into his skin and touch his bones beneath. He hardly wanted his guest to be catching any colds or illnesses of the sort. He wanted him sharp, ready to discuss the nebulous moral fiber that they had been hinting at back in the tavern. Ready to see what else the man might have lodged up between his ears, he sincerely hoped that fear would not render him incapable of speech or, gods forbid, reduce him to a sniveling fool that wept and cried piteously in the corner.

Or to screaming. He'd just kill him outright if he started screaming.

The Ylian set the knife aside, astride his small sack of carefully mixed and fermented poison. He wouldn't coat it quite yet, not yet. He enjoyed letting himself have the pleasure of getting to know his victim before they both embarked on this rather personal journey. And the man would take a while to stir, so he settled himself down and reached into his robes, unfurling the letter he'd found placed upon the fountain. His eyes scanned it briefly, and instantly his head tipped back, rolls of laughter peeling from his mouth and echoing in the enclosed structure. She was so entirely dry about it. No elaborations, as if she were stating scientific fact and that the matter was mostly irrefutable.

Ah, Pomolle. My dear, dear miss Pomolle. I suppose we shall have to give you another demonstration, shall we? Not so easily rattled?

Oh, but he had rattled her, he could see it in the sloppy curves and arches of the letter he held between his thumb and index finger. If so little a thing as the knowledge of her name could invoke such a precious and entertaining response, certainly, then, his next application would send her reeling over the edge. Or at least skirting along right next to it, ready to throw herself over at the slightest shove.

Hands digging around in his bags, he eagerly began to scribe his elaborate and romanticized response. He knew his continued lightheartedness would likely infuriate her, which only pleased him further as the works were born upon the page. He saw no reason to waste perfectly useful time on waiting for Mr. Shelnut to awaken. After all, time was of the essence, and he was in rather a short supply as more of it slipped through his fingers.

How incredibly adorable you are
To try and engage me in this spar
You boast that you now know my race
While still you've yet to see my face
The fact and truth, dear miss Pomolle
Is that your guess is simply droll
I'm disappointed, can't you see!
For I know so much more of thee:
So sad your tale of grief and woe
To lose your family to your foe
Their limbs lop't off, their lives cut short
There could not be a greater retort
Would that I could have been the one
To spark your tears to endless run
Alas! I shall simply settle for
A simple settling of the score
I know your every move and dread
And soon you shall end, well...
QUITE DEAD.

Pleased with himself, Barsidious let his breath ghost across the still-wet ink to hasten its drying and folded it lengthwise, neatly, before putting it back into the pocket that sat above his heart. He figured the klyros would appreciate such tidiness. He knew that this too was an interesting quirk of hers, one that he found more than amusing in light of her chosen career.

Hopefully, she wouldn't be too put out when her own blood stained her tunic irreparably.
« Last Edit: January 26, 2012, 07:53:55 pm by Mariana Xiechai »

Phantomboy86

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #80 on: January 24, 2012, 11:30:41 pm »
Function over form!

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #81 on: January 25, 2012, 03:02:42 am »
My capacity for poetry is...needless to say...lacking.

Suno_Regin

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #82 on: January 25, 2012, 03:51:53 am »
While I don't know a thing about poetry, I found it quite nice!

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #83 on: January 25, 2012, 09:36:40 pm »
 :-[ Thanks Suno.

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #84 on: January 27, 2012, 03:21:38 pm »
Victim Number Three (Poor, dear Finnis Shelnut):

(22:47:41) Barsidious approaches the Xacha and stoops to one knee. His fingers move into his sack and he pulls out a vial, uncapping the thing and holding it so that the fumes waft up into Finnis' nostrils, carrying with it a very malodorous scent.

(22:47:41) Finnis stirs as he awakens from his drug induced slumber, eyes squinting as he tries to focus through the haze, "What? Where am I?"

(22:48:40) Barsidious situates himself calmly just out of the reach of the Xacha. "You are in the ruins," he says, voice somewhat disembodied by the mask he wears.

(22:50:07) Finnis blinks at Barsidious as his vision clears. He does a double take at the mask wielding Ylian and chuckles nervously as he feels the chains around his arms, "hehe, what is this, some kind of joke?"

(22:51:52) Barsidious leans forward slightly, steep-ling his fingers, his eyes flickering through the slits before them. He smiles, but the expression is lost behind this craggy visage. "No," he says. "I was hoping before we carry through with our little lesson here, we might further discuss what we spoke of at the tavern. About good and evil. About the contents of one's heart. I'll ask again. Do you think yourself good, Finnis Shelnut?"

(22:56:25) Finnis's nervousness increases and he wiggles trying to loosen himself from the chains. It takes him a moment to recollect the events prior to his drugging and he gasps at the masked figure, "You!" his nervousness seems to ebb a little, "I see now. This is some sort of philosophical moral aptitude test of yours? Well sir, yes, I DO believe myself a good person. This whole charade is entirely unnecessary, what happened to the pleasant picnic we were having?"

(22:59:08) Barsidious gives his head a curious sort of cant, a quizzical expression that is belied further by his gesturing towards the heavily restrained Xacha. "And you never truly defined good. Have you ever lied, Finnis? Have you ever stolen, or used the graces of others for your own benefit? Have you ever kicked or looked down upon those in a lower position than yourself? Have you turned your nose up at their material state of depravity?" He lets his words circulate, content to ignore the man's pointless inquiry about food and drink. "What makes one sin greater or lesser than another?"

(23:03:57) Finnis tries to relax to get through this strange ordeal of forced philosophical debate, but the chains around his arms remind him of his state of captivity, increasing his panic. He jerks every so often, subconsciously, and continues with the nervous laughter, 'I'll tell you what good friend, it certainly is a sin to keep a man locked up like this. Can't we have this discussion out in an open field, or how about over a pint in the tavern, eh? I'll buy!"

(23:07:06) Barsidious chuckles softly at Finnis. "You don't seem to understand," he says. "You see we are here to reveal the true condition of your soul, covered in sullied rags and dipped in fecal matter as it is. And the only way to do that truly is to bring it to the surface with abrupt and shocking clarity. We'll be getting to that. But first I'd like to pick your brain at least a bit...before I literally pick it apart. Piece...by piece...by piece...." The Ylian begins to fiddle with something beneath the folds of the dusty fabric on his chest, and the faint blue glow of azure way carries through the threading of the fabric.

(23:12:36) Finnis bites his lower lip as he watches the glowing mystical light brighten underneath his masked tormentors robes. His panic quickly grows into fear and he begins to struggle hard against his chains, trying to sweep his legs underneath himself to increase his leverage. He begins to plea, "Please... let me go... I haven't done anything wrong. I've never lied. Well, once...twice now, I never took anything that wasn't given to me... I live off the land, nothing wrong with that, now please..please... let me go...please."

(23:15:41) Barsidious waves his hands in a quelling motion, bringing his fingers downwards. "There, there," he says. "I'm going to let you go Finnis, when we're all finished here. I'm going to let you go, most assuredly." He reaches out a heavily gloved hand to try and place it on the other man's boot. "Now just settle down and let us ponder before we go a bit deeper on the subject, hm? Do you have loved ones, Mr. Shelnut? Family members that you often think about, or long lost friends that fill your chest with warm remnants of affection? Come come now...do cooperate, it will make this process that much easier and it will end." His tone and demeanor are strangely soft, his gestures and the candor of his voice genial.

(23:19:55) Finnis calms under Barsidious's suggestive words coupled with the Azure Way spell, he begins to answer honestly, "I think about my parents sometimes, but they died long ago. Never could stay in one place long enough to have, ya know, a romantic, long term relationship. I've been on my own and free all my life."

(23:22:30) Barsidious nods solemnly in response to this, something definitive flickering in his eyes, perhaps what might look like worry. "How sad, not to form what most would call so important and noteworthy a bond." There is a moment of silence, and he lets it drag just long enough to become uncomfortable, before continuing. "What were your parents like?" He asks quietly. "What fond memories do you have of them?" As he speaks, sensations of comfort and safety ebb from him, from the glyphs he has hidden beneath his clothing, emitting the deceptive illusion of calm.

(23:29:12) Finnis laughs briefly, a blissful smile appears on his face as his eyes glisten, the deep seeded memories buried under decades of travel and adventure now coming to the for under the power of barsidious's hypnotic spell, his mind regresses to a simpler age, "Mother made sugar cookies... but I can't have one till they cool... but I want one.. OW! Hot!" a look of terror seizes him as the darker side of his repressed memories appears, 'No father! I didn't mean to! Don't beat me father no!"

(23:33:07) Barsidious's smile disappears from his face beneath his mask. Something shifts in him, and though one might be quite generous to call this thing compassion, it's a ghost of it, a non-corporeal phantom, more brought on by his disappointment that his parents might not serve their suitable purpose. "What was your mother like?" He asks, withdrawing so that his voice seems a narrator rather than conversational. He attempts to let the ruins fall away in light of his home, glimpsing fuzzy memories of it and then laboriously bringing them forward in sharp detail. A fire on the hearth, a mother and father sitting casually and lounging in their chairs. Strangely he does not attempt to suppress the negative energies entirely, and allows Finnis to feel this innate fear of his father. He then draws further out, into an omniscient third person, to see what unfolds until he deems it necessary to interact.

(23:37:59) Finnis is back in his childhood home. A plate of sugar cookies fresh from the oven lies broken and smashed on the floor. It was a family heirloom, a priceless artifact. His mother looks petrified, his father looming over him, the flames of the fireplace back lighting him into a monstrous silhouette. 'Don't beat me father no!" His mother intervenes, taking the hit meant for him. "Run Finnis Run! Don't ever come back!"

(23:41:00) Barsidious slowly begins to slip into the situation, an intangible force, planting his feet in the shoes of his father. He forces the morbid memory of Finnis's encounter to mold to his will, and as such his father's hand lashes out towards the image of his mother to grapple with her and take her by the throat. He delivers another blow to her face, holding her unconscious body upright as she dangles lifelessly, and his eyes, brown in color despite what they might have been naturally, bore into Finnis. "You going to run, son?" He asks. His grip tightens on the woman's throat. "You going to kill your mother, you selfish coward?"

(23:45:36) Finnis shrinks in fear, tears now streaming down his face which is wrent in agony. The overwhelming fear he felt that day when he did in fact run away from home, never to return, compounded with all the years of his life he spent running from it. He claims to be free, but he is chained to the weight of his guilt. The implication of his tormentor's question has it's effect and he sobs and wails, "I killed her! I'm such a coward I killed her! Oh Gods what have I done!?!"

(23:49:24) Barsidious's voice begins to leak from the walls, making them shudder and tremble in response. He smiles softly as outside of the dream, his hands work mechanically, and he carries out the nearly cultist practice of coating his knife with the familiar poison. Placing it so that the hilt is within easy access, the hissing in the dream intensifies as the walls shift and form into countless mirrors, all reflecting Finnis' grief-stricken face and, more importantly, the pale dead body of his mother, which now lies lifeless and bloodied upon the floor behind him. "You're worthless," the voice whispers. "Scum. Not worthy of the life she gave you. Not worthy to draw another breath. Look at yourself, look at your very soul and see just how destitute it truly is. What can you do in the face of this? What can you do to redeem such filth? You can do NOTHING!"

(23:53:48) Finnis's freewill is broken under the power of Barsidious's spell. Unable to face himself nor the body of his mother, yet forced to look every way that he turns, he screams,"NOOOOO! I'm not worthy" he sobs, "It’s all my fault, I deserve to die, I'm nothing anymore."

(23:56:08) Barsidious utters a soft sort of chuckle as he leans forward, quickly unlocking the mechanism of the cuff chaining Finnis to the wall. He maintains the illusion, and gently pushes the dagger forward while at the same time he produces a dagger from shattered pieces of the mirror as it bursts into a brilliant and beautiful display of multiple fragments. "You're right," the voice encourages. "You deserve to die. You deserve to die for what you are."

(00:03:02) Finnis's voice becomes a weeping echo of Barsidious's exact words as he reaches out for the dagger, "I deserve to die... I deserve to die..." he repeats. No longer physically imprisoned, he has now fallen completely under the spell and has become a slave to it. He picks the dagger up turning the blade to aim towards his chest, he keeps repeating, now at a barley audible whisper, a hypnotic chant, "I deserve to die... I deserve to die... I deserve to die."

(00:06:22) Barsidious leans forward slightly, and both the phantom voice and his physical one rings out of mutual accord, stirring his vocal chords, his hands clenched tightly upon his knees in an un-subdued show of eagerness. His tongue runs itself once along dry lips, the tension in the air seeming to have sucked the moisture from him. "DO IT!" He says, and the reverberation is both mental and physical as his voice bounces off the walls of the small dilapidated enclosure and assails their ears upon its return.

(00:11:44) Finnis shouts as he plunges the dagger deep into his chest, 'I DESERVE TO D---" his words are cut off as his heart pumps blood directly into his lungs. His eyes clear of their glaze as the spell is broken and fall on the grotesquely formed wooden mask. It takes a moment for him to recollect the events prior to the spell, his final word croaked in his death rattle as the murtique courses through his veins, shutting down vital organs one by one, "You..." and Finnis Shelnut the wandering Xacha is dead. Permanently.

(00:14:02) Barsidious leans over the dead body, doing his best not to muss it up too badly as he tenderly turns it over upon the blanket he'd so carefully wrapped around it previously. He folds the hands over the chest, and passes a hand over the brow, but leaves the eyes open and gazing into sightless oblivion. "You've finally found your horizon, my friend," he says, his voice nearly choked with emotion. "You've found your Truth and faced it with noble intent." With that, he rises, and begins making preparations to move the body to the plaza.

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #85 on: January 28, 2012, 07:21:28 am »
[There was more to this role play, but I'll count on others to distrubute the logs whenever they can and I'll post them here as well.]

(20:56:10) Barsidious stoops down to pick up Finnis gently, wrapping him entirely in the blanket so that his head is covered and his feet are concealed. He then throws this makeshift sake over his shoulder.

(20:58:15) Finnis's corporeal remains flop over barsidious's shoulder, wrapped like a burrito, a tad stiff from the onset of rigormortis

(21:12:45) Barsidious hops up onto the balustrade and instantly he takes a loop of rope from his belt. Working rapidly, he begins to tie Finnis to the protruding structure, first once around his torso, then once around his waist. He removes the blanket and folds this neatly.

(21:16:26) Barsidious fixes the blanket behind Finnis' head like a malformed pillow. He smiles beneath his mask as he removes a letter and places it, rolled tightly, by the dead man's feet.

(21:18:59) Finnis's corpse remains passive and dead.

~ ~

(22:12:17) Eardstapa wraps the dagger gingerly in a clean handkerchief and slips it into her satchel. "Aye, either to find the klyros woman, or some other who can investigate. The dagger shall be my bargaining tool. "

(22:12:19) Dannae says: Uh, wait, that's her now

(22:12:35) Dannae points toward Evirea

(22:12:50) Evirea frowns. Deeply. Her eyes flit between the two, the elf and the nolrthrir, eyeing the dagger in the former's hand. "Don't tell me."

(22:13:05) Eardstapa turns Wyndhover towards Evirea. "Miss Pomolle, I presume?"

(22:13:19) Dannae says: You know something about this Vire?

(22:13:22) Evirea looks up at Eardstapa. "Accurate," she says.

(22:13:34) Evirea clenches her jaw. "Was there a body here?"

(22:14:06) Finnis , or all that's left behind of him, namely his fine traveling clothes soaked in congealed blood, and a really nicely crafted straw hat of Nolthrir origin, blow off the pedestal and drift lazily across the plaza grounds

(22:14:26) Dannae nods removing the cloth away from her face now that the odor and dust has dissipated

(22:15:34) Evirea holds the dagger between her hands and stares up at the podium, which now contains Finnis' sparse remains. For a moment, she looks back down again, her face is devoid of emotion. Then it shifts very quickly through a number of them: Fear, abject sorrow, panic. But mostly anger. A rage that starts to make her shoulders tremble with the power of it.

(22:15:52) Timil glances up at the grisly scene and decides he ought to have chosen a different fountain in which to wash his face.

(22:15:58) Dannae says: There was... a moment ago anyway... I never saw anything like what just happened

(22:17:01) Dannae says: The note, Eardstapa says it was addressed to you. Did you know... well, no, you didn't see... but maybe he was a relative?

(22:18:14) Evirea lowers her head towards the dagger. She starts muttering something to herself, and if anyone knew her before while she was trying to hide who she was, the effect seems similar. "Dead body. Torn apart from inside out. Reduced to dust, dust in the wind. Dust and so much dirt left of complex systems and organs and intricate vessels and..." Dannae's words snap her out of the commentary, and she jerks her head up wide-eyed. "Letter. What letter. WHAT LETTER?"

(22:18:18) Dannae eases herself slowly down off the fountain pedistal and approaches Evirea with a worried expression

(22:19:43) Dannae says: "I thought... Eardstapa didn't .... " she looks back, "No, I guess she didn't"

(22:20:05) Evirea's breathing seems irregular as she struggles with this new revelation. She seems rooted in place, and she stares at the mentioned bit of paper wide-eyed.

(22:20:32) Dannae retrieves the note, "It's addressed to a Mis Pommelle, is this you Vire?"

(22:20:51) Evirea can only nod.

(22:21:32) Dannae offers the note to Evirea

(22:22:05) Dannae says: I, um... I didn't look.... Eardstapa said who it was for


(22:22:46) Evirea takes the note and unfolds it slowly. Her eyes scan the words, quickening as she reads, ending with them as wide and petrified as they were before. The paper rustles softly in her hands and she clenches it in her fists as the trembling infects her arms.

(22:22:58) Dannae says: She picked up the dagger. Did she give you that at least?

(22:23:58) Evirea glances sideways, then at her travelsack, to indicate the hilt protruding from it. Throat clogged with emotion, she does not speak, still, and is struggling to gain control of herself.

(22:24:17) Dannae watches Evirea's emotions as she reads and her look becomes taught

(22:25:11) Dannae says: Is it from the xacha? It was a xacha... I didn't recognize him though

(22:25:48) Finnis is nothing more than dust in the wind, as free as he's always wished he'd been

(22:26:25) Evirea shakes her head softly as she sinks to her knees. The paper falls out of her hands and lands in her lap, which she quickly covers by placing her torso over it, hunched in this fashion, her hands moving to cover her face.

(22:27:03) Dannae says: "Vire" she gasps coming close to offer support

(22:28:36) Dannae says: "Is it... is...." she gives up thinking of guessing the nature of the letter

(22:28:40) Evirea seems unaware that Dannae is even present. She's muttering more things under her breath, constant ramblings that don't really make any sense to anyone but her. "Can't let him win. No. No. Got to regain control of the situation. Think. Find evidence. Can't panic. Don't panic. Panic locks the system, sends you into sympathetic, locks down your capacity to think clearly. Don't panic, don't panic..."

(22:29:53) Dannae says: "Vire!" she says with a bit more urgency, "Let me help... what is it... please"

(22:29:58) Evirea's letter simply falls to the ground and lands on a cobblestone, in plain view. Evirea's wide eyes still contain a glassy blank appeal, and she is unaware of this.

(22:31:10) Dannae kneels and after giving Evirea a look and noting she appears comatose in a sense reaches slowly for the letter

(22:31:29) Timil approaches Dannae and Evirea from around the fountain, his beard dripping slightly, looking newly washed. He looks with concern at the two before him. "I heard you talking. What has happened? Are you alright Vire?"

(22:31:41) Ylia stares unsure of what is real and what is illusion.

(22:32:01) Travosh says: That's a new knife all right...

(22:32:07) Travosh says: Body disappear already?

(22:32:08) Dannae's eyes flash to Ylia a moment then back to reading

(22:32:13) Ylia looks at the approaching Klyros and recoils speaking to herself

(22:32:22) Ylia says: ahmmm ddmmd godddamm it..

(22:32:28) Evirea makes no move to stop Dannae from claiming the letter. She is still on the ground, her face in her hands, but has been reduced to swearing softly under her breath, over and over and over again.

(22:32:37) Travosh says: ill be taking that as a yes.

(22:32:59) Dannae says: It's a threat... someone's threatening Vire

(22:33:24) Travosh says: I'm aware he has been for some time.

(22:33:29) Timil grimaces, at a loss for words, and looks to Travosh.

(22:33:38) Travosh prods Evirea with his foot. "You alright?"

(22:33:42) Ylia stares at all the winged creatures and rubs her eyes again, muttering to herself

(22:34:42) Dannae looks up from her kneeling position noticing Travosh then turns her attention back to Evirea, "I'll help... " she glances around at the gathered, "We'll all help"

(22:34:47) Ylia tries to understand the scene before her, but soon thinks it is all about her. Then looking to Travosh, she speaks out." Have you come through for me??"

(22:34:53) Evirea jumps at the prodding, her face coming up, her expression carefully rendered into one of absolute calm.

(22:35:39) Travosh says: Why in Dakkru's trousers would I be here for you?

(22:36:10) Travosh scans the note on the ground. "So... it worked."

(22:36:16) Ylia looks stunned at the smartassed answer from what she thought was a remnant of the beyond

(22:37:21) Ylia fearfully yet, curiously approaches the Klyros unbelieving

(22:37:55) Ylia reaches out to test if it is real or not, to touch

(22:37:59) Evirea grunts in her characteristic way. She holds out her hand to Dannae. "Letter."

(22:37:59) Travosh points one claw at Ylia, the tip beginning ot gather a red charge

(22:38:06) Travosh says: Touch me and learn what pain means

(22:38:41) Ylia squints still in disbelief, muttering that nightmares are not real

(22:38:50) Ylia steps closer

(22:39:00) Travosh releases a rather powerful burst of concussive air

(22:39:30) Ylia is knocked down in total shock

(22:39:30) Timil addresses Ylia. "Madam, I'd listen to him and take heed, if I were you."

(22:39:35) Evirea gets somewhat buffeted by this, but other than being slightly annoyed she is simply staring at Dannae and awaiting the letter. "Who has read this. Tell me everyone who has read this."

(22:40:24) Dannae looks puzzled by Evirea's request, "Just Eardstapa and me... I think"

(22:40:30) Ylia seems very red eyed for a nolthrir and a bit disoriented

(22:40:55) Travosh motions towards the letter. "This means it worked didn't it?"

(22:41:19) Evirea's voice is gratingly low. "As intended, I got a response," she replies, simply.

(22:41:25) Travosh says: And he's angered.

(22:41:46) Evirea says: "...I believe that would appear to be an over estimation, judging by the contents."

(22:42:16) Travosh says: Its called covering.

(22:42:26) Travosh says: He's after you in particular now. Hastened his approach.

(22:42:32) Dannae says: "So you expected this?" she looks astonished from Evirea to Travosh

(22:43:07) Evirea narrows her eyes slightly. "In part," she replies. "I wasn't expecting..." She pauses for a moment, and redoubles her efforts in earnest. "Give me the letter, Dannae."

(22:43:08) Travosh nods. "hoped for it."

(22:43:27) Dannae hands it back

(22:43:42) Waesed whispers to Timil, "What happened?"

(22:43:52) Evirea snatches the thing and conceals it in the palm of her hand. "But we've lost another person."

(22:44:03) Ylia listens but seems to loose track of it all, reaching for something in her pack, she retrieves a small vile, and opens it, leaning her head back , she allows a drop of golden liquid to fall upon her tongue

(22:44:16) Timil whispers back to Waesed, "They found another body with a knife in it, and a letter from the killer , addressed to Vire."

(22:44:19) Dannae says: It was a xacha

(22:44:20) Travosh says: Quite unfortunate, yes.

(22:44:31) Travosh says: But mourning his loss doesn’t avenge it.

(22:44:35) Dannae says: I didn't know him

(22:45:19) Ylia begins to slightly , almost glow in an unatural way, and a calm comes over her and her eyes seem to focus

(22:45:22) Evirea moves to shove the letter forcefully into her travelsack, growling softly to herself. "Oh, I damn sure am going to avenge it," she snaps.

(22:45:41) Waesed continues to whisper, "How many does that make now?"

(22:45:44) Dannae says: Are you.... alright now Vire?

(22:45:53) Ylia stands up, brushing herself off

(22:46:15) Evirea shakes her head. "No. But I will be."

(22:46:31) Dannae nods but looks doubtful

(22:46:45) Ylia now seems as a very different person than before and looks to Travosh with a slight smile

(22:46:46) Timil whispers back, "I'm not certain.. at least three, I think."

(22:46:58) Dannae looks to Travosh for his assurance

(22:46:59) Travosh says: Calm yourself. Anger leads to the mistake we've gotten him to make

(22:47:51) Dannae says: Oh, I got it now... this .... this is about that ylian you were asking about

(22:48:21) Ylia appearing to have calm control and strength she snaps her fingers and her rivnak appears.

(22:49:48) Ylia says: Allow me to express my sorrows for my previous behavior, I am recovering from an illness and my medication had simple worn off, please be well and I hope you solve this , problem

(22:50:00) Dannae looks past Evirea at Ylia

(22:50:28) Travosh is under the general impression that most nolthir have kelp between the ears, and barley pays attention

(22:52:36) Waesed looks at Timil. "I was headed to Kada-El's for a drink. guess I'll go on up."

(22:52:52) Evirea pinches her lips into a tight, shut line. "Damnit," she mutters beneath her breath.

(22:52:55) Timil nods to Waesed. "I'll see you later."

(22:53:14) Dannae's eyes shift to Travosh wondering why no one answered her question and thinks about eating kelp

(22:53:35) Evirea nods at Dannae. "It is," she replies.

(22:54:07) Travosh says: Ylian?

(22:54:35) Dannae nods, "I guessed it.... I might be slow, but I'm not stupid"

(22:54:38) Evirea says: "The Ylian we inquired about with the injury upon his arm."

(22:55:21) Travosh says: Ahh. Why, did you find one?

(22:55:43) Dannae nods one more time, "WHat does he have against you anyway.... why's he killing folks if he's got something against you?"

(22:56:18) Dannae turns to Travosh, "I saw him.... at Kada's"

(22:56:22) Evirea shakes her head. "I am uncertain. Most likely I'm not the inspiration for the killing, simply a target he has selected due to my...background and association with him."

(22:56:34) Travosh's eyes widen. "Did he give a name? Physical features? ANything?"

(22:57:44) Dannae frowns at the onslaught of questions, "I.. I wasn't paying so much attention at the time.... and no, he didn't say much.... but there was something cold about him.. I'll say that"

(22:58:04) Travosh says: Well at least you confirmed the race...

(22:58:23) Evirea sighs softly. "It is a possibility and little else, but we can hope that it's an accurate assumption."

(22:58:45) Dannae says: I only know now it was him 'cause I saw his arms... they were how Vire described to me after

(22:59:40) Travosh says: Better than nothing.

(23:00:05) Evirea nods agreement. She still seems to be very shaken by the contents of that letter, and unwilling to talk on the subject.

(23:00:08) Dannae says: He was sort of creepy... stared at me and Narthen, then mentioned so when he overheard me ask Narthen if she knew him

(23:01:50) Dannae shrugs, "I'd recognize him if I see him again"

(23:01:59) Evirea nods once more. "Yes, thank you Dannae. If you'll excuse me, I should be going." Her voice is a calm level sound that borders on monotone.

(23:02:14) Travosh says: If you see him, please send word to me or Vire.

(23:02:57) Dannae swings an arm in an attempt to catch Evirea's "You're sure you'll be ok... I mean, for now?"

(23:03:28) Dannae says: I saw the look on your face you know

(23:03:41) Evirea's arm is caught, but she moves to jerk it instantly back out of Dannae's grasp. "Nuance," she says.

(23:03:46) Dannae says: This guy... he scares you

(23:04:15) Evirea says: "Nothing frightens me, especially not demented psychopaths. I make a habit of hunting them down."

(23:04:18) Dannae sighs pulling back her hand

(23:04:29) Travosh says: He's hitting too close to home, you need to calm down.

(23:04:46) Evirea says: "I am perfectly calm."

(23:04:48) Dannae says: It wouldn't hurt to have some help would it?

(23:04:55) Travosh says: You aren't.

(23:06:05) Evirea turns slightly, and her voice becomes somewhat hoarse. "I have already accepted help," she says, and gestures vaguely in Travosh's direction. "Which is far more than I usually allow."

(23:06:15) Dannae says: You're putting up a good facade, certainly better than I could ever imagine doing, but I'm worried for you Vire.

(23:06:58) Dannae says: I don't think you should be alone

(23:07:17) Evirea says: "I am not alone. As I stated, I am working on this case with Travosh."

(23:07:29) Dannae glances once more to Travosh

(23:07:33) Travosh nods. "But you are still scared at the moment, as is perfectly natural."

(23:07:49) Dannae says: He's staying with you then?

(23:08:04) Dannae says: Are you Travosh?

(23:08:30) Travosh says: I do plan on it.

(23:08:42) Evirea makes no expression. "He has no need to be my constant guardian, no. I am able to carry on as I usually do. As for fear, what I do or do not feel has nothing relevant to do with capturing the killer, and so I do not see why it is a topic of conversation."

(23:08:44) Dannae says: Well, I feel better about that then

(23:08:48) Timil says: I want to help too, if I can.

(23:09:47) Travosh says: Fear has everything relevant with catching a killer

(23:09:49) Dannae rolls her eyes so only Travosh sees at Vire's explanation

(23:09:55) Timil says: Fear can impair judgement.

(23:10:05) Travosh says: we're dealing with a man who especially uses fear, as well as breaking into the minds of his victims

(23:10:14) Travosh says: He will shatter you like an egg if you fear him.

(23:10:33) Evirea says: "I can assure you my mind is nowhere near broken, Travosh. I have dealt with individuals like this Ylian many times before."

(23:11:10) Evirea doesn't notice the eye rolling, but she appears to want to leave as soon as she possibly can. "Now, I should be going. I need to test the dagger to see if there is anything new, and search the letter for clues."

(23:11:13) Travosh says: And this one knows your family and your past, and is hunting you.

(23:11:28) Timil mumbles softly, mostly to himself, "Pride goes before a fall."

(23:11:54) Evirea's eye twitches at Travosh's statement, though he can't possibly know what it invokes. "This is also irrelevant," she says, with false conviction.

(23:12:25) Dannae says: Look Vire, I know you think you have everything under control.... but just the same..... if you feel your place is unsafe or becomes so, you're welcome to stay at the Daughters guild house

(23:12:42) Travosh catches it as easily as he catches stupidity exuding from an enki. "Just calm your mind. Spend some time in meditation."

(23:14:38) Evirea shifts the weight of her travelsack on her shoulder. "I am planning to, if you would simply excuse me from this needless cross-examination." She nods at Dannae's offer. "Kind of you, but I think I shall decline. I am neither Xiosian nor fond of being locked behind bolted doors."

(23:15:57) Travosh says: The temple is open if you'd prefer a religion-less place, and the doors there would take a daemon to pry open from the outside.

(23:17:09) Dannae steels her courage to give Vire one more attempt with kindness, She turns giving the klyros a direct concerned look, "You'd be free to come and go as you please, but no matter... just... well, I wish you quick success in the matter... and I'll pray for your continued safety"

(23:17:39) Evirea narrows her eyes, seeing that obviously she isn't going to get away terribly easily. "No thank you," she says, and begins to back up subtly. "Thank you, Dannae. Mr. Travosh. We'll speak later. I really need to be going."

(23:18:18) Timil looks up. "Vire. I see know what you were saying about welcoming a diversion from troubling matters. I want you to know that I, like Dannae, am at your service. I know I'm not at your 'intellectual caliber', but if I you can use my help, just call."

(23:18:47) Dannae sighs and turns to excuse herself as well with a fleeting wave to the others

(23:18:51) Travosh makes no attempt to stop her. "Just think about what I said. Remain calm."

(23:19:34) Evirea's chest heaves a breath, but she nods once at Travosh before staring directly at Timil. "You get involved, you'll likely die. Stay out of it, and stay safe." With that, she turns on her heel, and takes off.
« Last Edit: January 28, 2012, 05:50:50 pm by Mariana Xiechai »

Aramara Meibi

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #86 on: January 28, 2012, 05:36:36 pm »
here's the missing piece:

Barsidious hops up onto the balustrade and instantly he takes a loop of rope from his belt. Working rapidly, he begins to tie Finnis to the protruding structure, forst once around his torso, then once around his waist. He removes the blanket and folds this neatly.

Barsidious fixes the blanket behind Finnis' head like a malformed pillow. He smiles beneath his mask as he removes a letter and places it, rolled tightly, by the dead man's feet.

Finnis's corpse remains passive and dead.

Barsidious quickly steps back from the podium and moves towards one of the many shadowed alleyways of Hydlaa, leaving the corpse out for morbid viewing.

Finnis's corpse stands tied to the balustrade by a rope around the waist and torso. It stares blankly ahead, dried blood in the corners of it's mouth, a dagger plunged deep within its chest, blood staining the front of its shirt.

Dannae shouts: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! He's Dead... He's dead!

Dannae shouts: There's a dead xacha at the fountain!

Sesp shouts: ohhh nooooo

Eardstapa draws Wyndhover up to Dannae, stunned. "Wha -" She stares at the corpse.

Finnis really truly is dead. no kidding.

Dannae says: What happened to him... he's ..he's oh, goddess, he's permanent dead

Dannae turns to Eardstapa not wanting to look any more

Finnis's eyes seem to stare directly at dannae beneath the brim of his straw hat

Eardstapa looks at Dannae and, dismounting, approaches the corpse. She notices the note at its feet.

Dannae wraps her arms tightly around herself, "S..someone left him here like this"

Dannae says: Don't...don't touch it Eardstapa

Eardstapa picks up the note, scanning the contents with a furrowed brow. She moves to put an arm around Dannae consolingly. "By the gods, sister, how - who - wert thou first to discover - it - him?"

Dannae nods still unable to lift her head to look

Finnis's corpse doesn't mind how you refer to it. It's beyond caring.

Dannae says: I, I think so. I didn't see anyone else here

Dannae says: What kind of being would do this?

Eardstapa's face is ashen but her hands quite steady as she returns the letter to its position very carefully. "Who is this Miss Pomolle? by the gods, then the rumours are true - this is not the first...

Dannae lifts her eyes venturing another look at Finnis' body but turns away quickly with an urge to retch as she notices his eyes seemed to look at her

Dannae shakes her head, "I don't know that name"

Finnis is indeed not the first, and most likely not the last, unless something is done to stop these killings

Dannae says: Could this be a relative?

Eardstapa says: [lol - stop talking, corpse! XD]

Finnis says: [XD i'm bored]

Dannae coughs and covers her mouth stepping back further, "What did the letter say Eardstapa?"

Eardstapa's eyes narrow as she looks from the corpse to Dannae. "I heard the other victims were different races... " She shakes her head at the question, "Dannae, it is some manner of taunt, addressed to a Miss Pomolle."

Dannae says: What..ummm, what do you mean ..others?

Eardstapa says: If the murderer wrote it ..." She shudders and continues, "... then I warrant 'tis a threat against Miss Pomolle. A death threat."

Eardstapa says: I have but lately returned from the Far Ground, to news that Waesed and Celizan brought - of murders in the plaza.

Dannae says: "You don't know her either then... no, course not.... but other's here too... like...like that?" she points to the corpse, "Perma dead too?"

Dannae says: I wonder...

Dannae says: There's a klyros woman I met... she was investigating some things... maybe these killings?

Eardstapa nods grimly, her lips grown white. "So I heard. They had not seen the corpses. Oh Dannae, it seemeth ... wrong to leave him here like this, poor soul, made a grisly message." Her ears twitch. "A klyros woman? Thinkst thou that could be this Miss Pomolle?"

Finnis's straw hat bends and flutters in a strong breeze that blows across the plaza. The murtique poison coating the dagger in his chest renders its final reaction, destroying the flesh at a cellular and molecular level. His chest cavity collapses inwards first, then head and limbs, until there is nothing left but a pile of dust, drifting away in the wind, leaving behind the dagger

Dannae steels her courage and covering her mouth and nose with a cloth ventures closer then steps up next to the corpse

Eardstapa steps backwards, disgusted by the collapsing flesh and trying to avoid breathing in any vapours.
Eardstapa says: I ride to find the klyros then. And she shall have some explaining to do, for clearly she is as much involved as the killer. What beastly game they play I know not.

Dannae also steps away and nearly retches again at the transformation hearing the dagger hit the stone
Dannae says: Her name was Vire, Eardstapa... are you going to give these things to her?

Timil Deeps takes a seat.

Eardstapa wraps the dagger gingerly in a clean handkerchief and slips it into her satchel. "Aye, either to find the klyros woman, or some other who can investigate. The dagger shall be my bargaining tool. "

Dannae says: Uh, wait, that's her now
Dannae points toward Evirea

Evirea frowns. Deeply. Her eyes flit between the two, the elf and the nolrthrir, eyeing the dagger in the former's hand. "Don't tell me."

Eardstapa turns Wyndhover towards Evirea. "Miss Pomolle, I presume?"
all blessings to the assembled devotees.

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #87 on: January 28, 2012, 08:12:57 pm »
He was honestly depressed about how easy it'd been. No lying on the topic, the fact that he could simply saunter right up to the plaza with a dead and bleeding body slung over his shoulder and plant it without even the slightest amount of resistance from any bystander...

Pathetic, really.

He could hear in the distance the hammering of iron workers as he went about his task, his hands making quick work of the rope and tying it into a steady knot that would hold Finnis Shelnut upright so that he could meet onlookers with a sense of dignity. As usual, he did not bother to close those eyes, and he did not make any attempt to hide any of the atrocities the scarlet of his blood-stained shirt attested to. He wanted the people to stare fear directly in the face and cope with it as they would. He wanted them to be rooted to the ground, and to be forced to gaze upon this enigma of their own mortality, while diving into a serious session of introspective soul-searching.

For his part, he simply made his way without incident towards one of the shadowed alleyways, wedging himself easily in one of the rather uncomfortable crannies by the houses. He had a view of the plaza from this vantage, though not of the expressions his primal artwork would evoke. With a resigned sort of sigh, he leaned against the craggy wall beside him and contented himself with simply watching the events, however they should unfold. Still cloaked and cowled, he really had no reason to hide his face, already shrouded in anonymity as he was. But he hardly wanted to test his run of luck, if one could call it that. Using his gloved hand, he turned slightly in his cramped space so that he could pick away at some of the moss that had accumulated on the wall. The grim came off in miniscule tidbits, and the menial labor did something to at least keep him from going stark raving mad.

Then again, most would probably contend that he'd thrown himself headfirst and tumbling over that cliff long, long ago.

An admirable pile of ivy and green-tinted dust had accumulated between his boots by the time someone looked up at Finnis and actually realized what it was they were looking upon. Tearing his gaze away from the gray words he'd dug out of the foliage, he watched with a sense of self-satisfaction as a nolthrir found his humble gift to Hydlaa, and began to scream as such a situation would merit. It did not take long for this racket she raised to summon another woman, a dermorian if he could deduce accurately without being able to see the finger details of her pointed ears. They spoke in animated whispers, their hands flying, and of course he could not actually make out a single utterance. He did, however, like to think that he felt their coming panic as one feels a gentle, friendly breeze, infecting the air with the intricate strands of terror and fright.

It did not take long for his precious corpse to disintegrate. He waited until the body could fully dematerialize, and then, summoning a strong and steady current of wind, he brought what remained: the fleshy powdery tidbits that his employer was so eager to get his hands on, over towards himself. Forming into a pointed spiral, he opened a small leather pouch for the contents to fall in to, and then canceled the spell suspending the ashy substance in the air. It fell down in a collective, dusty thump, some of the white powder making a soft puff as though the bag was breathing. Tying this tightly shut, Barsidious tucked it safely away for future delivery, and turned delighted eyes back to the scene as a familiar klyros finally made her appearance.

Oh, how he wished he could see the look on her face as she read the letter. His heart burned with longing as he watched her stand there, though he had no way of knowing the impact just yet. She was immobile and lifeless as any dead body, except that she stood upright on stiffened legs. Her wings were drooping, he could see that much at least and revel in it, enjoying the sight further as she slowly sunk down to her knees in defeat.

Do you feel that, my lovely Miss Pomolle? Do you feel that fear and despair, feel it clawing at you with relentless fervor? You were ruffled before, but you're frightened now, I can almost feel that fear upon my tongue. Taste it, and the flavor is heavenly. Embrace that fear, let the first cracks and fissures of your mind take hold, allow them to plague you body and soul.

They were trying to comfort her, two nolthrir that he could see and another klyros, male if he could tell the bloody difference. Come to think of it he'd seen that one before. Have to make note of that, he surmised. Have to keep an eye out for that.

After some lengthy discussion between those in that sparse group, he watched, giddy, as Evirea stood up and bounded off, fleeing from aid as he was assured she eventually would. But what happened next he had not expected, and it left him entirely breathless.

She made a bee-line straight towards him. Unintentional to be certain, she had no way of knowing about his presence. He was well hidden from her, even as she turned and used the same small space as her own sanctuary. Balanced with his legs between the wooden overhang and the wall between, he observed her with morbid curiosity, watching this unraveling that he had caused. That he was certain would follow.

But she did not fall apart. Quite the contrary, she seemed collected. Seemed being the important variable here, as she sat herself down and placed her hands on her knees. And she feel silent, her breathing steady. It took only a moment for him to figure out that she was attempting to meditate herself into a trace. To figure out that she had in fact been successful.

She was now as good as asleep. Asleep, and completely vulnerable to him, sitting right there where all he had to do was give the slightest nudge, and he'd be inside her thoughts, that subtle whisper that preludes the coming of a nightmare.

A smile crept along and cracked the Ylians face, and his fingers began to emit the softest Azure glow...

Mariana Xiechai

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #88 on: January 29, 2012, 05:35:22 am »
[WARNING. THIS ENTRY CONTAINS SOME FAIRLY GRAPHIC CONTENT. If violence in any way offends or disturbs you, I advise you not to read any further.]

Peace. Tranquility. All the things that told of a stable mind. She allowed herself to fall into a deep meditation, and to let those words which burned in the back of her mind disappear. Their limps lop't off, the note had said. Simple words, and funny, if you were into macabre humor. Not so funny when you were the one to personally witness the slaughter, and when you yourself recognized and loved those gore-smeared faces.

Banishing that from her mind, she settled herself into a trance. There were trees, reacting to a pleasantly warm breeze that toyed at their leafy branches. Their rustling was like a warm balm to her soul, and she opened her eyes to smile at the crystal-clear surface of the water in front of her. A tiny, delightfully clean pond reflected the canopy above, where the flit of birds could be detected by the flashes of vibrant color. Lapping at the surface in steady and measured waves, Evirea counted the quiet sounds the water made against the shore, standing up and in her own mind's eye moving towards it. Looking down, she found her own placid face staring back at her, and her erratic heartbeat slowed in time with her measured breathing. She felt the tension flee from her shoulders, the tightened knots loosening to a much more comfortable state, and a tangible smile appeared on her face as she continued the practice of settling her troubled thoughts.

She was about to dip a single claw into the water to create a nice little ripple, when the surface began to change. It grew cloudy and dark. Blackness shifted beneath the water, and her own reflection shifted from showing her face to that of another, familiar woman. Decapitated. Floating disembodied and staring at her with the blood dripping down from her neck. The water began to bubble as if heated, but the air around her grew cold, a chill that dug its claws right down into her bones. She felt a horrible sense of duality, between trying to grasp that the situation was out of hand and that she should remain calm, and the other part of her that screamed in horror at this sight of her long dead mother.

Something is wrong. This is wrong. Focus. Remain calm. Do not panic...

Turning away from the image, she observed casually that the rest of her surroundings had darkened as well. The tree's leaves had fallen off, leaving their branches as bones stretched up against a black and inky sky. The creatures that had inhabited them moments ago lay upon the ground at her feet, peppering the grass and filling the air with the stench of decay, their flesh covered in boils and infected lesions. Tugging a cloth from her pocket, Evirea reacted to this merely by covering her nose to relieve the smell, and to keep it from layering her nostrils and further disorienting her.

Moving towards one of the corpses left on the forest's floor, she was about to stoop to examine it when movement caught her eye. She turned just in time to see the water rise up out of the pond in the form of a hand, fingers spread, moving towards her rapidly and colliding with her to form a fist around her fragile body. It chocked the breath out of her as it soaked through her clothing, and without the ground beneath her feet to hold her stable, she felt the vestiges of panic begin to win the battle. The surface of the pond, and the image of her mother's face came flying up to meet her even as she was forcibly pulled down into it. As if passing through a barrier, she fell, the water filling her lungs so that she was certain she would drown even as her head began to feel crushed by the incredible pressure.

And just as she thought she would die from either a bursting of her ribs or her skull, suddenly she broke through the other side, followed by the cascade of polluted water all around her, flooding the grass below her hands. It took a moment for her to actually be able to raise her head because of the torrent, and to blink the water from her eyes. Coughing harshly, she ejected the water from her lungs and took several ragged, frantic breaths. She recovered slowly by moving first her fingers, and then her feet, finally unfurling and furling her wings to make sure that none of the tiny, delicate bones had been broken.

Rising to her feet, she tried to gain a grip. Tried to force herself to live out this strange dream, knowing that her presence was not corporeal, and that in no way could she possibly harm herself in experiencing it. Besides, perhaps it would reveal something, her subconscious trying to tell her something that the higher workings of her brain had not yet comprehended...

Oh gods.

Like a flower wilting under the rays of a harsh sun, all of her careful deliberating and confidence simply shattered. It was all she could do to keep from hyperventilating as she stared at the tiny, humble cottage in front of her.

Oh gods, no no. Get me out of here. Get me...

Her feet began moving. She wasn't telling them to. The autonomic parts of her brain stem had not sent signals, triggered by desires residing in her cerebral cortex, to move forward. But she was moving forward, her limbs shifting lazily, and she felt her lips pucker and heard the sound of her own whistling ringing in the air, cheery and joyous at having been dismissed from classes early due to her studious habits.

She wasn't being forced back into these shoes. She was reliving it, in every excruciating little detail.

The door to the house was ajar, the darkness beyond speaking of hidden things. Horrible things that she could not see in the half light. Blissfully and blessedly unaware...except that she was all too aware. She was so aware of what lay beyond that door, and she didn't want to see it. The idea of plunging her claws into her eyes and wrenching them out of her sockets presented itself as a better alternative. Instead, she attempted to drive those claws into the archway, letting splinters dig into her skin and feeling the blood trickle beneath her nails.

Her legs kept moving, and the force they could produce greatly outdid what her arms could do. Her claws scratched at the wood, leaving thin, pale lines in her wake as she continued to fight this coming vision. A sob bubbled up in her throat, but no tears were produced, and her fingers were torn forcefully from their residence in the paneling. Her hand shifted to the lamp upon the wall, and she reached with the other to grapple desperately at her wrist, trying in vain to pull it away before a light could be struck.

“No!” She shrieked, planting her feet and wrenching backwards with all her might. “Not the light! Don't turn on the light! Don't turn on...”

That traitorous wick burst into a lively flame, spilling the small interior with a golden, warm sort of glow. It illuminated the remains she was expecting, and for the first time she was aware of the wet feeling beneath her boots, sloshing, staining them. Her hands trembled, and her eyes stared widely at the wall.

Don't turn around. Don't look. Don't look Don't look Don't...

She whirled, the motion forced upon her. And she was forced to stare directly at them, sprawled all across the floor, floating in their own scarlet blood. She could not close her eyes. She tried, but something held her lids back, pinned them that way so that she could not even allow herself such a small mercy.

Their limbs were scattered every which way. Only their torsos were left intact, the rest had been severed and duly cauterized, but not before they were exsanguinated fully, leaving their once blue skin ashy and pale. Bright white eyes, just like her own, stared at her from opposite corners of the room, a length of rope fastened to a hook that pierced through their headfins and left them hanging suspended before her. She could taste the blood on her tongue, coppery and salty, as she took in large open-mouthed gulps of air, trying to gain a grip on the situation, trying to recover enough to either flee or fight, trying to break this down into a formulated equation she could solve and understand with ease.

Instead, her eyes fell to the letters written in sanguine ink, caked and dried to the wall. She remembered what they should have said. Originally the words had read, Regards, the Butcher. Simple. Short and concise. The writing had been etched with a shaking manic hand and hardly legible.

But now it was written in a looping cursive, illustrated with beautiful flourishes. The message was longer, wordier, and had an air of comedy to it that stood out starkly amidst the nightmarish scenery.

Not to worry Miss Pomolle.
I know the state of your tortured soul.
Soon your anguished life shall end.
I promise this to you my friend.
Very soon you shall all meet.
Your family you shall once more greet.
I shall steal away your very breath.
I shall aid you in meeting death.
And as my poison takes its course.
You shall no longer have remorse.


She hadn't realized she was screaming until the raw sensation in her throat alerted her to it. Her mouth hung loosely ajar and the high-pitched sound rang in her ears, echoed off the walls, and further scattered her thoughts until all traces of logic and practicality was evicted from her. And she simply kept screaming, the words glowing fiery red in her vision, prompting her terror to grow and grow and grow until she thought she might implode from the sheer...

Jerking awake with the sound of her own shouting, Evirea smacked her head into the stone wall in front of her. The blessed pain that followed assured her of two things: one, that she was alive, and two, that she had escaped from the morbid dream. Or memory. Frankly it had felt like a combination of both, but the words from it were what stuck most, even as her scrambled thoughts recollected themselves. As she realized what they were, she quickly made a terrible deduction, and instantly she was on her feet and running out of the alleyway as though someone had lit a fire beneath her heels.

Those words hadn't been concocted by herself. They had been planted there as a message. The killer wasn't just close, he was upon her, ready to sink his teeth into her flesh and tear her apart. As it was, she was helpless and vulnerable.

She could no longer be left alone.




« Last Edit: January 30, 2012, 03:35:48 pm by Mariana Xiechai »

Phantomboy86

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Re: Seeking of the Butcher
« Reply #89 on: January 29, 2012, 05:57:55 am »
*Travosh whiteknights