Ohm

Myriad Reality

Hmmm, good point. No idea. If I find a motivation, I'll come back.

Myriad Reality

<Snipped quote by Jimbo>

Interesting char. Any backstory/history/info on how they ended up in broader Existence?

@Etcetera

Keeda can exist essentially anywhere, provided the conditions are right, which they usually are. With respect to that, Keeda simply came into being in the broader Existence, coalescing as the sum of its parts. It collects things; stories, experiences, pasts and futures, the intangible. It has no bearing, no mission in mind. It simply can be, is, and will be; a vessel for progress and movement.

the game in which i secretly attempt to get everyone to listen to more music

the game is simple:

• shuffle your music player and post five songs that show up
• the next person picks one of those songs, gives it an earnest listen, gives it a short review in their post, then repeats step 1
• continue forever

i anticipate this lasting for all of four minutes, let's rock

my list:

• Aesop Rock - Vititus
• NF - Wake Up
• The Algorithm, Igorrr - deadlock
• Weekend Money - Hol' Up
• Vildhjarta - kaos2

Who would win?

The melted corpse of the T-800. Superheated metal beats frozen flesh, every time.

The melted corpse of the T-800 (Terminator 2) vs. that one jumpscare from Mulholland Drive, which is a movie I've never personally seen, but I've seen that particular scene where the jumpscare happens in the alley, and I don't really understand it because it's not scary (Mulholland Drive)

Myriad Reality

I'd like to submit a character for consideration.

Keeda

­

<sup>Name: Keeda-Makoda Meindyrt Hoort Khapshanka Mea Leaga Hama Khansi Oyo Bu Shrin Intika Ula Nephsaat
Gender: Indeterminate
Average Age: Thousands of years old, parts of its body are younger
Species: Unknown
Assumed Occupation(s): Traveler, Storyteller, Herald

Appearance: Masked entity, draped in layers of tattered cloth that, despite numerous holes, never reveals its body beneath. Emits an odd, occasionally strong and off-putting scent reminiscent of moss, derelict buildings, and bugs. When close enough, one can hear the sounds of skittering beneath its clothing.

Quirk(s): Frequent, short vocalizations reminiscent of struggle, references to itself as "this body" or "Keeda" and to others as "your body", awkward and shambling movement with surprising speed.

Abilities:</sup>

• ^{Damage Negation: Shifts its form to drastically reduce damage of incoming attacks.}
• ^{Wall/Ceiling Walking: Can walk on walls and ceilings with virtually no effort.}
• ^{Shadow Teleportation: Can teleport short distances when within darkness.}
• ^{Verminous Command: Can command small creatures and vermin of all kinds.}

Ꭼꭲꭼꭱɴꭺꮮ Ꭲꮋꭱꮻɴꭼ

T H E S O J O U R N , S I L I A C H

<sup>The gates of Port Kaigurne give way to rolling plains, tallgrass swaying in waves with the wind. In patches and pocketing the landscape, various flowers incomparable to the overgrowth of Lamafon dance in the breeze, soft and delicate petals flickering. Few and far between the gates of the port and the distant forests, towering trees sprout from the earth, natural landmarks that forge their own path across that of Siliach. Zahra can see the well-trodden dirt path before her, the majesty of nature fighting an ongoing battle to take back what was, is, and will be trampled by wheel and foot.

As the threshold to the Sojourn opens up to her, Zahra hears a commotion behind her. A young eidola merchant, covered in layers of cloth, begins to speed towards the open gates.

"Their passport has not been approved!" shouts a guard, attempting to chase after them. "Stop them!"

Somewhere behind them, Zahra sees a faint purple flash. Aeneas, the guard she spoke to just moments before, holds a bow and arrow, the latter of which is capped with an odd end. Before a move could be made, another purple flash occurs, and Zahra hears a resounding thok as a blunt arrow strikes the rushing eidola in the back of the neck. The young merchant stumbles forward and slams into the grass, unresponsive.

The clamoring that is the gaggle of merchants hawking their wares is now suddenly silent. For a moment, it seems as if no one moves until the now-unconscious merchant begins to breathe once more. A few quick footsteps, and Aeneas briefly appears before Zahra, crouching down near the eidola.

"My apologies," he says, scooping the insensible bird into his arms. "It's not often that this happens, but even with its rarity, we can't take any chances. Enjoy your journey."</sup>

R E D M I R E , T H R E E W E E K S A G O

<sup>"Tell me again."

She clenched her hands tight around the iron railing of the balcony. She swore that if she gripped it hard enough, pushed hard enough, she could bend the bars. The man behind her remained silent, and his wordless existence forced her teeth to grind.

"I... I'm fine. I just... needed a second to focus and get right. Tell me again. I want to understand."

"Your Benevolence, please, sit down. You're not being rational."

"Rational? You just stood there and told me I'm going to die soon. That some group of people want me dead so they could... what, ha—"

"Yes. They know who you are. They know what you are. Now that they know, they will stop at nothing to kill you. You are the only person standing between them and the Throne."

"Why did Father neglect to tell me this? Why did you? Why did I have to sit in the dark, unwitting to the role I was to play? You could've prepared for all this, but now I'm fumbling blind! Death is at my door! The curse is coming to take me next!"

She looks over the railing to the ground below.

"I could fix this right now. All I'd have to do is jump."

"It wouldn't work. She would find a new host, and the cycle would begin all over again. We can't chance the next host being like you; there are too many variables, and if the next person were to find out what they were playing host to and how it all connects, who's to say that the world wouldn't be worse for it?"</sup>

R E D M I R E , P R E S E N T D A Y

Who, indeed?

She stood in the center of the crowd, unassuming and still, her stare threatening to pierce steel. She had already clocked the new arrivals the moment they each arrived, one by one. Yet, there were still seven players that had not arrived to the table, as far as she counted, though some wouldn't arrive for quite some time.

Her silver eyes flicked over to the armor-clad knight that stood in the stands near the stage. Taking notice of the Eagles that lingered at his flank, she pored over the possibilities of the future. If what she was told was true, he would be difficult to kill; lesser men have tried. Hell, greater men have tried. Despite his injuries, here he was, still fighting the shadow of death that loomed over him. A worthy candidate.

Her head shifted, eyes following the ylva who had just emerged from the carriage not more than ten minutes prior. He was being accompanied by a Lammergeier. She didn't have experience with them, but she knew how strong they were. A thought formed—how strong would the Lammergeier be against the knight in the stands? How strong would both of them be against... him? As the pair passed behind the napes of many necks, the woman kept her gaze locked onto them, her head unmoving. She'd heard the ylva himself had trained with the Shepherds of Lune's Shelf, and even more so with one of the Adjudicators from the Guildroot Society. He had to be just as strong as the knight. He had to be. There was no settling.

Her eyes stopped at the stairs, her sight pushing past the structure and onto the carriage behind it, where she could see that short, stubby man lead the body of the princess out into the open. She cleared her throat reflexively, drawing the attention of a man next to her, who almost immediately turned around the moment he met her steely gaze. As she watched the princess approach the stairs, she began to wonder how long it would take for everything to become bedlam. This plaza would be nothing but chaos, screams, and fire soon, but 'how soon' was the question.

—————

———————————————

—————

Eliora approached the steps to the stage carefully, to no applause. More so, she was met with murmurs, overlapping words and conversations. She heard admonishments of her new rule, laments for the near future, bets on how long she'd survive. She fought the immediate future that attempted to cloud her mind with dark thoughts, putting on as genuine of a smile as she could muster. Shenley stood at her side, his legs stretching a bit farther as he lifted himself up the steps. He could feel the through seep through her fingers in slight vibrations, in the hand that grasped at his, begging silently to remain.

Her approach to the center chair, of all those that lined the back of the stage, was slow. She took in the sea of faces before her as she moved, each one just as unrecognizable as the next, save for one. Eliora wondered who among those in attendance would be the one to set the chain of events into motion, not that it mattered in the long run. She long knew her fate weeks in advance. All she had was the word of her most trusted advisor that fate could be changed. And with that realization, she suddenly found herself in the discomfort of that central chair, facing the world for what she'd hoped wouldn't be the last time.

It was odd. She wasn't used to seeing them from this angle.

—————

———————————————

—————

But, I am.

She watched the princess take her place in the chair on the stage, then closed her eyes. Somewhere behind her, she knew that sleazebag pseudo-criminal was lounging about, watching the proceedings with tepid interest, all to satisfy the whims of a lady that was, at one point, on his arm. She wondered how long it would take for him to notice that she slipped away. Surely he wasn't that daft, or maybe he was. Either way, the things she heard about him were partway interesting. As long as he kept his head on straight and actually pulled his weight, maybe he wouldn't be as useless as she had now thought. Time would tell.

It wouldn't be long now until the princess' retinue made their way to the stage. The coronation would be starting soon, just in time for him to arrive.

R E D M I R E O U T S K I R T S , O N E M I L E A W A Y

^{The crunch of soft grass beneath his boots was nearly rhythmic, evident of his slow march to the capital, but that would give way to a long, winding cobblestone road that marked a change in scenery. No longer was he surrounded by the trees that comprised, themselves, the encompassing forest that lined the ascent up to Redmire. With each step, he pulled himself further and further up the inclining path, watching it slowly shift into tiered steps. He had no reason to hurry. The energy he sensed was still beating strong from somewhere within the city, and nothing would change until he got there.}

What Are You Listening To?

Australian guitarist Bodine Wirihana is very little known, but one listen to his music will tell that he shreds like no one else.

His songs swing on a pendulum from thoughtful and emotive to chaotic and intense, but each one is carefully crafted to showcase his insane technical ability.

A House Tour

So glad you could make it. Not many people have taken a look at the house in a while, so to have some fresh faces pass through is a welcome sight. Apologies in advance, but the last person to take a tour of the house wasn't interested in buying it, and this house has seen a bit of disrepair that bears a cost too great to invest into. Luckily for you, the house is being offered at a steep discount. Follow along, but please watch your step and stay close. The floors have holes and the halls are dark.

This is the ______ room. Here, you can sit back and unwind, watch something on the CRT television, maybe congregate with others. The floor here is over a century old, though it's been covered over and built upon multiple times over the years, each time with a starkly different style. The trimming along the walls needs work; there were reports of mice, but exterminators have come through here multiple times, making sure that nothing that doesn't need to be here is here. Should you want to stay, it'll be just you and the house here. You can paint the walls any color you'd like, though it is advised you take care not to remove the wallpaper. The walls are fragile enough.

This is the kitchen. It's a bit small, but you'll be surprised—and maybe even excited—to know that the fridge is a lot bigger on the inside than you'd expect. You could fit quite a lot of food in here. There's also a mirror installed on the inside of the fridge, in case you want to look. The cabinets are made of oak and nailed directly into the studs, but you should watch your hands when feeling around inside each of them. There's an uncontrollable electric current that likes to shift between cabinets through the nails. It's low-power, so you don't have to worry about any lasting damage to your skin. There's also a door to the backyard right over there, but it's perpetually locked.

This is the dining room. Not much to say about this room, except that it's cramped. The table in this room runs end-to-end, but there's only one chair for the table itself. The others have disappeared one by one, leaving impressions in the rug that can't be vacuumed out, no matter how many times it's been done. You could buy more chairs if you'd like, but they won't last long in here.

This is the bathroom. Unfortunately, despite multiple cleanings, the bathroom has maintained a rather strong scent of iodine. Being in this bathroom for longer than 20 minutes might have an adverse effect on your eyes and throat, though nothing that would require medical attention.

You have reached the halfway point of the house tour. It is now time to head upstairs. If you feel a scratching, pulling sensation at your neck while we walk up to the second floor, do not be alarmed.

You'll notice, as we walk, that the photos in these picture frames have been left unchanged. Staring at them for too long may result in a building sense of unease, but the black ovals in these photos are harmless. Attempts to remove the photos have been made, but they are permanently fixed to the wall.

This is the upper floor hallway. You'll notice this hall has upwards of 20 doors, each with its own architectural style, but the only one that can be opened and occupied is the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. Touring that room is unnecessary, as the room is very small and contains a single twin-sized bed with a memory-foam mattress, the dent within it getting progressively deeper. Attempts to open all other doors in this hallway have only resulted in leading to the guest bedroom, despite the floorplan depicting much different bedroom designs.

Upstairs, we have the room. Formerly referred to as the attic, the room is the blurriest of all rooms in the house. It's dangerous to be in here for too long; you may be damaged by exposed nails in the wood. On any given day, you might find the room filled with notebooks. These notebooks are themselves filled with all manner of information, hastily written and rewritten ad nauseam. It is advised not to look through these notebooks when they appear in the room. Doing so might cause you to spend weeks in the room reading, affecting your eating habits, sleep patterns, and more.

If you look out the window, you'll see the backyard. The backyard stretches on for acres in all directions, one of the biggest in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, the grass is dead and the yard is filled with thorns. If you look in the distance, there is a single tree; also dead, but still standing. It likes to appear in different spots, but never far away from its home.

You have reached the end of the house tour, but there is one more room to show you.

This is the basement. The concrete floor here is wet at almost all times; don't worry, no mold. As you can see, in the middle of the basement floor, there is a hole. It is unknown how deep the hole is, but surveyors of the house have tried to gauge its depth by dropping stones into its recesses. Judging from the sound of the stone hitting the bottom, the hole is anywhere from 6 feet to 3,000 feet in depth, and this seems to change periodically. If you shine a flashlight at the wall in the hole, you'll see scratch marks and moist blood trails that never quite reach the edge of the hole. Despite this, there has been no evidence of any creatures inside.

The house tour is now complete. If you find this fixer-upper to your liking, the paperwork is ready to sign. You might have a bit of a difficult time ahead of you.

But, I promise the repairs are worth it.

What Are You Listening To?

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

E D W A R D

Between Mariana suddenly leaving, Bailey unable to establish her foothold in the conversation, and the encroaching realization that Father's personal assistant would, for some reason, be present at the will reading, Edward was starting to find the air in the Pool House a little suffocating. Undoing the top button of his shirt for a little freedom, Edward shifted onto his other foot, his body leaning towards the doors of the Pool House.

"Guest house it is, then," he resolved, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I don't intend on traveling all over the place; that's money I don't need to spend. If you don't mind, I'm going to try and drill it into Mariana's head that leaving probably isn't the best idea. Do us all a favor and pull yourselves together, though. We're Blackstones. Falling apart at the seams isn't what we're known for, so try to keep up appearances. God forbid I have to find out through some emotional breakdown that Father's dead because of one of you."

And there it was, the first volley. He looked around briefly, gauging their reactions to see if one of them could be culpable. Would it be his mother? A crime of passion, or lack thereof? Could it have been Katherine, clambering for even more power? She was already a CEO of a security firm under the Blackstone name. Perhaps she desired everything else within the umbrella. Bailey? Her timidness could be a facade. Who knows what kind of viciousness lay behind that pillowy veneer?

And Mariana—it didn't help her case that she decided to run off first chance she got. Pointing a finger was easy.

Edward didn't stick around to hear their rebuttals—there would be plenty of time to get their stories. Besides, he wanted to let them prepare so he could catch them off guard. That was the allure of it all, to let his opponents have all the time they needed to get ready, only for him to blindside their defenses in unexpected ways. It was the type of calculating, cold, creative exactness he was known for in his circles.

Crossing the threshold of the pool house and back out into the yard felt like teleportation, transitioning dimensions from a dark and foreboding hellscape into an idyllic paradise. Despite the gloom of dark clouds overhead, Edward felt more at home outside than anywhere else. Just the thought of it filled him with frustration. At some point, he'd need to go back home, deal with more suits, make more faces, become even more entombed in glass and stone and steel and asphalt. He liked the life he had because it was self-made, but his name carried more weight than he ever could, and even he knew that he wouldn't have what he did without it. Perhaps he should get it changed. Start fresh.

As he rounded the back corner of the manor wall and pushed through the gates, he caught notice of Mariana on the other side, waiting for her driver. She looked like she was losing grip on her emotions even from where he stood. Calming her down and making her see reason would be difficult, but he had to try.

"Hey," Edward started, hoping his voice would catch her attention.