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Anyone can sorta attempt to interact with Annalise, if so desired. Success will vary.

Too many noises. Too many smells. Too many opportunities. Annalise Xing “salivated” over the astounding scores of gears that just existed in the area directly before her. Dozens of targets, as lost in their own conversations; wearing her meal of choice. However, as an ambush predator and a dungeon specialist, Annalise didn’t have the skills required to take over a room full of people in grand combat... at least, not without wasting her reserves and endangering her meals. It had taken far too long to reach this location, and her reserves were lower than she liked -- for a human, it was equivalent to not eating for a week.

Even still, it was tempting... ‘Focus. Focus. Repairs. Prey always speak of repairing.’ Annalise recalled, as she hid herself out of sight; preparing her ambush, her attack. ‘Repair needs Food. Prey must have a... a... a Forge, Prey calls it.’ she thought. ‘Still, I can’t... walk in. Prey would attack Predator without thought. I must disguise myself.’ she decided, as her Reflection Core started to shine, as if polished, ‘Prey trust Prey.’ Annalise writhed for a moment, as she silently retched, and her throat stretched, as her jaw unhinged. From her mouth, a cobalt-hued gauntlet emerged, and dropped into her awaiting hands.

Piece by piece, she regurgitated a suit of armor; bulky from top to bottom, hued in glorious cobalt, beset with gems of ruby and emerald; it radiated power of old strength and ancient magic. Screwing up her eyes, she vomited a double-sided, warhammer with a head near the size of a house door; wrapped with rings of gold, silver, and platinum, and beset with sapphires and onyx stone. Silently panting, Annalise assembled the armor, and liquefied herself to embody it.

Rising to a titanic height of ten-feet, Annalise reached down, and took the hammer into her armored hand. ‘I only have a few minutes. This disguise won’t last long.’ Measured, almost cautiously so, Annalise walked back to the hall, and entered the mess hall proper. Through the room, she marched with a nearly a century’s worth of combat experience, and cast an aura of untouchable existence. It was all she could do, in order to avoid undesired contact, as she only sought out the kitchen -- or, rather, the forge. Her eyes surveyed a host of creatures she recognized from her dungeon life, as well as her benefactor; to whom she walked.

Hail... no, Hark... no, Never mind...” Annalise mumbled to herself. “I have answered your summon, Leader of this Guild,” she says, voice muffled and bass-boosted to the nines, “I require use of your kitch – your forge.

Marshall shook himself off, pulling fragments of ship and metalwork from his back -- a particularly twisted shard from his spine. After 1,904 years of existence, he’d come to familiar terms with all the forms of pain that a man could suffer upon himself -- those terms, however, weren’t those of friendly ones. Pain still hurt, and hurt jarred nerves, and his jarred towards anger at whatever was around him. His pain was suffering, his suffering was unjust, and if he were to suffer, so, too, would everyone else.

However, his eyes cast down upon only two things: the man of mushroom, and a jostled child with a field kit and no clear experience in what she held. A surgeon’s daughter, perhaps? It was clear, she was no child of mushroom nor the forest -- her form too human to be Fauna or Faerie; her stance too loose to be Fungi; her speech to flexible to be Nature-tongued. Another thing was plainly clear, as well: she was far too innocent to have his anger directed at her. To do so would have be to commit an act that was truly unjust.

Defeated, abjectly, Marshall pulled out the last piece of offending metal, and sad down. “Medical work, child,” he asks, tone gruff and off-putting, “if I’m not mistaken, is the purpose of that kit you’re holding,” he pointed to it with his armor-clad arm, “or, am I mistaken, and it’s just decoration for a child pretending?” Inwardly, Marshall sighed, ‘That was mean. I’m being callous to a child. Astrals preserve me, I hate this slow healing...

Looking up, Marshall sighed outwardly, and raised his hand. “Come hither, child. A name, perhaps? Mine is Marshall, for now,” he offers, “A long time ago, it was Kyne, before that, Hunter, and, before that, Bartholomew,” Marshall chuckled, spiritedly, against the pain and himself, “Admittedly, that wasn’t my favorite. Now, pray tell, yours?

@The Irish Tree

Sure, I'll just write my new post to act with the retcon of the scene, and, like Marvel, we do it.
@Enkryption@The Irish Tree

Im sorry folks, But yeah, I'm in a process to leave the site for good so I'm stepping away from the majority of RPs I'm in.

Im moving into a house, and have to focus on getting a side business set up. It saps all of my time and motivation. My apologies for this.

You do what you gotta do, man. Nothing held against ya. Just take it easy, and good luck on your side biz.

Okay, those points make sense. I'll write you in on the next update.

<Snipped quote by Enkryption>

So that either means that the objects she creates fall apart as soon as they are created (since they are in close proximity of Annalise) or they must be taken away from her before they fall apart. Am I getting this right?

Well anyway, for practical purposes of this RP, whatever Annalise 'creates' will probably last until the RP ends.

<Snipped quote by Enkryption>

If she needs to eat everyday (or even every week/month) then it's going to make a dent on the guild's coffers. Which will likely cause (IC) drama.

With that in mind, don't you think Bart will kick Annalise out once she starts feasting on the guild's gold since gear won't always be present for Annalise to eat?

I'm just repeating myself, at this point, buy, I'm also trying to make this work, so I'll just try this:

Annalise eats an item, say an Enchanted Iron Dagger +2, and that EXACT item's "existence" is imprinted in her Reflection Core FOREVER (or until she dies), and she can barf up an EXACT REPLICA of that Enchanted Iron Dagger +2. Said replica creates an unique anomaly by existing as a replication of a reflection of the existence of the original item, and is eventually erased from existence to remove the anomaly.

The weaker the item is, or the more mundane it is, the longer this erasure takes. The dagger might take a day, being enchanted and all, but, something like an artifact, or something incredibly strong, wouldn't last more than an hour. However, it can be remade ad infinitum, so having items last forever, in general, is a less than good thing.

As for eating, if there's a forge, then there's probably raw metal lying around that can be forged into literally anything, and that's a like making a meal in the kitchen.

It's fine. Just checking in. I don't wanna move without giving you a chance to respond, is all.

Not to rush, but, I'm still waitin' on Poxanne, so I can post for Marshall; whether or not, you actually intend to stab him in the gut or not.

Oh, I thought she actually turns herself or her body parts into weapons. But she can do that, no?

Also, how can the 'created' item be in the presence of the original if the original has been consumed by Annalise?

Just pointing these minor things out, Annalise is good to go although I hope she doesn't consume the guild's gold.

Nope. Short Verison, Annalise is a walking Blacksmith shop.

Annalise could, potentially, become too strong, if she could just turn her phsyical form into weapons and armor on the fly. Her understanding comes from Mimics, which she's based herself off; she creates something to be taken -- bait -- and waits for someone to try and take it -- prey -- upon which she attacks and gets her meal or has to retreat into the dungeon.

However, after so many years of experience, she is omniproficient, so she can switch from weapon to weapon, as fast as she can make them, and she can cling armor to her slime. She still has to make it, though, for all she knows is that Mimic items come from their mouth, so hers should too.

As for the original item, that comes from the religion of Animism, in which everything has its own unique spirit, and nothing can ever share it. Annalise doesn't destroy this spirit, but keeps it in her Reflection Core, where it can be drawn on forever; so, the original item that she's creating is always there, merely by her very presence.

And, gold coin is actually safer around her than you think. The metal is so refined, she can't eat more than five or ten before getting full. It would take years to eat a well-stocked coffer, but, as soon as she finds it, that's where her bedroom will be set up. So, everyone better mind the chests in there. XD
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