HokumPocus

~ The Rosalie District - Art of Sound ~ [Music / Slice of Life]

...was also making a female character, oops

I´m probably still gonna go through with the idea though

~ The Rosalie District - Art of Sound ~ [Music / Slice of Life]

I remember joining cystra city a looong time ago

def want to join this

Eɴᴛᴇʀ — Into an Isekai World

---

Tarashima Forest

---

"That makes sense..." he told Ipharia, voice dropping to a near whisper. They were dressed oddly because they were foreigners. They asked a lot of questions because they were uncertain how life functioned in these lands. Neither statement was false, yet refusing to strengthen either with some sort of cover story felt like a bad omen on par with what Honami had mentioned. Kaito had discussed the topic of the spotlight effect with others in the past, how humans had a tendency to overstate how notable they were to others. He would have to reassure himself that some fantasy villager would be too preoccupied with farming or getting drunk to do anything milder than raising an eyebrow at them. That's what villagers did, right? Drink something like mead from an oversized wooden mug, in mobile games and television shows.

"That would be our safest option, I think."

The Five Senses

INTERLUDE

_{Year 4256
2nd day of the month of Olfaccium
Morning
Svephraey + Octavio}

---

Octavio strode through the halls that connected the dungeon's chambers, his gloved index finger brushing past the length of the stone wall as he moved. Though initially an earnest attempt to use its texture to avoid getting lost, he'd gradually grown bored. He saw no reason to continue acting as if this situation was any different from his encounter with the Mysterious Stranger. If either of the powerful men had wanted him dead, then there would be no obstacles in their way. While his first encounter of that nature had left him feeling frustrated and powerless, he now felt a kind of disinterested respect. There were far more important things to worry about than the intentions of men who insisted on shrouding themselves in mystery.

His movements came to a halt. "An indent, interesting."

His finger traced the circumference of a small concave bump in the wall. He withdrew a small knife to carve out a marker, but thought better of it. There was no way to know the extent of the Kharu-Natjer's power, and he wasn't about to vandalize his home. He chuckled. In the absence of his companion, it was a lot harder to make civilized decisions.

"Little runt, little runt. Not like the other pups." A female's voice purred from the tunnel's depths. There, where light met shadow, sat Svephraey, scraping at the floor with a needle like dagger.

Eyes towards the ground, she continued her chant. "Begs for food. Begs for love. Never did it find a one." Her words came rhythmically. They hung in the air much like a melody. "Alone, it wandered to and fro. Till, one day... it met another..."

A pebble leapt from the ground. Chipped away by Svephraey's dagger. The woman ceased her scrapping. Her weapon hand relaxed. Slowly Svephraey's gaze wandered upward. Her eyes meeting Octavio's expectantly.

"Tell me, love." The woman said. "What happened then?"

A sudden noise made Octavio turn. Through the eerie glow of the jade torches he made out the rough shape of a person, a shape that moved bit by bit as it carved the ground with a dagger. He cursed himself for having carelessly assumed the Kharu-Natjer’s territory would have been free of threats outside the man himself. As the sound of metal scraping against stone rattled in his skull, he realized that just because the man saw use in keeping him alive it didn’t mean he’d be under his protection. What general or king hadn’t waved away the lives of his inferiors without as much as a blink of the eye?

She chanted, or at least seemed to recite, a verse about a lost animal, and although there was no way a reasonable man would arrive to the conclusion, he knew on an instinctual level it was about him.

“What an interesting little chant,” he mused, eyes drifting towards the miserable sources of light around them, “do you by any chance remember who taught you that?” In the past, he’d had conversations with individuals who had blades pressed against his throat. Despite the distance between them, the encounter felt similar.

Svephraey cocked her head. Her expression unchanging... or at least as far as anyone could tell. The exaggerated turtleneck made reading her expression quite difficult, as the only thing left visible were her eyes.

The woman gave the man a shrug. Slowly, she rose from the ground. Her dagger vanishing beneath the folds of her sleeve with a flick of the wrist.

"Just a story my mother told." She said. "Her stories never did end... pleasantly..."

A part of him wanted to let out a fabricated chuckle, or even a grin to ease the oppressive tension that permeated the chamber, but it was hard to gauge what was appropriate given the woman's obscured expressions. At least withdrawing her dagger meant he wasn't a target. For now.

"Ah, well they say every story is either a tragedy or a comedy. I myself always preferred the latter, in my youth as an actor." His shoulder leaned against the stone, the rest of his body softening in response.

Amused by Octavio's words, Svephraey's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Smooth words, fine garments, a fear of tragedies and..." Svephraey's eyes wandered to Octavio's many rings. "a taste for shiny accessories... Yes... an actor indeed..."

Svephraey slowly approached Octavio. Her steps so light and delicate, it made her appear to glide across the floor in the dim light. "Be honest now, love." The woman said. "Did you steal your pet the way you stole the cloth on your back?"

It wasn't the first time he'd been correctly accused of having stolen his garments. But those other incidents had been after copious amounts of alcohol or the failure to latch on to some trend among nobles. All of this was information she could possibly have no way of knowing, information she laid out on display as part of some attempt to cut him down to size.

He was really starting to miss the good old days of just stealing.

"Ah, you mean Lynx..."

He was becoming aware of how uncomfortable the rough stone against his body felt, a pressure that prickled against his skin through the stolen cloth. "Calling him a pet is a disservice to his capabilities. A fine young man, once you look past the four paws." As strange as it felt to defend Lynx, the words flowed out of him effortlessly.

"My-my, you are an amusing one..." Svephraey replied, her eyebrows rising just a hint. She raised her arm to her side, letting her fingers brush against the stone wall as she drew ever closer.

"It followed the other. A runt much like itself." Svephraey continued her chant. "From here to there, it didn't matter where. Learn, it did, from the other's ways. To survive, to hunt, wherever it stayed. Some lessons, though, did allude. Trust. Friendship. A heart left askew."

Svephraey's steps came to a pause, positioning her just in front of Octavio. Her gaze seemed to intensify as her chant cut off. "Talon spoke of your Familiar's delusions of self-importance. He did not mention you encouraged its behavior." Svephraey's eyes almost seemed to twinkle in amusement. "Funny, I would almost believe that you're the pet and it the master."

Svephraey paused, tilting her head as she regarded Octavio with curiosity. "A dangerous thing, love," She started, her voice just above a whisper, "when a pet becomes the master. You walk that same line the other did. A line so fine it leaves no sign..."

As she drew nearer he didn't budge. It was clear she was looking to toy with him, and he wasn't going to squirm that easily. "It's not pets and masters, it's two allies, each helping the other. Unless... you see all relationships that way?" He let the words hang in the stagnant air.

The corners of Svephraey's eyes appeared to rise almost as if she were smiling. "When you do what I do, you have no choice but to view all relationships with a healthy dose of skepticism. Else one day you'll find yourself alone. Bleeding out. Left to die..." Svephraey hesitated. Her gaze grew distant. "Sometimes, it's best to cut away others before they cut away you..."

A knot formed in Octavio’s throat. This is how I sound like to other people. The man who had once proudly proclaimed himself to be ruled by no one, coming and going wherever whenever. The man who had managed to ruin every inkling of a relationship with others, who ran before he could ever face anything approximating a consequence for his actions. “That’s not… right." His words caused Svephraey to raise an eyebrow, skeptically.

He couldn’t believe he was hesitating, but he couldn’t think of any suitable retort either. His experiences within his current party and his past both raged in his mind, images that contradicted one another. For the past few days he had been on the edge, and Svephraey was pushing him.

“Who are you?”

The woman eyed Octavio. "Just someone capable of filling in the blanks." She said coyly. Her gaze turned toward one of the nearby crystal jade candles. Slowly, she strode toward it.

"The story... it ends with the other realizing it outgrew the runt. But the other couldn't just let the runt go. So it did the only sensible thing... It bared its fangs on the little runt."

"The other devises a plan to trick the runt." She continued. "It kills a sickly boar and invites the runt to feast. Eating the boar would surely leave the runt weakened. It would be then that the other would come in with the killing blow."

"But the runt saw through the facade and found a weasel to bring to the feast. A weasel with quite the bite. Just right to set upon the other before it makes its strike."

Svephraey stopped in front of the candle. Her story ending much like it started. Silence.

Reaching out, Svephraey took the crystal jade candle and turned it in her hand. "A tragedy, much to your dislike." She said in a hushed tone. "Two companions turned enemies... On the bright side, the little runt does escape with its life... But one does wonder... Why did the other bare its fangs upon the runt?"

"Because there was distrust. And ignorance. Had they been civilized little animals," his eyes followed the taken candle, "then they would have known that cooperation is the wisest choice. It's why we're the civilized species." The wording. I'm going to come to regret that.

He felt like an idiot, to say the least. The story was intended to be a parallel to his own experiences and an invitation for them to be dissected, and he'd chosen to take the coward's way out and criticize it in the literal sense. A younger Octavio would have considered that a victory, but he couldn't help but desire more, more than to simply be content with never truly understanding a problem before running away from it.

"Civilized? Us?" Svephraey said. "That there is the real comedy. Cooperation? We cooperate only for as long as it serves us. In the end, no matter how much we pretend, our species is no different."

Svephraey paid the man a sidelong glance before tossing him the crystal jade candle. "Tell me, love. What do you see when you look at the crystal?"

Being with Lynx had helped Octavio in a number of ways. With their combined efforts, it had been far easier to determine crucial information, from the layouts of buildings to what a target's favorite color was. But exclusively targeting the emotionally vulnerable had come at the cost of dulling him. Against the woman's sharp wit, he found himself at a loss for words once more. Had this been a physical battle, he would have been scrambling from cover to cover, none of it working. He had to think harder, the way his younger self would before growing comfortable in the world of false luxury.

She wants me to agree with her. But why? She's stalking around a dark tunnel. And based on a handful of her earlier statements it wouldn't be wrong to assume she believes most of the ideas coming out of her mouth. He refused to let himself lapse into thinking about escape.

The candle, for lack of a better term, glowed in the palms of his hands. A symbol of hope. But that wouldn't be the "correct" answer. No. What did the candle really represent? The answer came to him quickly, much to his distaste. "The lack of cooperation. The sacrifice of hundreds of lives, of those who would never be able to receive the light to protect them." The fingers of his right hand stretched around it, gradually smothering the glow in streaks of pitch black. His eyes remained on the green energy, however. "But that wouldn't be right, would it? There are people willing to band together to stop the madness tearing at this world, willing to give their lives for it."

Svephraey gave the man a bored sounding clap. "Very deep. Very drawl." She lamented. "Is he a philosopher or a thief?" She wondered aloud. "Or just very good at putting a woman to sleep?"

With a shrug, Svephraey turned and proceeded to lazily stroll down the tunnel's length.

"People band together only when madness threatens their comfortable way of life. Much like that mismash of friends of yours." She said jeeringly. "Come, Love. You think you will all be sticking together once this fight is over, do you? No... You know better than that. They will all split up. Each of you going your separate ways."

Svephraey stopped her stroll in front of another crystal. "You know what I see when looking upon a crystal?" She asked. She didn't bother to wait for an answer. "When I stare into that greenish glow... I see a profit..."

The woman stared into the eerie light. It shine gave her a wolfish look. "Yes," She continued. "A Profit. One made by trafficking large quantities of crystal across the border."

She nodded to herself as if coming to a decision on something. "Yes..." She said. "If things go poorly here, that is what I shall do."

The woman raised her gaze back to Octavio. "When the dogs can no longer hide among the shadows, they will pay a lofty sum of coin to have tools like this in hand."

"And here I thought we were having an interesting conversation about society." He rested a hand on one of his hips. "It was about me this whole time?" A chuckle left his lips, as if they were both in on some sort of joke. "While I can't say I'm confident my allies and I will even survive this, cooperation is what's kept us from anything grisly so far. I'd even go as far as to say I've befriended some of them."

His attempts at unearthing her motivations hadn't given him the success he was hoping for. The answer ended up being the most obvious option, what every man toiled and yearned for most in life. Or at least as much as love, but Octavio had no respect for those who thought that way. "I was finally beginning to enjoy myself. Then you had to go and make it all about money."

It really was like trying to have a conversation with another him. One that hadn't been humbled by mortal combat and beings that skirted the line between human and not. Judging solely by appearances, she definitely seemed to be someone who could hold their own in combat. He mused how likely it was that he would have turned out the same had he put more effort into training. Why am I feeling jealous again? First that one stranger who dragged me into this mess, and now her.

"Is stalking around dark tunnels related to your plan?"

"Of course," She said smoothly. "After all, it's never been about the money, love."

Svephraey flicked her wrist. Her needle-like dagger reappeared in her hand. "It's always been about staying on top."

Svephraey spun quickly. With a yell, she swung her blade with all her might into the nearby crystal jade candle. To the candle holder's credit, the candle stayed in the structure. The structure, of course, unharmed. The candle, however, didn't fare as well. Where her blow landed, a few tiny white cracks spread out like a web.

Svephraey cocked her head. Her dagger already having disappeared back beneath her sleeve. "Sturdier than I thought." She said.

With a shrug, Svephraey let the candle be and retreated back towards the shadows. However, upon reaching the shadow's edge, she came to a halt.

"You know," She said, looking over her shoulder. "I suppose, in a way, the runt wasn't actually a runt after all... Funny, isn't it? How sometimes a tragedy and a comedy can be one in the same."

His eyes followed the spider web of cracks along the crystal in a way that suggested he knew how valuable they were. They were, of course, responsible for having saved him and his party’s lives repeatedly. But he now knew that Kheru-Natjer was more lax about his property than he assumed. Unless Svephraey was important enough to where an act like this was permissible?

Staying on top. Survival. They were on the same page now, at least. It had taken some time for both Lynx and him to grow accustomed to cooperating with others, yet survival hadn’t wavered as their ultimate goal in mind. He approached the cracked crystal and traced the white lines on its surface, his index finger traversing their paths like an explorer inside of a labyrinth, only barely avoiding one dead end after another.

“Who knows? We’ve yet to find out,” he said, as much as to himself as to her.

The corners of her eyes appeared to rise as if she were smiling. “Farewell, love. I imagine we will be seeing each other much more often in the future.” She said, disappearing into the shadows. “... Unless, of course, she gets revenge before we get the chance…”

It felt like a heavy blow aimed at his chest. He was certain he was on the edge of keeling over.

Ophelia was coming.

Eɴᴛᴇʀ — Into an Isekai World

---

Tarashima Forest

---

It was no small relief to hear Ipharia's explanation for his trouble with the spell. Magic was still too new of a concept, too fleeting and mysterious in his mind. Despite knowing almost nothing about his new power he felt it would vanish and leave him defenseless at any moment. "Attunement?" he asked, eyes widening.

They continued their journey and their conversations, with an increased cohesion. Kaito couldn't recall when it had happened, but at some point their conversations had lengthened and lost their initial sense of distrust with each other and their surroundings. Even Honami had calmed down. He hesitated to call this feeling friendship, however. It felt more like an alliance, something born out of a mutual need for survival.

"I don't know much about the stories you mention," he told Honami. Except that anything could happen in them, apparently. "But we should decide how to present ourselves to this settlement. We can't be entirely hidden since we need information yet we can't cause a scene. The most obvious thing though, is that we need to come up with our own story, some sort of explanation of who we are and what we're doing." He cast a cautious glance at Ipharia, worried of offending her. "Something like being your colleagues, maybe?"

Hey'all

WELCOME TO DA GUILD

Pariah Online III

_{:: the streets of thorinn // thorinn ::}

---

If trying to process what the word otaku meant was like trying to catch a dodgeball, then Tessa's speech was like trying to juggle a barrage of them. In the precious moments Alex had to recall what tanks, kits, supports, and dee pee esses were, the phrase "heal bitch" dealt the blow needed to derail his thoughts completely. Lucky for him, all she was asking for was his class.

"I'm a DPS," he declared, jutting a thumb near his chest. His words were enthusiastic, but there was a stilted inflection to them, as if he was giving a presentation over a subject he was only vaguely familiar with. "My powers let me do a lot of damage to one enemy at a time, and I get a lot better at doing it if I can focus. When I fight solo though, I usually just run away a lot, which is kind of like my second big power. Speed, I mean. And about healing. I can really only heal myself, and there's a limit to it." He tended to lump the rest of his abilities together, as they were mostly out of the way or "passive" as he'd heard some people call them. He kept quiet about them, since it seemed like the kind of thing that would only be worthwhile sharing if it a situation for it ever came up, or he got bored during a job.

He took a step back, eyeing Eaudenil with a smile and poorly disguised relief.

Estermere Academy - Military School RP

---

---

Roan scanned the vicinity with an almost eerie determination, trying to gauge the appearance of the rest of the officers in comparison to his. Judging by their coordinated and well put together clothes made it easy to infer most came from nations with temperate climates similar to this one. Most were lost in their thoughts or engaged in small talk that was interesting enough to distract them for the time being, but a handful of the more nervous students spared a glance back. He was so invested in trying to register everything that the speech had concluded by the time he was aware that one was being conducted in the first place. Old habits died hard.

He willed a small ember to hover above the palm of his hand. "Houses of fire and ice?" he muttered out loud. "I expect nothing less than the former."

He reassured himself mentally. This was a prestigious and above all competent academy, there was no way they'd make such a silly decision.

Until he remembered the nation he came from. The fire blinked out of existence.

Star Wars: The New Guard

---

Jarren inched towards the Wookie in the distance, his legs threatening to buckle under the burden of the man's full weight during the the initial effects of alcohol. The scene around him looked like a grimy kaleidoscope of alien life forms, the majority of wich were preoccupied with muttering amongst themselves or playing cards to pay the man any attention. The whole ordeal felt like wading through a swamp, not that he actually knew what that was like. Swamps were for the poor. He took a good look around him and tried not to think about if he currently qualified for that classification.

He stroked the outline of his head the same way a human might have brushed their hair to the side. He'd have to approach the merchant and grease him up good. Something soothing and gentle, the kind of pizzazz that let people know he was the sort of politician that kissed babies on the forehead. Or maybe a direct approach, something firm and brash, yet charismatic.

He used a human man's shoulder as a support. "Excuse me." He trudged onward without so much as making eye contact.

Jarren wanted to crack a smile at seeing the merchant, but it deflated before even being deployed halfway at the sight of a wookie and another human giving him a warning. His one shot at making easy credits that didn't involve actually having to perform physical activity, gone before his eyes. He picked up the pace, almost crashing into them.

"What gives, f-"

Furball.The word materialized in his mind, followed by memories of years worth of interspecies appreciation seminars, and the backlash that tended to happen to anyone caught getting handsy with a tentacle or creative with nicknames. He'd made close calls in the past with his career, ones that usually involved throwing credits at someone or bringing up their mortality enough for them to get the hint. But he was supposed to be making credits, not losing them, and a good eight tenths of the ship's vagrants looked like they could kick his ass, the walking carpet definitely included.

"..friend." A wide smile that had been on advertisements and interviews tightened around his face, as he snapped into a casual and friendly posture almost instantly. "Well, I'm glad we were all on the same page there. I could've sworn we were about to run into a murky situation."

Darkest Day (pkmn rp)

Flash leapt through the air and slammed his hooves onto the ground over and over again, like raw lightning let loose on its surroundings. Though Lark's commands were picking up volume in correspondence with the pokemon's rambunctious movements, many of them had been out of the zebstrika's own volition.

In Lark's hands there was nothing but the darkness of a balled up fist. When it came to reigning in Flash there was no beauty nor predictability involved in the process. This wasn't the time to have a camera out, nor to devote anything less than all his concentration into battle.

The ponyta, though small in stature and undeniably harmless in its pastel-colored appearance, was no pushover. The two horses exchanged blow after blow, weaving in and out of each other's attacks and creating a light show of electric yellow and lavender. When at last Flash had risked it all and compromised his safety for a direct hit, another threat had made his head whip.

"Flash cannon!"

Lark cupped his hands and shouted. "Jink it!"

He dragged his splayed out hooves and tensed his body in a final gambit to escape the attack's trajectory. The beam of metal light shot out and clipped his haunches, Sending him into a tailspin of electrical energy. After what felt like an eternity, Flash shook himself off. He was angry.