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6 days ago
Current I mean, some people want to do it for the reason it’s supposed to be for, but it being all but outright mandatory, well.
6 days ago
@Ricky: I never thought about it like that, but it really can be, huh? I checked out the Mormons for a stint, and I can 100% see that being a reason behind them pushing that.
7 days ago
Tricks them into thinking it was their choice, when it was structured for them to fail.
1 like
7 days ago
The Amish doing that strikes me as a psychological way to keep people there. Isolate them > send them out > get culture shock > return to the comfortable rather than figure out a foreign culture.
3 likes
7 days ago
Ashifa: Shoving/forcing the religion on someone isn't what Christianity should be about. I'm sorry if/that that's what's going on for you.
4 likes

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Victoria let her head fall to her knees with a groan at the reminder of the many imminent dangers facing them. In the course of no more than a couple hours, she had gone from avoiding the supernatural world, to being shoved into a vat of boiling supernatural-infested water.
“Any ideas how to avoid adding to that list?” she muttered, before he asked for her understanding.
She groaned again as Alex finished, then exhaled, trying to calm the storm inside her. If she couldn’t stop the plummet to the water, she may as well try to turn the fall into a six-point dive.
Victoria replaced the necklace around her neck, her gaze on her knees. “What do we do now, then?” she asked, her voice flat.
Ryathane glanced up at every slight movement the elf made, his muscles tense and ready for action if she suddenly had a lapse in civility, but remained careful to not put any extra pressure on Aeylisia’s wound. So far, she had not adhered to the lore he had heard about her race, but one never knew. He could feel the tightness of her muscles beneath his touch. He could not help but feel pity for her condition. The wound looked bad, and he could imagine how much worse it must feel. Unless, of course, elves had a higher pain tolerance than humans, which was a good possibility.
He paused and made a gentle “huh” noise at how little she seemed to know about humans, before the healing rate she had given sunk in. A few days? The wound he tended to now would heal in only a few days? A hint of envy flashed in his eyes, replacing most of the pity he had felt.
“Take my word for it. That’s quicker,” he grumbled as he finished applying the liquid.
Satisfied that he had covered the entirety of the gashes, he placed the now soiled cloth on the ground and exchanged it for the needle and thread he had handed Aeylisia. Holding one item in each hand, he leaned back from the shadow of the tree to where a patch of moonlight filtered through the canopy above, and used it to easier thread the needle.
With motions all too familiar, he pulled the thread through a sufficient amount, swiftly pulled a dagger from his boot, cut the thread, and returned the weapon to its hidden sheath. He paused, giving the liquid an extra moment to take full effect and numb the wound more than just skin deep.
“You shouldn’t, but let me know if you feel anything. Never tested this stuff on an elf before.” With well-practiced motions, he slowly and carefully began suturing the cuts, their bleeding slowing faster than he expected. He kept a close eye on her reactions, watching for any signs of pain. “It works as a disinfectant, too.”
Questions ran through his head as he worked: After all these years, why would one of the elven race resurface now? Sure, he had caught her, but after so many years of no reliable reported sightings, it was a bit suspicious. Did the king know, really know, about their existence? If he did, how, and why did he want one? Did the elves know that they were wanted by royalty?
“So,” he said lightly, in part to pose as a distraction for Aeylisia, as well as in the hope he might get an answer to at least one of the many curious happenings of late. “What brought you to this forest, princess?” He smirked at the nickname, the action audible in his voice. “Sniff out a particularly tasty-smelling rabbit or something?”
Victoria gave a slow, almost frustrated sigh. “Yeah. Your friend told me about some of that. And your, uh, reformation. I know I haven’t even stepped foot in your world. I’ve tried to avoid it my entire life. Which was part of the point I was trying to make. That isn’t something that just magically goes away in a couple hours because you find out someone you--” She exhaled through her nose, not wanting to admit the thought aloud. “Someone you care about is a part of the world you’ve feared and stayed away from for almost fourteen years. You’re different. If you weren’t, I doubt I’d even be here to have this conversation. But every single instinct is yelling at me to run out the door. Change takes time.” She enunciated each of the last words carefully. “I would think you’d know that.” She glanced up to him from beneath the thin veil of her hair. She held her breath against the truth of what he was, her heart beating quicker at the visual reminder.
Have fun with that! xD
Victoria shook her head as Alex began, letting her hair fall slightly over her face as her vision blurred from tears she tried to suppress. Then came his “but.” She inhaled as he paused, her head tilting up ever so slightly.
She fingered her pendant when he spoke of his fear of finding out who he was. Rather, what he was. But that was a fear she understood to an extent. Even though he knew about her ability, she had still not told him for fear of pushing him away, that the way he looked and thought of her would change. And he was someone she could not bear to lose.
She blinked at him in surprise when he fell to his knees.
Victoria let a silence fall between them. Taking a few deep breaths, she sunk to the floor with her knees against her chest, her hand ever on the pendant. After a moment, she took another deep breath and took the pendant from around her neck, caressing it in her palms.
“Like your heart’s saying one thing, but your head another?” Her voice came in little more than a whisper. She exhaled slowly. “I’ve told you that my parents died in a car accident. A hit-and-run. With no witnesses. At least, that’s what all the reports say. But...” She faltered. “But that was just the easiest thing for them to put. The only truth in it is that their car stalled and they called my Uncle Frank for help.” She took another deep breath, her distant, watery focus on the pendant in her hands. When she spoke again, she only hoped Alex’s sensitive ears could hear her. “It was just after dark. They noticed someone at the side of the road, and my dad got out to help. But it wasn’t a human. When...” she took a shaky breath, “when things went bad, my mom got out to try to help fend it off, but they didn’t stand a chance. I was in the backseat. The only reason that vampire didn’t... didn’t kill me, too, was because my uncle pulled up and fired a few of his ‘special rounds’ at it. I’ve tried to forget it, to block it out, but...” She shook her head.
She took another deep breath, closed one hand around the encased rose, and wiped an escaped tear with the other. “You were the best thing that happened to me, Alex. When we weren’t together, I was thinking about the next time we would be. You’re... you were more than just my best friend to me, but...” She closed her eyes and bent her head slightly. She fingered the chain of the necklace and swallowed hard against a lump forming in her throat. “As different as you are, you’re... you’re still a vampire.
“And now if one does,” Thayva began, turning to a cupboard, “I’m blaming you, dear.” She opened the cupboard and took out two handle-less ceramic cups. She stepped to the counter where a bucket of water she had pulled from the well earlier that morning sat, and dipped the cups inside, filling them. Returning to Serapis, she drunk from one and offered the other to him.

* * *

Nick hurried to an open table, eagerly claiming it. Overjoyed to be among the first round of massages, he sat on it and stretched his back out. He chuckled through his nose as he noticed Jorn holding his masseuse up with his own late stretches.
A human girl who looked in her late twenties with her long black hair pulled up in a neat bun approached him. Nick swore she had some pixie blood in her, with her pointed nose, petite appearance, and rather short stature.
“Nick!” she greeted cheerfully as Nick laid down on the table, a slight Irish accent in her voice.
Then, of course, there was her elephant’s memory. If Nick did not know any better, he would say she knew the names of every orphan in the mansion better than even the headmaster and mistress.
“Last time I saw you, you were working on translating text, no?” She started rubbing Nick’s shoulders.
“Don’t remind me,” Nick muttered into the pillow, making the woman smile.

* * *

Kia glanced back at Laura’s comment before the dwarf had time to think on it.
“Oh, and I’m the one you think has something against a race?” Kia walked backwards a couple steps to one of the empty tables as her friends went to others nearby.
Other girls had already chosen a couple of the tables, all dressed in the standard high-cut sports-bra-like top, and a pair of short Kia had the suspicion were originally intended for use by the males, and were just tailored to fit the opposite gender. Except, of course for the lizardfolk with only their wrapped loincloths that made Kia thankful for the shorts, even if they were once intended for boys.

* * *

The dracon escorted the mute halfling to the massage room, the two trainers careful to keep the halfling and dwarf apart. They brought them to tables on opposite ends of the room.
In the time it took to get to the massage room, what he had done sunk in. The child dragged his feet, dreading the thought of what the dwarf might dish out to get back at him and regain the pride he had lost by losing a fight to a halfling.
Even so, knowing the dwarf got what he deserved provided a bit of comfort.
With the table already a bit lower than the others for the sake of ease for the halfling woman manning it, the child hopped on it without any aid, and laid down with a sigh. He gave only a nod or shake of his head as the masseuse tried to make conversation.
He swore he could feel the angry gaze of his rival from across the room, but that was a worry that could wait for twenty minutes.
Okay, so it wasn't actually established, then. I had something thought up, but wasn't sure if we had or not, so left that out.

I'll try to get a post up in the next day or so. I was going to do that today, but got distracted with a project that took a lot longer than I expected.
@kittyluna45

Tell me about it. *Rolls eyes.*

Ditto! And NORTHWOOD WILL LIVE!!

@Kirah

Stressful in a good way. *Ponders on that for a moment.* Give me a couple weeks stress-free and I might be capable of comprehending that. xD

Glad you've been working!
“…how you would react if I told you…”
Victoria snorted. “Because this was so much better,” she muttered.
Her lips pulled down in a scowl as Alex finished, and her gaze hardened. “Keep me safe, huh?” she growled. “Is that what these last few years have been about for you? ‘Keeping me safe?’” She glanced to him, anger swimming in her eyes, before she quickly looked away once more. “Is that why you befriended me? Because you knew what I can do, and wanted to keep an eye on me? How deep do your lies go?” She bit her lower lip and wrapped her arms around her midsection as the question that had been burning a dent in her brain now hung in the air between them. “I did trust you, Alex. More than anyone. But only fools knowingly trust a lie.”
Ryathane glanced to the pile of fabric that had once been Aeylisia’s skirt as she sat the sewing material down on it. At her pause between his question and her answer, he turned back to his pack and reached inside again. He stopped and looked to the elf when she gave her answer.
He chuckled through his nose at the formality of Aeylisia’s speech.
“At your service, princess,” he said mockingly with a smirk. “Do all your kind talk like stuffy royals?”
He nodded to the box still on the ground when she tried to hand the sewing materials back to him, indicating for her to set it there, then pulled out a scrap piece of fabric cut into a ragged rectangle of a washcloth from his pack.
He tossed the cloth into the lid of the box as the elf situated herself on her stomach.
“I could’ve gone to your other side, you know.” He pulled off his gloves and tossed them into his bag. He reached across her and grabbed his hooded scarf. Finding a spot not damp from her blood, he used it to wipe away what he could from the wounds to get a better look them, being as gentle as he could as he moved her leg slightly.
“Aren’t elves supposed to heal quickly?” he muttered more to himself than Aeylisia. He sat the scarf down and traded it for the cloth and bottle of liquid. With his cleaner hand, he shook the glass bottle, and a gentle blue color spread through the liquid. Unstoppering it one-handed, he poured a liberal amount of the contents onto the rectangular cloth. “This’ll sting a bit at first, but it’ll numb the skin and ease the pain.”
He dabbed the fabric over the wounds, shaking his head disbelievingly. He still could not believe he was helping an elf, of all things. Each time he blinked, he expected the woman to disappear, or to wake up back in the tree, none of his traps sprung.
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