bloonewb

🎀 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓻 . 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 . 𝓚𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 . 𝓜𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 . (a steampunk RP of petticoats, poison, and propriety)

Elodie glanced down at the paper in her hand, clutched so tightly it threatens to tear. If she didn't check it every five minutes or so, who knows where it could disappear off to? Yes, this was the place. Smack in the middle of the cramped city, tucked away in one of the constricted quarters, right around one of the labyrinthine streets. This had better be the place . . .

No, she'd taken one wrong turn to many. Of course she did. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Every turn was the wrong turn in this hellish place. Which street was which? Where do they lead? The moment Elodie turns her back, they rearrange themselves and change directions, and then the buildings themselves inch closer together, until what's left of the space between is so constricting that her lungs simply can't absorb enough air. She was going to die here, in front of this one gated mansion among an entire street complex of gated mansions, somewhere nobody at home could find her again. What was the name of the district? Peri . . . something. Periford? Periport? More or less. Well, the first four homes she went to either had no idea what she was talking about or simply slammed the door in her face. Eventually, she'll find it. Steeling herself, she approached the door.

Yes, she was right not to second-guess herself at the last second. The doorman was eager enough to let her in, once she had proven beyond reasonable doubt that she possessed both an invitation and a mask. Quickly, she slipped it on and entered.

The library. Where was the library? Lady Rowena had said to meet her there. Her, and her friend Kingsford. She found the door quickly enough, and entered quiet as she could. There they were, chatting casual as you please. Elodie would recognize the woman anywhere, even with the mask. But how was she supposed to approach such esteemed people? The direct way, perhaps, would not be the best. The last thing she would want is to give something away that should not have been.

"My Lady, a pleasure to see you here," Elodie said, walking up to the chatting pair and dropping to a low curtsy. Just as the school has drilled into her since she was fourteen. One foot back, knees bent, enclose hand into fist optional. "I do hope you are enjoying yourself as I am. I believe you had wished to continue last week's . . . conversation here?"

Magic RP (Open to new players)

"I don't know how it is with dracons, but we kobolds must always have a foot on the ground, from the mightiest chiefs to the holiest priests to the wisest scholars," Ardasa said. Her feet, in sheer excitement, tapped on the ground light as a feather, and she almost felt like skipping. "This land we walk on, the earth and the stones, are the skin and scales of the snake god, Hetuis. When a kobold dies, they are eaten by Hetuis, where they face judgement within his stomach. Were the kobold clever and virtuous in life, they are spit back out to join either Scen or Arda, of their choice. Were they not . . . poor souls." Her feet slowed to a walk. "Hetuis knows where we are and who we are by how our feet land on his back. Were a kobold to stop walking, their legs would weaken, and then cease altogether, the legs of their soul already having been presumed dead by Hetuis and taken early. Tell me, does the dracon have a similar phenomenon?"

The guards were a strange lot. They milled between each other, going up the ranks one by one until they reached Ternoc, and then went back down to the common soldier. It was like a dance, in some ways. Throughout it all, Ardasa heard not a word of whatever it is they were plotting. How much information is lost, going up through the middle officers and back down again? Could the troops be carrying out a completely different order than the one given them? Worse still, what could they be doing that required so much secrecy? Ardasa felt a now-familiar chill on her spine. Was she ever safe in this city?

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

I guess then I could make Lukas do something besides stand around looking awkward.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

@KatherinWinter I don't have much to say, and was hoping lunchtime would begin soon so I would have more material.

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

Anyone up for a collaborative post?

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

Everywhere he looked, Finn saw a glass of wine. People were sipping them, clinking them, in red, clear, and golden. He suddenly realized just how thirsty he was. Was it the dense population, or was the palace always this hot and stuffy? He looked around for someone, anyone, who seemed to have plenty and enough to part with. His prayers were answered when he spied a man dressed in a silly looking outfit, carrying around a platter of something yellowish. If fortune were to smile down at him even more, the contents would be some good Bridgemontese beer or whiskey.

"Hey! 'Scuse me!" Finn shouted, running up to the costumed man, bumping and jostling a couple of idling guests to cries of outrage. He turned, and his eyes seemed to widen at the rapidly approaching figure. Finn jogged up, breathing heavily from his parched throat. "Sorreh, Yer . . . Sir . . . ness?" he said between breaths. The man stared blankly at him for a few seconds, and answered.

"Yes . . . my lord?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I jus' happened to notice yeh . . . had a bit of the drink," Finn said. This was quickly getting awkward. "If yeh don' mind . . . could I take a drop of what yer having?"

". . . Certainly. It would be an honor . . . my lord?" he responded, once again waiting a pause or two. Was this custom here in Vertiron? The man pulled a cup from the platter and handed it to Finn, who eagerly emptied the glass in a single gulp. This nearly caused him to gag. Whatever it was, it certainly was not Bridgemontese beer! The drink was thick and sweet and cloying. It felt like drinking a cake. Still, though, it did little to satisfy his thirst.

"Could I perhaps take another, Yer Sirness?" Finn said, and the man quickly offered him another one, which met the same fate as the first. "Thank ye kindly," Finn said, setting the two cups down. The man bowed, and left quickly, probably to refresh his friends. Finn grinned at the receding figure. What a nice, generous fellow. Perhaps, he wasn't feeling so eager to return home later, he could change his course a little and pay a visit to the man's estate for a few days or so. He began to wonder about the costume, and it made him worry a bit. Was everyone supposed to have one?

Magic RP (Open to new players)

There was definitely something Ardasa liked about Ternoc. It was his propensity to talk, and his almost eager willingness to give advice. Rughoi would never admit it, but Ternoc was older, and more experienced at the helm of a nation than he. Conversation flowed easy when both sides understood the trials and troubles that came with running a state. "I would love nothing more," she said. It just became easy to let Ternoc take the lead, talking as he went of the marvels he housed as if he saw them every day, which she supposed, he did. Was it so easy, to take even a city such as this for granted? She sighed, knowing that it was. Xigyll had experienced such wondrous growth so quickly, and she just let it all pass by.

From the steps of the palace, she could see nearly the entirety of the city. It was so grand, watching the sun glinting off the spires, in patterns of blue and red and yellow. Magic was hard at work in them, sending glittering sparks through shoots that emptied out into the open air. Magic was an odd thing, and while blessed so plentifully to the dracons, was seldom something a kobold might make use of. What few wizards Xigyll had were cherished and kept safe, tasked with duties around the palace and given high positions within the temple or the auxiliary army. "So, Your Majesty. Where do you plan on leading me first?" she asked, looking down at the endlessly winding, splitting roads. Was there even a corner left unpaved?

🎀 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓻 . 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 . 𝓚𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 . 𝓜𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 . (a steampunk RP of petticoats, poison, and propriety)

@ayzrules Yeah, it's fine enough. I guess I'm the new kid on the block, then.

🎀 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓻 . 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 . 𝓚𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 . 𝓜𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 . (a steampunk RP of petticoats, poison, and propriety)

@ayzrules Yeah, you got the "endlessly obedient" thing right. I believe I was thinking at least partially about those teen movies, and how the popular girl was always being followed around by two (and ever only two) girls who didn't seem to contribute much to the story. Not saying Elodie is exactly like that, of course. Far from it. It's just something that managed to get mixed in during the thinking process.

@MorningStar1399 I dunno, I just felt for some reason like I was more out of touch than everybody else. Plus, I thought the relations sheet was supposed to be done right now.

🎀 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓻 . 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 . 𝓚𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 . 𝓜𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 . (a steampunk RP of petticoats, poison, and propriety)

@ayzrules I am not sure how my character fits into the group, and am thus having a hard time doing the relations sheet. Is it possible for us to work something out?