Assallya

Dimensional Tavern

The elven woman grimaced as the world "bent" around her, shapes elongating and swirling with the fluidity of oil being applied to a great canvas. The small, tavern grew before her eyes, its volume expanding by leaps and bounds until it resolved into something palatial. She had never seen such a hall. True, there were great halls of smooth white marble where she had come but this place was "warmer". The oaken accents, rich carpets and great candelabras were reminiscent of the northern realms though of much finer workmanship.

Then she peered down at the gown that had been fitted with. At first she attempted to disbelieve, to dispel the illusion. Nothing, of course, happened. She was, she discovered attired in some form of strange garb. It seemed like a skirt but was much wider, as if there were something ballooning it out, making her legs invisible beneath a giant sphere of fabric. The material was strange though, oddly appealing to her, black lace slipping across her form from numerous vents and slashes in her ball gown. She also had something of a collar but it was nearly eight inches tall and ornate. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see sparkling stars against the interior of the collar. Then there was something, a golden headdress with some sort of veil, or at least she assumed it was so. It was currently up at the moment, tucked away but she could lower it to shadow her face.

Mind you, what this really did to her was frighten her immensely. A being of such power could likely wipe her from existence, possibly even consume her soul. She had heard of such creatures in the deep depths of the dreaming, veritable gods that could create at will that made even the archdukes of the nine hells cautious.

"Why would one need shoes in order to dance?" Assallya answered, completely bewildered as she looked herself over.

Dimensional Tavern

Assallya had no idea what the small black and white animal was and she was about to say as such when the flightless bird was snatched away. She then watched as the small group went back to drinking. Assallya wasn't much for drinking. There were more pleasant means with which to pass the time or at least, so she opined. Though, she had determined one thing, that nobody here seemed to have any more of a clue as to the nature of this place as she did.

"Is not anyone concerned with how this place came to be or what it might cost one to partake of its many pleasures?" she whispered in conspiratorial fashion. "What if this be fey in nature? If so partaking this ale could mean one might never enjoy any other ale ever again. One thing I know. Nothing in my experience has ever been 'free'."

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

Wow. This week was worse than most. Went out on Wednesday night... then had the super long day. I was bombed Friday night. I still want to nap :)

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

Jennifer, the nurse wearing pink scrubs finished cleaning up. The bandages were disposed of and one simply couldn't tell that their patient had ever been point blank to an explosion. She'd taken care of the woman for years, washing her, feeding her through a tube, massaging muscles... She was proud of their work; "Image as Designed" couldn't have done better! Still, that explosion, Damn that woman was tough. Jennifer found herself wishing she could be so tough. Maybe if she was, if she had a little more backbone she wouldn't be stuck in this dead end job in the middle of nowhere with such frustrating hours.

Gathering up a glass of water, for their patient would likely awaken at any time now, Jennifer placed it on a tray along with a power bar. It wasn't much but until she got a change to head down to the kitchens that was all she had. Besides, the patient probably wouldn't be able to switch back to solid foods all that quickly. Walking softly, she moved towards the curtains that hid the two conspiring prisoners.

Meanwhile, the Doctor still hadn't moved. He was still standing with his back to the curtains, filling out paperwork.

"Two in here," Carlos reminded his new partner needlessly, "Two guards outside. I'll follow your lead boss."

Dimensional Tavern

Assallya didn't know what to make of this strange place. It had all the underlying context of a tavern but the trappings were only vaguely reminiscent of the concept. The door had been positioned within a wall she had been completely certain had been plain white clay the day before. Having stepped through it she was additionally certain that it was larger within than the very building the door had been placed into. This did not bode well. Turning to find the door behind her towards that long corridor having vanished there was little she could do but carry on forward into the room filled with merriment. What spirits these were she had no idea. Such realms were reserved for creatures of raw thought, pure emotion, the dead and the gods.

The elf woman stepped into the room, her bare feet making not a whisper on the wooden floor. Every moment, fearing she was going to be struck down by the gods that dwelled in such an environs her azure eyes darted from corner to corner, beneath tables, into the rafters and from face to face. Then, after several strides her demeanor changed. Her back straightened, chin lifted, gaze hardening. Within a single stride she had transformed, the frightened elf woman gone and a strong, confident goddess had taken her place. Moving like royalty she swept past the others, past the golems, past a dwarf, a dragon blooded warrior and a host of other oddities. Finally she stood before the great expansive view of the heavens and used the distraction of the slowly tumbling lights to gather her thoughts from her brief excursion through the hall.

It seemed like it was a magical painting, possibly used to foretell the fates of mortals but then there was the sill? It had all the trappings of a window and not the frame for a painting.

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

Go with what you will :) My own character won't be in the prison.

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

Stilwater penitentiary, located on a remote island away from Stilwater proper, was a formidable fortress of a prison. The crumbling concrete was old, grey and eroded, mottled by salt water and rain over decades of service. Accessible only by helicopter or boat, the prison squatted atop the promontory it rested upon like a giant predatory insect looming over its prey, waiting as each new prisoner was delivered to it by police patrol boat. Only the tall slender lighthouse seemed to keep the insect at bay. Outside, the island seemed quiet. Only the fewest of guards patrolling the gravel road around the perimeter of the island and the one paved road from harbour to prison.

Inside, behind dozens of gates, behind hundreds of bars, lay a single form. Prostrate. It had not moved, had not stirred for many a year- and finally, after all that time, one finger twitched.

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

Rival Gangs

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

Saints Characters

Dimensional Tavern

Nah, it's not that I fear putting too much into the post. I worry about putting in something at odds to my GM's vision of the scene :) I prefer to support my GM, not pull the carpet out from under him or her.