Fairess

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

@Themerlinhawk
Thanks for patching all that up! I just want to clarify I'm not angry or personally offended--I really appreciate your understanding. I can be a bit of a stickler when it comes to rules and the like.

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

@Howlerjoking. I can barely stay on a horse. Trust me. My aunts tried. I failed

It's not actually mind reading, it's a combination of aura reading and something akin to microexpression training to the 10th power. Following up on that this guy has been Around the block and plays with kids like Solus Grim who is a god now, his reading works on all of them, Solus, Hazumi, Lucian, The Lords of Hell. That being said i hear you and im hardly about to tell you to shove it. If you'd rather I don't play up that part of the character I can respect that. The point I was trying to make, and I think I did make it, was that he has been out of the world a bit and it is Rude what when he does that and he knows it. So he usually doesnt, you'll see it fade as he gets back to being around people who aren't Shay. So I do think that addresses it since Lazarus has historically been able to read a chimera gone god, a god, multiple Lords of Hell and an of Ark angel. The keep being they all have a physical body so they play by the same rules since again. Not actually mind reading. Which is why it requires mild interaction. Sorry ^^' I'm still getting use to playing with people other than synth and wind for essence.

@Themerlinhawk

I need to be explicit: I'm not okay with this. I understand where you're coming from--yes, Lazarus is powerful and his powers of essence reading don't strictly fall under mind reading (even though they do seem to pull direct words from Jasper's thoughts if you look at our current collab). The issue isn't one of whether or not Lazarus's godlike power fits into this roleplay, rather, it's an issue that it does not respect your fellow players. As with Jasper's ability to manipulate other people, it was made explicitly clear that he needed to do so with respect (and implied permission) from other players if he attempted to have Jasper mentally manipulate a player character. According to typical thread rules, no disparity of power should neglect this rule of respect. This means that, even though Roanne would not be able to stop Jasper if he used an ability like Command on her, I still fully expect Howler to ask me if he can control Roanne and go over what will happen to her when Command is used on her. To do otherwise with Command would be stepping over my ability to react and control my character.

Lazarus responding to thoughts and impressions he takes from people, regardless of his god card to do so, is unfair in the same way. I won't suggest that you ask before mentally probing the thoughts of my character or others--I will say that you absolutely should out of respect for those you write with. I offer the same courtesy to everyone I play with and expect the same from others, because infringing on the information a character gives out and the actions they take can ruin the fun and creativity I appreciate most from those same people.

The reason I say this now is because I don't want to run into situations in the future where this becomes an issue. Every player should be able to have a say in what can and can't happen to their character regardless of mechanics.

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

xD Sorry, but 'cut' totally implies uneven, as you're leaving ruts in the wood. Especially with the whole carving metaphor. If you wanted to imply smoothness, I think what you'd want to go for is pyrography.

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

Got my two bits in, finally!

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

@Wind Wild

Gotcha! Can't wait to collab~

Wishing Star - A Frontier Adventure

“Well look at that, he was returned in one piece! I should have put money on that.” Verity casually glanced over her shoulder as yet another a bounty hunter returned with the thief in tow. She couldn’t help but smile as the man oh-so-kindly tended to the thief’s wound, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was garnering no small amount of stares from the remaining patrons. The ol’ man who’d lost his book would undoubtedly be making his way over to hand out the reward and breathe a sigh of relief.

Except, where were the rest of the bounty hunters? There were still gunshots echoing from the street, but the hoopla and bullet pangs were drifting further away—fast. Could it be that they’d all turned on each other? It wouldn’t surprise her if an accidental injury or two had turned personal. She couldn’t help it—her gaze flicked to the sheriff, wondering how the grizzled wolf felt about cleaning this mess up. Then she smiled, appreciating the catharsis of someone else’s trouble as she turned back to the barkeep and took a sip of her drink. The dark, rich bubbles of fruit and sun-ripened hops just about eliminated all traces of the struggle from her mind.

Until the barkeep had to give his two cents.

“Don’t look like th’ fella has th’ book. I reckon tha’s why he’s still alive, th’ varmint.” The barkeep shook his head, picking up a broom from behind the counter to start cleaning up the broken glass left in the wake of his patrons. His smile was missing a few teeth as he grinned at the old adventurer. “I’m holdin’ yeh responsible for this, yeh know. I ‘spect some payment for tearin’ a decent place up if yeh ken throw coin at them beasts.”

Verity smirked, turning to face the old man as well. “That was an interesting price, by the way. 150 gold for a book—250 for a girl’s dignity, though that’s beside the point—but I think you may have sold the poor dears short. If that was the genuine article, the single, original, personal diary of Alexander Jolstein, it’s worth several times that amount. But then again, it couldn’t be the real thing, right? No one would be stupid enough to grandstand the genuine article in front of a bunch of bounty hunters. So. Were you trying to expose, or better yet, kill someone?”

@Senera2000 @Lord of Evil

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

Aye! Skype works for me, too, or I ken otherwise generate a google doc for us to coordinate on.

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

<Snipped quote by Fairness>

This has to be one of my favourite quotes this season. XD

@Wind Wild

Woo! More brownie points for me!

Eugh. Unedited but at least it's up. I'll probably fix it later.

@Howler

Whatchu smokin'? That was an awesome post! Read just fine to moi. Oh! And as for the question... I also wanna see Hazumi go bonkers drunk and mess up all the essence somehow. Reminds me of this, actually.

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

Loom: Darlyn's Cafe

Day 3, Afternoon
Roanne, Tokarin, Lazarus, Zadkiel

She treated her meat well— that was the real difference between a good burger and a mediocre one. Sure, people might say it was just a slab of meat that was about to disappear down the gullet in a matter of minutes, but that wasn't how Roanne worked. Food wasn't survival, wasn't an experience, it was life. Healthy food made a body strong, delicious food made a body happy, and no body could get along without food period. So she took the matter of serving meals seriously, most especially when it came to her meats. The exchange of life to sustain life was sacred in its own right, so it ought to come with dressings that would make the diner appreciate it most.

Flat iron steak grounded in the kitchen for the juiciest, purest flavor—check. Mix of milk, bread crumbs, and house-made barbeque sauce—check. A pinch of salt, garlic, and cayenne pepper—check. She mixed them all together with her own hands, packing the meat loosely and weighing each patty before heading to the grill. She couldn't just slap them on, either, no; her babies needed maximum crusty, caramelized searing for a proper barbeque flavor. Of all things, she used a cast-iron pan on the grill, leaving the lid on to keep it smoking hot until the meat went inside. How many times she flipped the heavy thing in a day didn't matter—it produced the juiciest burgers with a perfect crunch she dared any other chef or backyard barbequer in all of Loom to beat.

Not that any food critics were visiting anytime soon. It wasn't that the restaurant had a bad reputation, it was just in the wrong part of town, not where tourists liked to visit when looking for the brightest and loudest landmarks to take selfies in front of. The pride of Roanne's life was limited to a 5-year-old article printed from Loom Bugle's website, framed and set between two hockey players on the wall in front of the bar. “BEST BURGERS IN TOWN: DARLYN'S CAFE IS THE NEW DELICIOUS,” its title read, following a short little blurb about the restaurant’s specialty sandwiches. In all that time, no one had ever commented on the boring piece of paper, but someday, someday a bored drunk was going to point at it and say something along the lines of, “Damn right!”

“Ro! Denise has to leave early today. Cover the bar for lunch, won't you?” Elaine's shock of gray-brown hair popped out from the kitchen door, much to the angel's frustration.

“I'm not in a people mood today. Make Caleb do it.”

Caleb, who happened to be assisting on the kitchen, snorted with amusement. “She had a busy night, see—”

“Aaaaand I'm going. Try not to light anything on fire!” Roanne tugged off her apron, stuffing it into a ball before hucking it at the boy. His laughter followed her all the way out the door and into the hallway, where she tied a new apron over the top of her black chef coat and washed her hands. Her hair was still caught up in a messy ponytail, which bounced along with way more energy than her sore, leaden body had when she made her way out to the restaurant’s dining floor.

Lo and behold, there were the bright and fluffy, unmistakable wings of Toki. Roanne slapped her forehead, already having forgotten the message she'd sent. Of course, that wasn't all—right next to Toki was another set of massive wings that could only belong to one person. It was early, way too early to be thinking about him again, much less seeing—

Don't think, don't think about it. Just go! Roanne pushed up her lips with two fingers, trying to smile before she walked over. Somehow Toki saw her before she even got there despite the menu in her face, waving and smiling and—Gods, she is so cute!—just being herself. She and Jasper almost seemed to match with those soft, cherubic faces and blue eyes, but one had a dry familiarity to his gaze while the other was all shy sweetness.

“Lookit you, buoying up the whole world with that smile. I'll start you on a Cheribita—you'll need it if you're sitting next to Jasper—total stranger I've never met, best keep away from him—and how about a Dark and Stormy for you, Mr. Up to the Nines?” The last nickname she reserved for Lazarus, casually brushing aside the massive aura that hung around him like an angry thundercloud.

@Howler @Wind Wild @Themerlinhawk

Essence of the World: Cadence [Always Open]

Loom: Darlyn's Cafe

Day 3, Morning-Afternoon
Zadkiel, Roanne

Her skull felt like lead, so heavy and thick she could barely lift it. Shoulders, arms, legs—they had the same problem, painfully slow and cumbersome as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Something slid off her waist as she did, a pale and well-manicured hand falling onto the mattress. She glanced at it, then at the creature behind her. White, white, white, his skin was smooth ivory, his hair liquid moonlight, his feathers cotton fluff. This was what people thought of when imagining a sleeping angel.

Yes, that, and not the harpy who found herself in a mirror on her way to the shower. Her cherry-caramel hair was curled into knots, stringy on one side of her head while the other fluffed out into a rat's nest. Her long neck was riddled with hickeys, such delicate, angry puffs of red that dotted the skin in embarrassing numbers. And, Gods, that was hardly the only place the wicked marks were blushing from! Mortified, Roanne scurried from the image and slipped into the shower, letting the hot water soothe her poor skin. Nothing like a good wash to—

Dammit! Of course, of course it wouldn't get the smell of him out. She was using his shampoo and his bodywash, after all. Clean, but hardly satisfied, she dried herself as quickly as she could, applying a hasty and generous amount of foundation she'd stashed away. With much more tame and damp curls trailing after her head, she practically jumped and shimmied into her clothes, which she neglected to realize had been cleaned and patched up sometime in the night.

“You're a wolf in sheep skin, Mr. Mercy!” Roanne rolled her eyes as she skipped out the door, only to rush back in for her phone, which had apparently been left on the bedside table she'd fallen asleep next to.

-~-

You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
Cryin' all the time
You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
Cryin' all the time
Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit
And you ain't no friend of mine

Nice to see you, too, Elvis. Roanne heaved in breath after breath as she stumbled through the back door of Darlyn's Cafe. The blaring music of the restaurant’s jukebox could be heard all the way into the kitchen, which was where Roanne shrugged off her coat and pulled out her phone. The few cooks on duty there chuckled at her entrance, offering their morning duties.

Its been a while. U should visit the cafe. Ill buy Roanne thumbed in the words on her phone and sent them to a contact she'd been starting to feel guilty about neglecting. Poor Tokarin—what was she doing off all on her own, anyways? Sure, she was an angel and all, and a trained one at that, but she also wasn't a battle angel or even a guardian. With everything going on in the streets, well... no, better not to think about it. She just needed to see the sweet girl's face again.

Roanne tied her apron on, tucking her phone into her jacket hanging on the kitchen wall. With her breath mostly recovered, she was able to go straight to work on morning preparations. All the produce dates had to be checked, the vegetables washed and chopped, the meat sliced and the patties formed. As much as she loved the crisp smells and the gratifying chop of her knife, they only seemed to last a moment. Time ticked by in a flash, the morning light of the kitchen turning richer and thicker as afternoon approached.