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If that's what you want to do, Kalamadea. Personally, however, I would just focus on Cole's introduction first. So our first impression of Cole doesn't simply consist of his first impression of everyone else. We've still got a bit of time so feel free to have Cole be doing whatever it is Cole would normally be doing at a festival such as this.
“Felicia,” she responded (almost curtly), “Felicia Wolfsfield.”
Hesitation preceded her answer, unsure of whether or not she wanted the strange man knowing her name. She hoped, at the very least, this would be the end of his overly passionate nicknames. Mon cherie… Lover… Pretty Mama…. She inwardly cringed. Yes, she was grateful to get this name business sorted out.
“And I’m afraid I never caught your name either?” she added politely, cautiously extending her hand for a friendly handshake. (Emphasis on the friendly).
As Jira introduced himself, Felicia inevitably heard the clambering of Maryev as he came up the graveyard path. Feeling neither confident in Jira nor the woman (whose features seemed oddly foreign), Felicia kept her concerns to herself as he approached and simply stood off to the side amidst the graves. She could feel his eyes on her and the others and scratched her shoulder out of nervous habit. She glanced down at the caramel apple in her hands as if it might tell her more about what the heck was going on. Such puerile fantasies proving fruitless, she resigned to stand and wait patiently—and most importantly quietly-- until things started to make sense. What else had she to do on such a holiday as this anyway? This was a day for family and fun; a day for spending more money than you meant to without regretting it the next day; and a day to leave sorrow at home and throw caution to the wind (something entirely too impossible for Felicia).
She concerned herself with the candied apple once again, smoothing out the nicks until the surface was smooth as a sin.
“What kind of drawing would you want, and how much are you willing to pay?”
The woman’s smile widened. “It’s just a family portrait,” she replied, much to Nil’s relief to be sure, “To celebrate the season, y’know? We’d be willin’ to pay you a purple up front—“
“Moma!” a tall and gangly young man that reeked of manure and compost appeared from the passing crowd. He stepped into the alleyway and tapped her shoulder hurriedly, “Have you seen Lil’ Porky? He ran off someplace.”
The woman’s smile started to crack. “No, honey,” she flinched, irritated, “I haven’t. And didn’t I say not to bother me today?”
“Are you sure?” the man continued, pushing back his disheveled brown hair with a muddy-gloved hand and ignoring her question, “I gotta find’im, Moma! He’s all alone!”
“I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOUR DAMNED PIG IS, TONY,” the woman’s tone and countenance changed so suddenly a small group of nearby birds jumped clumsily into air—knocking into each other in their startled scramble to fly away.
The young man barely quailed, no doubt used to such theatrics. His neck remained turned as he desperately searched the crowd for his precious Lil’ Porky. “Alright, fine. Dinny you’re no help, Moma.” And with that he was gone and the woman’s composure was right back to the way it was.
“Name’s Yolanda,” she nodded, “We’re meetin’ up at the graveyard. Not ‘cause we’re weird or anythin’, but it’s a lot less crowded there, you know? The artist we hired before hand up and flaked out on us so I was lookin’ for one. You’re way better than any of those goons I seen so far though, sweetheart. Oh-- and don't worry. My son-in-law won't be there and the rest of the family smells almost as good as me." As she spoke she leaned herself in close and smiled-- inviting him to breath in the subtly pleasant scent of her flowery jasmine perfume. She again laughed as she leaned back and invited him to walk with her.
Hesitation preceded her answer, unsure of whether or not she wanted the strange man knowing her name. She hoped, at the very least, this would be the end of his overly passionate nicknames. Mon cherie… Lover… Pretty Mama…. She inwardly cringed. Yes, she was grateful to get this name business sorted out.
“And I’m afraid I never caught your name either?” she added politely, cautiously extending her hand for a friendly handshake. (Emphasis on the friendly).
As Jira introduced himself, Felicia inevitably heard the clambering of Maryev as he came up the graveyard path. Feeling neither confident in Jira nor the woman (whose features seemed oddly foreign), Felicia kept her concerns to herself as he approached and simply stood off to the side amidst the graves. She could feel his eyes on her and the others and scratched her shoulder out of nervous habit. She glanced down at the caramel apple in her hands as if it might tell her more about what the heck was going on. Such puerile fantasies proving fruitless, she resigned to stand and wait patiently—and most importantly quietly-- until things started to make sense. What else had she to do on such a holiday as this anyway? This was a day for family and fun; a day for spending more money than you meant to without regretting it the next day; and a day to leave sorrow at home and throw caution to the wind (something entirely too impossible for Felicia).
She concerned herself with the candied apple once again, smoothing out the nicks until the surface was smooth as a sin.
“What kind of drawing would you want, and how much are you willing to pay?”
The woman’s smile widened. “It’s just a family portrait,” she replied, much to Nil’s relief to be sure, “To celebrate the season, y’know? We’d be willin’ to pay you a purple up front—“
“Moma!” a tall and gangly young man that reeked of manure and compost appeared from the passing crowd. He stepped into the alleyway and tapped her shoulder hurriedly, “Have you seen Lil’ Porky? He ran off someplace.”
The woman’s smile started to crack. “No, honey,” she flinched, irritated, “I haven’t. And didn’t I say not to bother me today?”
“Are you sure?” the man continued, pushing back his disheveled brown hair with a muddy-gloved hand and ignoring her question, “I gotta find’im, Moma! He’s all alone!”
“I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOUR DAMNED PIG IS, TONY,” the woman’s tone and countenance changed so suddenly a small group of nearby birds jumped clumsily into air—knocking into each other in their startled scramble to fly away.
The young man barely quailed, no doubt used to such theatrics. His neck remained turned as he desperately searched the crowd for his precious Lil’ Porky. “Alright, fine. Dinny you’re no help, Moma.” And with that he was gone and the woman’s composure was right back to the way it was.
“Name’s Yolanda,” she nodded, “We’re meetin’ up at the graveyard. Not ‘cause we’re weird or anythin’, but it’s a lot less crowded there, you know? The artist we hired before hand up and flaked out on us so I was lookin’ for one. You’re way better than any of those goons I seen so far though, sweetheart. Oh-- and don't worry. My son-in-law won't be there and the rest of the family smells almost as good as me." As she spoke she leaned herself in close and smiled-- inviting him to breath in the subtly pleasant scent of her flowery jasmine perfume. She again laughed as she leaned back and invited him to walk with her.
With Magus it mostly seems funny to me that he had no problem walking the streets freely beforehand-- even stopping to chat with Mila. He knew exactly who the girl was, where her stall was and had prior associations with her. Yet he sent Vei out to look for her-- which is kind of like finding a specific piece of hay in a haystack considering all the children wearing green and running around dressed like Kokiri. Do you not agree? I'm not arguing with the reasons he gave Lethe because I found them perfectly sensible, but as a person I found it a bit inconsistent and simply didn't anticipate his decision. That's all I'm saying.
As it is now, however, we should be nearing the end of the gathering anyway and Lethe will finally get her chance to properly explain herself to everyone.
GuySenpai, it's alright if you want Angus to visit the graveyard in order to speed things up.
As it is now, however, we should be nearing the end of the gathering anyway and Lethe will finally get her chance to properly explain herself to everyone.
GuySenpai, it's alright if you want Angus to visit the graveyard in order to speed things up.
Lethe doesn't have that ability. Her voice isn't the one speaking to the characters in their dreams. Lethe is currently out finding the other people. She mentioned there would be more. I'll spoil it a little for you if it'll help ease your worries: The woman speaking to Nil is one of the others. She's also helping gather people at Lethe's request.
I had hoped Magus and Frore would help with the search in some way, but since that isn't the case it's a bit of a scramble right now. Jira ditching Felica so quickly was something I hadn't anticipated as well-- it would have been far easier for Cain to direct them both to the graveyard while they were in the same room. I'm banking on every player's tendency to have their characters meet up and interact with other player characters. Thus finding people individually would be less common. (Obviously that's not the case with Nil and, to an extent, Maryev--but that's totally fine.) Naklov, Kaiver, and Mila are all bunched together however. As are Ekra and Angus for the time being.
And don't worry too much about what's going to happen once everyone is at the shadow temple. I have something in store.
I had hoped Magus and Frore would help with the search in some way, but since that isn't the case it's a bit of a scramble right now. Jira ditching Felica so quickly was something I hadn't anticipated as well-- it would have been far easier for Cain to direct them both to the graveyard while they were in the same room. I'm banking on every player's tendency to have their characters meet up and interact with other player characters. Thus finding people individually would be less common. (Obviously that's not the case with Nil and, to an extent, Maryev--but that's totally fine.) Naklov, Kaiver, and Mila are all bunched together however. As are Ekra and Angus for the time being.
And don't worry too much about what's going to happen once everyone is at the shadow temple. I have something in store.
Right, but I don't recall him saying they were going to the graveyard. It's kind of unlikely they'd know to search Madame Astrid's place....
Kaiver, Elder Lyotus, Mila (I'll be puppeting her for the time being), Angus, Ekra, Nil, Cole if/when Kalamadea posts and Ketalia if/when Mercury posts.
Magus in the back. Jira, Frore, Felicia, and Cain near the front.
The sound of lute strings being plucked greeted her as the cemetery came into sight. Felicia looked over the many graves—their long shadows reaching out to her. She thought of Cain and wondered if he could be hiding in any of them. Focusing more on Jira, she noticed that the pale hungry woman she’d seen in passing at the well was there… and that Jira’s lute playing... needed work. Her eyes flickered to the shady back of the graveyard—she thought she’d seen a figure lurking in the shadows, but she merely sighed and shook her head. The Shadow Temple had a way of messing with your head and tricking your eyes. She’d concluded long ago that the place was sentient and reveled in watching people racked with pain and sorrow—thus why it overlooked the cemetery.
With an uneager sigh she stepped near Jira. ’How can you be practicing your lute at a time like this?’ she wanted to say, but opted for something politer instead; as was her nature. She cleared her throat, hoping he would cease playing long enough for her to ask him, “So... uhm. What's going on? This is where we meet?"
She didn't know what else to say as she looked between the masked man and the pale woman.
With an uneager sigh she stepped near Jira. ’How can you be practicing your lute at a time like this?’ she wanted to say, but opted for something politer instead; as was her nature. She cleared her throat, hoping he would cease playing long enough for her to ask him, “So... uhm. What's going on? This is where we meet?"
She didn't know what else to say as she looked between the masked man and the pale woman.
Alright, Lug. Will do.
Kalamadea, that's fine.
Kalamadea, that's fine.
The silhouette of a feminine individual cast itself over Nil’s sketchbook.
“Wowza, you’re really good, sweetheart,” a lush woman’s voice observed, “How long have you been drawin’? I’d pay some good money for a portrait."
Taking his eyes off the paper, Nil would find himself in the presence of a woman with lightly tanned skin and beautifully voluminous, flowing shoulder-length dark brown hair. Her sharp hazel eyes were heavily outlined to exaggerate her prominent, almond shaped eyes and long eyelashes. They stared intently at Nil, sweeping hungrily over his features. She wore a lipstick that was a shameless shade of red and large, bangle-sized silver earrings on her slightly pointed ears. Her features were soft yet defined with high cheekbones, high arching eyebrows, and full lips.
On her body she wore a skin tight off-white blouse with a deep green silk scarf and a matching gypsy skirt—very much in the holiday spirit. She was shapely and well endowed—baring the body and features of a fully matured woman; undeniably beautiful, if a little over-the-top. The silver bracelets around her wrist released a musical sound as she pointed to his sketch pad.
"Do you do nudes?" she asked, smiling amusingly and placing her opposite hand on the exposed cleavage of her right breast. She laughed as his face changed, tossing her hair over her shoulders.
"I'm only kiddin', sweetheart. But it's true I am lookin' for an artist wit' your kinda skills if you're interested. I can pay ya handsomely for it, too."
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