Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Je veux savoir ce que la tempête pense quand le temps est calme.
2 yrs ago
Si la mort n'est que ténèbres, nous vivons tous en enfer...
1 like
2 yrs ago
Toutes les routes disparaissent alors que la mer noie le soleil.
1 like
2 yrs ago
Lumière bleue sur les yeux. Donc j'étais, pour toujours.
1 like
3 yrs ago
Ever had those dreams that feel like they last for days but its only been a handful of hours? I could go for a few of those back to back...


Hey yas!
Don't mind the post-count. Most of my dealings are in Discord/PM. If I'm a part of an rp, you would know.

I see you managed to make your way here, so you're probably curious about a few things, ah? To start, I am based out of UTC-06:00 and currently have an availability weekday evenings and pretty much whenever on weekends.
I prefer darker themes and elements of mystery when possible, so you know there's a soft spot in my heart for Lovecraft, but other than that, I'm not huge on most fandoms.
Sorry about the 'post count/active days' ratio. I'm a bit of a stickler for the kinds of threads I join since I tend to pour my heart into one or two threads at a time and don't have much time or energy to be spread super thin. <_>;
Rest assured, if I intend on joining a thread, I'll give it my all! \o/


As for RP interest,
I am I huge fan of-
- Fantasy
- Scifi/futuristic
- Post-apocalypse
- Theme combinations
- M+M combinations~ ;3

However, I'm not big on-
- Mary/Gary Sue
- Historical
- Free RP
- Haters
- Drama

I am currently in the middle of~
Unheroic: The Backwards Castle
Bloodrose Irregulars
Knights VS Dragons
Trouble in Korthos

Isle of Atria

Diddly Do
A Tale of Three Moons
Aieth - The World Between

Most Recent Posts

Kite looked up from his attention paid to the dead grass, having gently sank the tips of their gloves into the soil that yielded like sand. In the time they'd been holding the small scoop, it continued to desiccate, the grass crumbling to dust as Kite looked back from their exchange with Violet to their hands as the fine powder sifted through their fingers. They clapped their hands off as they stood up and back off a step, not wanting to inhale the small cloud the disturbance had briefly kicked up. "Thfflef-phelt prrefefefefff...." they tried to articulate, frustratedly trailing off with a small growl before looking around, trying to catch remnants of the unfolding actions.

Isabelle's efforts earned them the acute sensation of plunging their hands into an ice-bath upon contact with the man. Though the glow of her efforts staved off the brunt of the maleficence, it was sickeningly clear to the woman that the darkness from which the man's afflictions stemmed was something made weak in spite of its oppressiveness.

Fraying edges that dumbly sizzle and evaporate in flourishing plumes of flame; a tapestry set alight.

A hand passing through the web of a spider.

A lantern on the edge of night, needing only to be shifted an inch in order to illuminate the man's true form.

Though what divinity Isabella's powers were claimed to originate from were effective in driving out the curse, with ease it was excised, the struggle more akin to opening a letter than driving out an inherently evil affliction. The cruelty blatant with the apparent lazy amalgam of curses bundled together in haste like a snowball. What Isabella could feel behind the spells was a spool of anger and quickly plunged stakes to anchor each shallow enough only to stick.

No passion. No nuance. No design.
This was the work of punishment, not passion.

Davon took his time to silently look over his restored limbs, his toes curling as the leg properly filled the leg of his pants. Wonder and amazement ruled his expression, but not surprise, having had nothing but full faith in Isabella. The first actions tasked of his restored state were to manage himself to his knees and clasp his hands in soft prayer, Isabella's name sharing adoration in the murmured gratitude. Eyes closed and head lowered, he was indifferent to if she chose to pay him attention, as the thanks was not necessarily for her, but for what powers at play allowed her to 'perform such boundless miracles in defiance of The Old Dark'.

Jasper turned their head, slightly as they listened to Violet. "There are shapes in the forest that I do not recognize. As they are on the other side of the river, I am not immediately concerned," They flatly said, speaking again after a long pause, after Violet had turned back to the group, implying they were continuing their conversation with Kite, "Unlikely. It may have burnt the soil down a few inches, but we are safe from it, in this state."

Somewhere out in the woods back across the bridge, the distant muffled roar of Vandal Savant rang out. Birds of all and other shapes scattered from the trees as five resounding 'thumps' concussed the air, the ground almost seeming to shake from the reverberations.
"That, however...may-" Jasper began, the treeline rustling once more as two tall shapes and a small handful of smaller ones emerged from the path in a jog to cross the bridge in a slight haste. The two were lanky, standing some six to seven feet tall with long muscular arms coated in a reddish-orange fur. Otherwise, they were clad in a sort of light armor and metal helmets, the details difficult to make out from the distance. One of them pointed across the bridge and a few barked words saw them and their entourage drawing weapons from their hips and backs. The four smaller ones were some 3-4ft tall with dog-like snouts from how pointed their noses seemed to be, matching their ears, their details standing out on the backdrop of water and wood by the distinct green hue of their flesh. The group must have noticed our heroes, as they picked up the pace to cross the bridge before they could be caught out in the open.
"...may drive them back our way." Jasper concluded, their tone pleasant as always even as they raised their fists once more.

From the commotion, Davon looked up from their ritual and darted back into the crumbled camp with a skip to their step after overcompensating with having a normal leg, once more. They had returned to their crossbow, quickly going about getting it ready for the new company.
Essentially catching the man, their flailing would have brought the underhand grip on the dagger back into the side of Walker's head were it not for his reactions to hook his own blade past the blade to pry it from their handwith a twist. With the hold, the man half knelt at Walker's feet, their arm held up in the air as the dagger spiraled away.

Now they decided to be silent, still meeting Walker's eyes with a stony and expecting glare. The dagger clinked to the ground, the crackling parchment hue of the blade sparking once as the weapon itself shuddered across the ground in the direction of the dead patch of grass, its efforts fading like its glow before becoming innert. The man's eyes looked from the dagger to the others, contempt dancing on their expression as Jasper tilted their head in response. The construct remained quiet, watching the man, in return, with his fingers laced behind his back. At Violet's assertion, both Kite and Jasper looked at eachother, but with no way to understand eachother, the stare would have to suffice before the two looked back upon the scene. Kite huffed a sound like a sigh.

"Lost...bandits or Daggard's goons," They simply answer, then looking back to Violet after her question, grunting as walker dropped them. "Fancy hooded cloaks...odd wizard of the house, for sure..." they spat, gesturing to Violet in the same motion as easing themselves to their human leg, as the other seemed ill-suited for kneeling or similar motions by the way it awkwardly pawed the ground. "Oh, my pardon...sorcerer? Warlock? Crone? Acolyte? Hedgemage!?" they growled as if they didn't really care, but were just offering dorrogotory terms for a mage. They squeezed their eyes shut and tremblingly shook their head, fighting to hold composure...perhapse afflicted beyond the physical sense. "I...hnnf....I saw it...I..." they tried to articulate, their thoughts slipping through their fingers the same as the soil through their good hand as they dug their hands into the dying grit that spread from the splatter. "They...showed me your faces...I...I think..." he continued, his tone growing defeated with a growing realization, lucidity clawing its way back. "I-I...I do not know who!!" they wailed into the ground, struggling to rip up a dead patch of grass with their bad hand, plopping it back down with as much force as they could seemingly muster...likely having once been their dominant hand.

"The words say you will kill me when I tell you..." he hissed after a short pause, swallowing hard as he slowly grew pale. "...A...shadow fell upon us..." they grimaced as they fought to recall, the fluttering of their eyelids and small shivers painting a picture somewhere aside from hyperboyle.

Jasper slowly turned to look back down the bridge the way they came, wholly unpopulated. They did not look away.

Kite gently paced through the scene, hesitating before the patch of dead grass and kneeling to pinch one of the blades that crumbled like ash in their touch. "Lhffph...L-leerff..." they tried to sound, a thought in mind from how they furrowed their brows, then sweepin their hand directly into the soil that crunched from the force, kicking up a bit of dust from the dead grass and dessicated soil. "Strhfffuheffefefef..." Kite commented, looking at the mess on his palm he then dusted off, standing and then looking back to Jasper who had began to pace to stand in the mid-space at the end of the bridge, taking a wide stance with fingers still folded behind their back as their full attention was turned down the bridge. "Yes. An astute observation," Jasper softly commented in response, their attention focused.

The hobbled man continued, "...It came with the ones that crawl a..." their head twitched a few times, their teeth grit in this, nostrils flaring in the restrained emotions that would only serve to smear the story. "a-and...she...was here...this time..." his words hissing to a whisper as if the shame was a weight upon his chest.

A distant creak, indistinguishable from the groaning trees, Jasper's arms fell to his side, their palms clenched to fists as he abruptly began pacing down the bridge the way the came, purpose and threat in their steps. Their stance was something of balance, they nearly seemed to float between the grace of their steps as they slowly raised their fists to a boxer's level. With this, trees and bushes on the other side of the river rustled before once more growing still.
Jasper paused, still in their stance for a few palpable moments before lowering their hands and relaxing their fists to rejoin the group without a word. They briefly looked off to the left, a place where nobody stood, but upon reaching the end of the bridge the group was on, they turned and reassumed their stance, hands folded.

Kite watched them the entire time, standing to brush the ashen foliage from their black attire, and then following their gaze off into nothing, looking to Violet then back to Jasper, then to the man who once more spoke, "...D-Daggard's beasts took the rest, a...and..." they'd been delaying this next bit, the words slow to form on their tongue before they growled, "Th-That bitch Kaath went after them...I wouldn't be here to tell you if she hadn't shown up."
They looked into the dirt with this confession, but a defeated chuckle added, "She did this to I could could tell you this...because I would have ran..."

There was a long pause, they looked up to Isabella.

"I...I am sorry, Miss Isabella...h-" he began, but at this point he blinked a few times, regaining clarity enough in this abrupt instance to stop talking, seeming surprised and clasping their good hand over their mouth as if what they had been saying was not what they had wanted to voice.
"H-H! N-no!" The man barked, flailing to scramble back from those wishing to offer them 'mercy'. "I-I'm not going to be your slave!" They barked, a soft sound of steel against leather before they were brandishing a dagger in defence, the shriveled hand clenched before them in a versed defensive stance, hopeless in their state, but they were still keen to fight. "I'm fine on my own, witch! The city can help me!" they continued, holding their knife to the edge facing the group to hopefully parry incomming attacks. "Who-Who are you! What happened!? What did you-!" Their alarm cut off by Isabelle emerging to blindly brandish their cane. "A-Isa-!" They began before a renewed vigor took them. He tried to rise and take a swing at Walker, going wide as the goat-leg kicked and they stabbed into the ground in their flailing. He was scrambling, now, his actions erratic as he swiped at the group in his struggle just to coordinate.

"Stay-stay away from her! I am your enemy!!" They declared, propping themselves up enough to stand-ish with a tree to brace against. The goat-leg angled, the man gaining an understanding of how to potentially use it to spring upon the group.
Their fingers were keen, the blade twirling between their fingers to slip from an overhand grip to an underhand stance, the shriveled hand on the back of the dagger. In their blatant panic, they sprung for Walker in this telegraphed lunge, no means of catching themselves from this desperate effort. "BE DAMNED!" They roared, the small blade of the dagger crackling to some glowing light on their declaration.
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"I have...concerns..." Jasper admitted in a strangely human lilt to their tone as if they were actively sharing a half-truth of sorts. "Yes. It was my intention to rely on Kedvin and his crew to safely lead you two back to Ispar. While they may be arrogant and occasionally uncouth, I had been levering most of what plan I can improvise on the information that they would be right here waiting for you."

There came a long pause after Walker's question, the alien mind of the golem burning through an unnecessary amount of time to produce an answer. "...or he has delivered a warning," Jasper replied to Violet's question about the man from before.
"The Lord Madam, Kaath is...unlike...the common swordsman, as I hear you may have witnessed," an uneasy pacing to their explanation, as if to do so was an awkward manner of betrayal, "A...mage...may spend their life memorizing words from books. What Madam Kaath is...not this sort. She once described to me how the words came to her in their sleep...words meant for forked tongues."
Hands on his hips, Jasper turned away from the railing to better follow the group. "I digress. 'Vanished' is an accurate way to describe one of her...words...and it is common knowledge that she is fluent in dozens more. Many of which unsettle the people of Ispar..."

No sooner had the words left their frame, than did the mist far upstream swirl from how a colossal quadrupedal form strode from the forest, coming from the direction the group was headed. A distant creaking of wood and steel emanated from the form that braced to pause in the middle of the stream. From the distance, it may have been difficult to make out, but stout forms of significantly smaller figures bustling about on the scaffolding built around the towering thing's somewhat obscured body. It appeared to twitch, the faintest nub of what could be expected to be its 'head' turned, casting a powerful ray of light into the edge of the forest. After a moment, it let out a haunting fog-horn of a roar, belching black smoke into the empty sky, above, and continuing its long strides into the woods, swiftly disappearing from view.

"I should not say The Lord Madam, Kaath, is a 'monster'.....she is, however...dangerous. She is from some time, past, and many worry there are few, remaining, who can do much to stem her...moods," Jasper remarked, watching the last of the silhouette vanish behind the distant foliage, "That Strider, just now, was 'Vandal Savant', a patrol craft of The Brass Bastards. They should not be out this far...but it is good that this one is."

Jasper slowly, disappointedly shook his head.

"If the warning reached Kedvin and his band, there is a very good chance they have abandoned us and are en route back to town. When Kaath catches them, they will likely the last man, and their remains will be left to Cart-Dragger's monsters' whims." His expression flat, but the meagerest of frowns having replaced their previously pleasant demeanor. "I must offer my condolences. This is not how it usually is, though I am optimistic The Lord Madam has no intentions of attacking she would have, by now, if she so chose."

With the end of the bridge a bit more visible, small details offered credence to Jasper's predictions. Off to a side, two of the boards appeared to have been pushed to more widely part by some large, flat object being forced between them. The edges around this strike were coated in a semi-recent sheen of blood. What altercation or reason for the damage was left to the imagination, as this appeared to be the only inconsistency. If it was a fight, it must have been quickly and eerily cleanly decided. Other details became apparent as they neared the end. Large patches of dead grass in splash-like patterns, a fallen tree with the stump so smoothly cut that it shimmered like marble, and...a groaning sound drifting from the direction the tree fell, having apparently flattened a small hidden camp.

"Some people may have the mindset for it," Jasper replied to Violet's interest in the town's people. They began easing themselves down by one of the foundation posts, taking their hat off and setting it to the side, apparently getting into a position to hang off the side of the bridge to look underneath. Kite's face scrunched up for a moment as Violet booped his snoot. Blinking and looking nonplussed,
"Pardon the offence, Walker, try to think of it as how one would enjoy the sound of a voice," Jasper...apologized? They then continued with, " have a funny way of saying things. Especially with that accent."
With that, they bent their knees to hook onto one of the support rails under the main railing and practically hung off the side of the bridge. After a moment, they pulled themselves up and wordlessly went about finger-combing their hair back into place and setting the hat upon their head, looking around. As faint as the pleasant smile was, it now gave off a considerable lack of confidence that once shined off its fixed features. "This is certainly awkward. It appears Kedvin's men are not at their posts..." Jasper announced, looking between the three with folded fingers, appearing to be waiting for something.

Kite then paced out from the group, taking a number of purposeful steps to and then past Jasper, cautiously watching the edges and trying to make out any movement on the underside through the boards. The doll turned to watch Kite, then looked back to the other two. Whatever the plan was, Jasper had apparently been banking on the group having been approached by now. After Kite was apparently starting to make some distance, unhindered, the doll then stepped away to follow Kite. "I cannot completely speculate on their individual motives, though I had expected to allow them to escort us back to town,- An claim'oll tha ffffeckin glory. Prop'n them up loik 'eros n'shite'll upturn tha feckin' pub..." Jasper began again to address Violet's concerns about the alleged ruffians, defaulting to letting Kaath explain it in her own words. "...n'leave ya with tha mop," she hissed, a clicking sound from before under her tone as the syllables spat from clenched teeth. Their tone then swiftly changed in the next section, obviously taken from a different time...and with a strangely different accent though the voice was unmistakably the same, "Its currently just them and the Brass Bastards, ah reckon. Like ah mean, sure there's uthers an their squads. Frands an the like, lovely couples, all that gay sheeit," they chuckled, a light-hearted and genuine one to the quiet backdrop of common tavern ruckus, before continuing in the drawl, "And honey, that's cute an all, but its all just names for different sizes of the same tool."

Jasper surveyed the upstream side of the bridge's offered vistas, unsure what they were looking for, but doing so, anyway. "She winked, at that moment. I believe it was in an attempt to convey the expression that Kedvin is the...'biggest tool'. It may not be the best idea to open interactions with hostilities, all of this considered. The Lord Madam is entitled to maintain her foibles, but in her absence I must default to Kedvin's resources to ensure our return"
Jasper's eyes snapped over to Walker as he laughed, a soulless stare intended to grace the man with the attention he appeared to crave with his uncouth mirth. Unblinking, not even a twitch of the brow to denote a modicom of reaction beyond simply watching him. They remained statuesque even as he continued into his second irrelevant and wholly unhelpful spat of edgy defeatism. 'Shock' and 'disbelief' were too human of terms to explain the construct's fixation on Walker. Maybe it was a curiosity? Such an assumption was based on the thought that Jasper had never met anyone like Walker, before.

Frankly, Jasper was secure in his knowledge that there were, in fact, many like Walker, and all of them were disappointments, in the end. There were no words Jasper could offer that could satisfy Walker, the construct concluded. However...

Kite's ears perked up as Violet coldly addressed him as if this had just become business. They turned to look at Violet with a confused expression of alarm before Jasper finally said, "I think I may know a way to answer your question, Miss V, that may ease both of your dispositions." The smoother tone that the words came from held an almost condescending bite to it. Turning to the group, Jasper broke the lace of his fingers to offer an 'oh well' of a shrug with a playful tilt of their head as they simply said, "Give up," he casually chirped in a 'matter of fact' way before continuing, "Kedvin's people are not in the same position as you, No. They were either born here from those who gave up, or gave up, themselves. Given their unknown odds, they chose to die here...'safely'. They abandoned their strings or were associates of those who did, their Kites withered, and they were free to sell their lives to the library, to research, to the woods, or to Kedvin Buncha."
Jasper didn't articulate or gesture as he spoke, this was a raw addressal intended to focus the two out of their a scolding, but with a smile. "I will elucidate you to their fates; that every last one of them will expire in this space between, trying to help whoever holds the string, next, on their way."

Kite's fluff stood up, eyes blinking from looking between Jasper and Violet.

"Their deaths will be slow, uncomfortable, and undignified. All you have to do is admit their efforts are in vain, and you can be free to join them. They will not hold it against you. There will be others to hold the string...there always is."

"Vh...vee..." Kite softly spoke, ears folding back as he hesitantly took a step closer, a desperate look of frustration behind how he seemed to be trying to sound out words to speak for himself.

Jasper's smile creaked into a subtle wry smirk, "I am confident the next ones will not be quite as disappointing as 'a pair of humans--next in line for this grand ol' endeavor', as you would put it, Captain Walker," they mused, shifting to a cut version of Walker's own words. They turned to address Violet, "Your associate can be replaced, many in town would be honored to take his place. I do, however, insist you consider these options, carefully."

They had made it not far onto the bridge before Jasper turned and rested their arms on the railing, seeming to be observing the downstream of the crossing. Disregarding Walker's first comment, since the response had minimal bearing on disposition and little other topical similarities to the proposed game of fake names. "I am sure they mean well. There are only infrequent reports of misconduct, and the work serves The Scab, well enough," they replied to the second, though, taking a few pacing steps further on the bridge, dragging porcelain fingertips along the grains of the railing before stopping at another spot a few meters in. "An excellent observation, Captain Walker!" they mechanically and happily chirped, having not immediately looked up, but then continuing in the smoother more 'intentional' tone, "...and a quaint metaphor, from the right perspective. Such idioms leave no credit to the means and men utilized for such endeavors, though."

Jasper crossed one leg over the back of the other, taking on a casual stance. "Good afternoon, Miss V," they automatically greeted when addressed, but leaned in to bridge their fingers and rest their chin on the folded digits while apparently listening in spite of their unmoving expression or gaze. There was a notable pause after Violet concluded her next line of questions before the construct spoke, about enough time it would take to sigh, illustrated by a slight tilting of his head, instead.
"These are difficult questions, but I will do my best to produce a satisfactory answer..." they hesitantly chirped before elaborating, "It is speculated that 'Kite' avatar...of sorts, thought to be at least a small portion of whatever The Spire drew its power from to wage this war. It is a theory similar to the 'Leyline' practice of magic, where arcane catalyst is tapped into in order to shape reality by both temporarily upsetting the flow in an area, denaturing local reality, as well as redirecting this portion of arcane catalyst to assert a new will into the laws of physics. This process of cascading and manipulating 'leylines' to denature local reality for short periods of time is what many call 'magic'...but with how different worlds have shown to have their own definitions and processes of 'evocation', this constant from my world has become a matter of theory rather than a law of physics. The research to map out leylines in this space, between, has proven to be troublesome, as more 'otherwise' bleeds into this space, between. Not to discount the occasional troubles with local flora and fauna, Master Harper has frequently expressed her frustration in her endeavor to contain The Scab, itself, to best protect its citizens. Yes. This is where I intend to lead you."
They pause, blinking once, "Pardon the tangent I embarked on, but to properly answer your question, I needed to provide context, first," they explained, sidling another step, only lifting their elbows to shift the distance. Somewhere somewhat close by in the river, a few salmon-like fish mingled by the coastal rocks before flapping and jumping their way into the river, proper.
"This aforementioned speculation supposes that Spire pulls its strength from, is one aside from commonplace 'time'. The process of The Spire pulling life from this 'world' introduced this otherwise isolated instance to a concept of entropy. As The Spire is suspected to be primarily intended to consume the...'essence'...of this titular I understand that th-this next part may b-be-be-be uncomfortttttttable to hear...ear..." They started to explain, their head twitching from side to side and eyelids clicking as they fluttered, closed, and then opened once more, "Whatever it is that-at...The Spire is consuming, it is capable of knowing it is being...eaten...and it has chosen creatures more adapted to entropy to back. Through this pact is assumed the entity assumes it has permission to 'share your time' in order to restore its preferred state. We are uncertain if this is harmful to the host, in the long run."

During the coming long pause, Kite sniffed, awkwardly, crossing their arms as they, too, wandered to the other side of the bridge to look upstream. They sighed and seemed like they were about to speak before Jasper started, once more. "The Lord Madam, Kaath, as you know her, taught me how to hunt for aquatic sub-lucids, here..." their smooth tones sounding somehow longing behind the mechanical fluting of a voice which wouldn't seem much different from how he'd been speaking, before. "" Kite sounded out, and Jasper nodded, "Mmh, fish..." agreeing and then digressing, "Many people from the multiverse crossed the old bridge. It was thought to need to be made wider from its alleged humble beginnings. At first it was giants, titans, beasts of might that clashed where the elements met. This 'Battle Creek' was gouged deep from the sword of one of those entities, and another bridge was built of beautifully painted cobblestone."
Jasper's brows seemed to lift into an amused expression, "And when that one blew up when 'Cart-Dragger' and 'Cart-Pusher' had their war, this one was built. Cart-Dragger licks their wounds, and Kedvin's men string up meshed, underneath to climb up behind the people the group across the bridge will confront. They will probably join him, be 'associated' in a misconduct report..." Jasper then lifted their head to look down the rest of the bridge, "...or toss Kedvin's men into the river to let the sharks have at them."
There came no reply in spite of the suspicion being called out. After a short moment, Jasper returned his chin to the bridged, doll-like fingers. "To more directly answer your question, Miss V, you are who your Kite found on short notice, likely while being chased or while hiding. My apologies...there used to be more like The Lord least, how she was before her moods...but..." another short pause, "...many are dead. Most died highly uncomfortable and in undignified ways. Most, these days, are elderly, pooling their minds to the library in a way of better speculating what is on the other side of the gate...they need men like Kedvin to be a heavy hand against exterior threats." Jasper then stood back with a step to face the two, "Kaath, a fighter..." a gesture to Walker, "...Kedvin, a leader," a gesture to Violet. "While it would be unkind of me to say there is nothing special about you two, as I understand humans prefer to rest moral stock in your definition, more 'special' selections have already been selected, and you are simply 'next'."

Kite flicked an ear, the two folding back as his state of mind was speculated on with him still within earshot, but Jasper was quick to add, "If it is any consolation, there are many others less special that have come, before."
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Jasper stepped away from the two to let Violet tend to Kite who winced and sputtered with mild annoyance from how she dabbed and wiped at him. Already pacing into the clearing and then turning once they reached the somewhat overgrown path, they patiently waited for the two to air their inquiries. With another clicking blink, they brought a hand to the top of their head and changed directions to search the bushes near where their head was retrieved.
"Short answers, first, as I insist we walk and talk," they commented, brushing debris from a hat they retrieved, planting it on their head and then slipping their left hand along their side. "Ah. I see..." they softly mused, the tone considerably less...mechanical. Looking over themselves as they returned to the path, they gestured with one in the direction of where it wound off into the woods.

"My attempts at I assume, by your care for...Kite...that you are, how The Lord Madam says, 'Holding. The. String'." Forgoing the mimicry and raising their hands of offer air quotes to accentuate each of the three words. Returning their hands behind their back and carefully walking backwards with measured steps, "A belief is that a message is intending to be sent, and it is not uncommon for Valket to first seek one they can rely on," Jasper's eyes shift to Walker, "-and second, one that can protect the first. As this is not The Spire, please do not be alarmed by the diminished efficacy of your Kite. This is not their world."

Jasper then lowered their head, slightly in consideration before simply speaking, "I serve Masters Jasper Lanes and Adelaide Harper. I am confident they are safe, and so I am choosing to use their names, name is not Jasper Lanes. I am using using his name as...a -a..." their eyelids flutter sporadically for a moment before a pause. After a few seconds, they concluded, "I intend to fairly represent those whom I serve, and I understand this does not answer your question. As such, I will elaborate on the meaning of your question."
Their eyelids shifted down to don a seemingly apologetic expression, "The Lord Madam...Kaath...while she is well deserving of her accompanying titles and accolades, medals and what prestige she refuses to show..." Jasper then takes a moment to mimic the sound of an exasperated breath before sighing, "Nobless obliege," and then resuming, "...has had...uncommon...experiences many within our ranks do not understand. Unfortunately, she has chosen to be highly reclusive, and it would be unfair of me to assert unfounded theories. I would suggest asking Kaath, directly, were I not concerned her reactions would be less than cordial."
Lifting their hands to idly pick debris and loose strings from their heavy-looking fabric that covered a slim form-fitting armor of sorts, seemingly for dramatic effect as they soon commented, "No. I do not share in, nor condone Kaath's distain."

With the first block addressed, the crew had found themselves traversing a rather leisurely hike down the gentle slope the path snaked off through. The sounds of the forest had long since resumed, giving a serene backdrop to the walk.
Assorted wildlife flitted and mingled in the canopy and branches; long-legged short-tailed squirrels, things that looked like woodpeckers but somewhere around the size of a turkey would swoop down and scramble along the bark on bat-like fore-claws and talons as they pried and beat into the flesh of these twisting maple-leaved willows. Their vines, clad in the somewhat familiar leaves, gently lowered from between the boughs, some of their leaves crumpled like a fist. Other time, one could nearly watch the slow process of the vines rolling up on themselves and gently climbing up the branches to seek out the light from above. All the while, the sounds of a babbling brook some distance to the right rumbled on, a percussion to the alien birdsongs and chirping insects.

"You are wholly entitled to refer to yourselves however you wish," Jasper once more began after a few minutes of a pause, folding their fingers behind their back as they took a few leisurely paced steps, turning on their heels in somewhat dancing steps as they appeared to admire the surroundings. "The Lord Madam, my associate has offered me references to entities from her world who would draw power from the formal identities of their prey. While we are uncertain if such creatures have made it into this space, between, I do not share my associate's experiences. Therefore, I cannot accurately ascertain the immediate necessity of choosing to protect your name. As I do not have a capability to assert my will upon others, I cannot prevent you from choosing to go by your true name..." Jasper explained, mostly looking to Walker while speaking. If it weren't for how unmoving their features were, the slight turn and nodding of their head could be construed as a wry smirk of acknowledgement that glinted across their pleasant, solid smile as they coyly added, "...unless we are already playing the game, Captain Walker~"
Their tone once again gained the unhollow hue of a more 'human' personality behind its voice, teasing, knowing, and playing along, a click of a wink and all.
"The goon who had been watching us was likely one of Buncha's Crew. They were too small to be a part of Cart-Dragger's," he commented in a reassuring tone. "Kedvin Buncha, and his...'Buncha Boys'...are thought of as...poachers? Candied words offa'uman's boot-lickin lips, stealin 'oll ah feckin proper good men. Yeh? Ya getn 'em'oll drunk'n teach'n t'b'shoits!" Jasper continued to explain before launching into another echo of Kaath who sounded a bit intoxicated, herself, but no less passionate about her stance on this Kedvin fellow, "Y'can't jus'steal bread loik that, ah? Spook'n 'oll manner'a people doin honest-loik werk; fekkin noifs'n bows, loik- wh..why y'starin' at me loik that? Yer not recordin' are--!?" The voice cut off, Jasper chiming back in to add, "Malcontentious extortionist ne'er-do-wells, I've come to understand. Cart-Dragger and their beasts would seek to eat and kill whatever they find, they are simple detriments to business. Buncha, however, is more of a parasite, taking credit for others' work."
Finally the path came to the bank of the now widening river, cemented cobblestone and brick holding foundation poles for a sturdy wooden bridge seemingly designed to take carts laden with goods and the beasts to pull them. A solid six meters wide, it rode over another thirty meters of rocky cropping. Seemingly constructed towards the beginning of the mouth to whatever body of water the river flowed into, defiant trees rose from tiny land masses in the process of erosion. In a way, the location was built with long-broken and repaired aesthetics until simply left to wear away over what could have been hundreds of years. Still the quality of the bridge wasn't in question, seeming somewhat new, as if refurbished or completely rebuilt for a myriad reasons.
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