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Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

My next post will likely be a little late, as this week is quite important for me. Thank you for understanding.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Morgaine stepped back in shock as Dietrich opened up the cane into its whip form, caught dumb as he whirled the loose blade around before returning it to his original state, and all with his left hand besides. Obviously, the man had notable expertise in the craft of beast hunting. The cane arced majestically, twirling like a dancer's soul. Morgaine knew one some primal level that the cane was meant for her. It looked so intuitive, now thinking about it. She could learn to pick up this whip thing. It certainly looked more manageable than the other objects on display. Was it even humanly possible for her to lift that huge hammer, or that sword the length of her entire body? Her hands idly played with the cloth uniform, smooth as silk but somehow incredibly heavy like hardened leather. Could a beast even pierce it with its claws? That was likely, she supposed. A beast's claws could rend armour like paper, after all.

“As intriguing as spending the night with you sounds . . ." well, he was a charmer after all! Morgaine glanced up at his eyes, noting their constancy. He was an inscrutable man, no doubt about it. His eyes guarded his intentions dutifully. Did he even have a soul behind them? His main hand gripped his weapon tightly, as if the two were fused together into a single body. Maybe it was the case; he couldn't drop the weapon if he wanted to. That would make some activities . . . decidedly awkward. She bit her own tongue, wincing but not yelping. Hardly the time nor place.

"Immortal? Me?" Morgaine said with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't help bark a laugh at his last comment. "Well, I haven't died yet."

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Sorry; it totally slipped my mind until today. I'll try to be more punctual in the future.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

"That's right," Morgaine said, eyeing up the weapons with a curious eye. "Your man there, he picked us up. A couple of others too, but we can't say where they've gone. Must've just wandered off to somewhere we couldn't follow or . . s" she trailed off at the end. There were certainly a variety of weapons. Huge heavy swords like the one Victor's got, and massive hammers cut from stone, and that spear the other churchman was holding before he died. "You don't mind if I-" she said, reaching out and pulling a modest looking thing from the box. It slid out with a hiss of metal on metal, revealing a sort of walking cane with a sharpened edge. Almost a sword in disguise, by the feel of it. "Err, I suppose there's space." She took a few experimental swings at the empty air, getting a feel for the weight. This wasn't a harvesting scythe by any measure, nor a wooden club with which to chase foxes. This was a proper weapon, made to draw blood and kill. She obviously demonstrated little knowledge in its application. "Sorry . . . it's the being a hunter. New to all this, you see." She set the weapon down on the table sheepishly, before returning to the piles of clothes.

"I don't suppose the two of you gentlemen would know where someone is to get a bit of privacy," Morgaine said, finally settling on a set of clothes. It was certainly the widest option she'd seen from here, a bit more so in the shoulders than the waistline. These Yharnamites, they must worship the slender physique, but this one'll do, at least far more than any of the others. "Am I supposed to be following you about now, Sir Dietrich?" Not the worst way to spend her night, if she discovers she has the stomach for the spilling of blood. "Or would you have me stay with your lad?" She made a head gesture to Victor, her hands occupied by the clothing.

A kings' political marriage plan- closed

Me too.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

@Dark Jack Perhaps we should collab on a Google Doc form, seeing as how Morgaine and Dietrich are to have a dialogue? Or do you prefer we send short responses back and forth?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

"I call me Morgaine, sir of the Church," Morgaine responded, mimicking his bow with one of her own and grinning widely up at him. "I suppose I'm a hunter now, as you. As 'First Hunter', would that make you my chief?" Victor was right about him, she had to admit. He didn't wear the hooded robe of the other churchmen, instead dressing in a sort of military-esque uniform, glistening with silk and silver, his shoulders looking for all the world like they've a pair of feathery wings hanging off them. What a sight he was, a nobleman among his peasants. This Dietrich did have a bonny look about him, a fine mix of chivalrous and roguish that Morgaine must admit caught her eye rather well. Did these churchmen swear themselves to asceticism? An impious thing to consider, she admitted.

"I suppose that means I'm to be having one of these," she said, gesturing to the pile of Church uniforms. None of them looked likely to fit her snug and proper. They were all woven with Yharnamites in mind, tall and lanky as strings. The men of this city shoot straight up from the ground towards the sky, with hardly enough room side to side as to keep them from swaying in the breeze. It's no wonder the entire city was built to match. She strode purposefully over to it to consider them closer, pulling one out that looked almost right, turning it this way and that, and setting it back down with a huff. "Perhaps later, then," she muttered to herself.

A kings' political marriage plan- closed

Vyarin continued to wander about the fringes of the party. Occasional snippets of conversation he would catch, then repeat to himself when he was out of their earshot. Always practice, practice, and eventually maybe he'll be the one speaking Apura and a foreigner would be parroting him. He didn't have the heart to ask any of the ladies to dance. Vyarin was a fortified man in his body and his mind, shying nothing from a bout nor a battlefield. Yet, this bravery of the court he found he was completely devoid of.

Eventually he found himself hugging the wall, looking out a window at the now-setting sun. Where were his loyal men? Perhaps in the town, causing who knows what sorts of trouble. One can never say with soldiers, even those reputed to be disciplined. It was a town, it must have some unsavoury pastimes that any man might fall into. And what of the danger? Two unexplainable events had befallen this hall today alone. What would tomorrow bring? Only the sun knows, as it descends past the quaint rolling hills following along the horizon.

A kings' political marriage plan- closed

Ach, I'd write something but I feel kinda stuck.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

I'm ready to progress please