Event:Week Seven, Class Arc |Location:Academy of Thaumaturgy, Ersand'Enise
Tasses:
Translated from Torragonese
Dear Diary,
After getting sand in every nook and cranny for the past week, now we are back in the classes. The classrooms are very humid compared to the dry desert air, and we can feel the sweat clinging to our bodies.
It didnât help that I had maths class in the morning. Was trying to avoid snoozing off and before long, resting my eyes involved heavy breathing and dropping my head to the desk. The teacher tried to be smart and catch me out, asking me to do percentages for RAS values, which were rather simple, though one Perrench boy was convinced he could rival Hugo with only a fifteen percent increase. He still didnât understand how he couldnât even break through to RAS 8 with that small of an increase.
Met Kaspar at luncheon again. He drew a picture of Varmkorvâs egg in charcoal. He is really obsessed with it and is fixated on using his native language, even around the picture. Pleased that he was able to get something tangible from the trip, he looked down whilst he was there. He is still eating his deconstructed sandwiches, so need to consider bringing a spare for him.
Specialisation classes went well. Supported Zemara in teaching the other students in Kinetic class. Got an opportunity to speak to Manfred von Hofmeister. Turns out he had a sister which disappeared, and let me know that Marceline is looking for her brother. He was tentative, but thanked me for the information.
Practised the splitting of chemicals into their constituent parts and re-arranging the formation. Already well versed in splitting, years of practising at home made sure of that, but formation was difficult. Managed to create a sweet smelling aroma of almonds, before being dragged away for not following correct safety guidance. Some people really do get hangry.
Parted with Zarina after class to attend to the horses. We managed to find a nice little corner in our respective accomodations rent. Gina looked happy and licked my hand when she saw me, searching for a tasty treat. She knows me too well already.
Pannes:
Translated from Torragonese
Dear Diary,
Thankfully Kaspar also turned up to drawing class with art supplies and having a reputation for painting watercolours covered for this school girl error. Still trying to adapt to the weather at the Academy as it disturbs my sleep, enough to make such a simple mistake. You would think Avincian class is simple, considering every subject is taught in the language. Imperator non supra grammaticos. Never forget: Parencii delenda est.
Took advantage of the luncheon and the free period to start having a preview at the set-up for the Society Faire and attend to some errands. After being told from a special birdy, decided to have a âspareâ Pasteis de Nata and offered to share it with Margot Maloise, the secretary in charge of student societies. Some small talk about the process, limits, pumpkinnickle society, and tasty treats. It seems she caught onto me, as she was unable to provide a favourite and rolled off a few options. Looks like we will need to add baking to the activities of the week.
Business class was interesting. Zarina, Ingrid and Trypano towered over Desmond, Kaspar, and myself. Got the opportunity to sit with Zazzy, though she used the whole period to discuss her fifty year business plan. It sounded very good, but Ingrid seemed disturbed by the conversation as she kept looking over, though she seemed heavily involved in her own discussions with Desmond. Kaspar and Trypano on the other hand appeared to not make a peep to each other, though their colour coordination of red made them look oddly familiar with each other. Perhaps Kaspar is into tall women?
Gina is always happy to see me. We had a nice ride together.
Orrades:
Translated from Torragonese
Dear Diary,
Ipte is my favourite god out of the five. Who wouldnât want to live in a beautiful world?
Got to spend the afternoon with animals. My friends Marci, Zaz, and Yalen were there too. Got to tell Marci about her brother, and she informed me that he has already reached out to her, and planned to meet up. That was a cheering moment. Tried to talk to Ismette, the yasoi girl, but she appeared to be far too preoccupied with the animals to notice me. Are all Yasoi so rude? Or are they simply that different from us humans, despite our similarities in appearance.
Nothing has been as relaxing as brushing through Ginaâs long white mane. The stress seems to just melt away.
Lendes:
Translated from Torragonese
Dear Diary,
Morning was statecraft sat next to the Feskan girl called Dory. She appeared to be very sweet like Spratz, though appeared to be lonely and down. Invited the other girl, Carmillia to join us as well. Her hair is like freshly fallen snow. The boys seem to huddle together, with Jomurr and Evander caught up in some heated exchange, whilst Benny was the third wheel. Introduced myself to the boys but they appeared to prefer not to have my presence around as they were heavily involved in their discussion. Dory was especially talkative once she opened up a little, and would have followed me into Music class if it wasnât for her realising she had a free period and wanted to be elsewhere.
Finally got an opportunity to have a chat with Jocasta! She seemed to have been incredibly busy since she returned to the academy, and appeared reluctant to reach out. Growing concerned that she may have fallen out with me. Her fingers are light on the harp.
Also, Laella would be incredibly jealous, got to have a jam session with Leon Solitaire! No opportunities to actually talk to anyone, as we had to communicate through our music, and once class ended, Leon disappeared through three separate doors at the same time. He is a strange individual.
Kidnapped Jocasta for luncheon before she rolled away, it was great to meet up with her. She has been spending a lot of time with the other tethered that came from the refuge, supporting them settling in. She is really good at looking after her siblings like that. Offered to help out, but she turned down the offer as not being required currently, but kept me in mind.
The afternoon was spent meeting gathered for the new and improved master-apprentice group. It certainly looked as if it was made for me, it was even titled the âLionâs Denâ as it was overseen by Joshe Intaba. The group is led by the zeno, Hamir Zemana, a fellow sonic-using fireblood.
There is one girl in the group which really caught my attention, Seung Eun-Ji, though prefers to be addressed by her surname, Eun-Ji. She reminded me a lot of Maura in how she was dressed and presented herself. Her skirt was so gorgeous that it was near impossible to draw my eyes away from it. The intricate pattern of the white flowers upon the sky blue cloth was different in its manufacture from anything produced in Torragon. Made it my personal mission to befriend her.
Caught up with Silas and Manfred. Silas thinks he has found a buyer for his venom gland and was going to pitch with a hard sell. Manfred informed me about how it went with meeting Marci! Eun-ji seemed to be even more reserved when talking to the boys, perhaps she has a problem with groups.
So what was not to love about the group? Casii entered the room. Perhaps it is the Pentadâs way of testing me. However, weâre going to use the opportunity to befriend the Yasoi girl and show that those stereotypes about them are plain wrong and judgemental! Hopefully.
Told Gina about my new class and the friends being made there. She is happy for me.
On the way back to my room, got diverted by the queues to Ingridâs dining party. She has this strange system of allocating everyone a slot to speak to her privately. It does help with making sure to spend a precious moment with the guests. She was very sweet, would like to speak to her more.
Blancho:
Dear Diary,
Plan to write in you today was side-tracked due to the following: They're coming to the academy. *scribbled mess underneath writing*
âDear Ayla,
We hope that you remember that your attendance to the academy is to represent the interests of House Arslan and the Empire of Torragon. You are not there for your personal amusement.
We are not so far removed from having not learnt about your truancy, and we are most dissatisfied with this outcome. Your placement at the academy is being personally requested at the insistence of King Sancho, and you failed to pay the appropriate respect and homage to show our dedication to the crown which we were held personally responsible for. If not for the benevolence of the crown, we would recall you to Varrahasta and handle our affairs internally.
We have given you far too much free reign over these years, and your defiance wonât be tolerated for much longer. If it were not for your physical and mental feebleness, we would have put an end to this farce but we are afraid we might have spared you the rod for too long.
In this vein, we are coming to the academy to remind you of your duties. You are expected to have found us suitable accommodation within the city. We expect it to be situated by the academy, on green grounds, as the sole occupier, that is benefitting a family of your status.
By the time you have received this letter, we will have departed from Varrahasta. I trust you will have this matter resolved by the time we arrive.
For now,
Duque Duarte Arslan Casa Arslan del Torragon, Guardian del Varrahasta, Protector del RĂo Arapor, Warden del Reserva Natural de Arapor, Keeper de la BasĂlica la Llama Sagradaâ
Ayla is going to be distressed over this letter. We would want you, her friend, to help her get the preparations in order to host the Arslan family. Those who are Aylaâs friends will have the opportunity to join a collab involving Aylaâs family from Varrahasta. There are no current IC rewards planned, but there may be room for opportunities depending on what you would want. Primarily this is simply an opportunity to take part in a fun RP.
Ayla's first week back at work and the shenanigans involved in that, making new friends along the way. Ayla got a letter from her father. Help!
Kaspar @Wolfieh, Zarina @YummyYummyEvent: Return to the Academy, Class Arc |Location:Academy of Thaumaturgy, Ersand'Enise
One Month Ago:
âThree fours.â
Called out a feminine yet somewhat deep voice among the chattering that reigned in the student lounge in the merchantsâ quarters. With only these two words, one could distinguish a thick Virangish accent. It was Zarina, sitting before a square table with five of her female peers, all of which were of either Torragonese, Inipori or her own nationality. They were playing a game known as âDudoâ in Torragon with wooden chips used as wagers. âFour fours.â one of four players announced, essentially raising the bid. The tall, sun-kissed lady of the group raised an eyebrow, âBold.â she raised the upside-down cup before her to get another gander of the dice under it before clicking her tongue.
âFour fives.â a torragonese girl added, getting a few surprised reactions from the others. Zaina took a sip from her small coffee cup right by her game cup. Everyone had one of those, actually, with a still warm kettle resting near the pot of tokens in the centre, âGonna call Sereza a liar, Fatima? Câmon.â the Virangish teen smirked, a hand supporting her chin as she leaned in to apply a bit more pressure to her neighbour whose turn it was.
Although as the game was about to progress, a regular member of the group, Isabel, had arrived and made her presence known to the entire lounge, âAh, there she is!â without fault, Zarina pointed right at the late arrival with a bright, toothy smile before gesturing for her to come, along with her plus one, âAnd whoâs this lost little cub?â her golden hues directed themselves toward the little Torraro noble and narrowed into an almost fox-like squint, âWelcome.â
Ayla moves with grace as she leans towards the woman greeting her first of all. She takes her hand within her own as she places a pat upon it. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, you may address me as Ayla." She gives the hand a squeeze before breaking contact, then starts to greet the others the same manner, much to their amusement, as she casts eyes upon the game in front of them all, âIt seems that much happiness is to be had here, may one partake?â.
Zarina blinks at the sudden contact made by the torragonese lass, certainly not expecting such an approach, although it did little to make her smile falter, âMy my, proper arenât we, Ayla?â she leans against her chair, one leg over the other, and her vixen gaze now turned into a more focused, almost viper-like one, âIâm Zarina.â a small gesture of her previously held hand invited the others to surrender their cups and dice as they were going to start again while the others were introducing themselves.
âYou are absolutely welcome to, love. I assume you know how to play?â the more predatory gaze has since mellowed into a calmer, half-lidded gaze that was shared among the members of the circle, though the newcomer still got a disproportionate amount of attention, especially as the free seat was set opposite of the ringleader, âFive dices, up the bid or choose a higher face, oneâs are wildcards.â she wooden cup is filled with the appropriate amount of dice, and each member is given one, for a total of five players this time around.
Zarina peeks into her own cup for barely a second before looking up at the new guest, âCoffee, little Ayla?â she reaches for the metal jug, still warm with the faintest trace of steam emitting from it, and begins to fill a cup that she then slides over to the noble girl âCare to start too?â
Ayla simply follows along with the instructions, rolling the dice upon the table with the cup. The dice scattering in an unceremonious manner upon the table with much of a chuckle, "The dice read 5, 5, 3, 2, 2". The statement is left hanging as if awaiting further explanation or instruction. She uses the moment to look towards the steaming brown elixir, her hands moving to cup along the ceramic sides, bringing the liquid to her lips. Her face probably looking in disgust as her taste buds are suddenly overwhelmed with the bitterness, keeping the container up to attempt to hide her features whilst waiting for an explanation.
Zarinaâs eyes just followed the rolling dice. She nodded with a grimace that exaggerated how âimpressedâ she was, âWow, you really know your stuff.â she snorted while her posse giggled in tandem, âI assume youâve never played Dudo? It is a game from Torragon, pretty popular among sailors.â she smirked, âAnd pirates.â the Virangish girl reaches out for the dice and gestures for Aylaâs cup to be returned, âThe dice is your hand, yes? Keep it to yourself.â
The cup was passed to the lion cub, âYou announce your bid. Two threes? If there are two threeâs on the table, your bid is covered.â her turquoise nails drum against the wooden surface before her, âBut should Fatima deem you to be a liar, and your bid isnât covered,â she flicks one of the dices on the table, causing it to fly off to the corner of the room, âYou lose a dice. If your bid is covered, she does! Simple enough?â she tilts her head before gesturing for Ayla to begin again, âBut given weâre five, letâs say the cost is now ⊠Two dice!â
Ayla nods in acknowledgement, simply putting the dice within her cup and begins her roll again, the cackle of the dice within the cup is very audible, with a very good shake she comes to a stop, placing the top upon the table. She tries to manoeuvre the coffee cup to act like a shield as she tries to peek, seemingly mouthing the dice as she sees them, giving a big smile as she turns to Fatima, those sapphire eyes gleaming. "Foresee there being six 4âs on the table." Socially passing the baton to Zarinaâs companion to make the next move as she gestures towards her.
A small gesture from Zarinaâs hand had the metal jug levitate over Aylaâs cup, meticulously tipping it to fill it up again, âCheeky little cat, arenât you?â she chuckled in amusement while Fatimaâs eyes widened a little. Nervous peeks under her cup punctuated the awkward silence that was prompted by the outrageous bid, âUhm ⊠Seven Six?â the anxious Fatima posed, which got Zarina to raise an eyebrow, as it was her turn.
A quick peek under her cup confirmed one thing: She had no six, but she had two ones, "Putting me in quite the corner already, you two." she pointed her index toward Ayla and Fatima, wiggling it a little in a playful manner, "Nine sixâs." she solemnly posed before resting her gaze on the newcomer, "Am I a liar, Sereza? Or maybe Ayla has an issue with my bid?" and then she smiles.
Ayla ponders for a moment, then simply smiles. âYou seem to be trustworthy. Raise you ten 5âsâ. She pushes the almost empty coffee cup towards Zarina, as if gesturing to top it up from the jug after she has just taken in a nice long draw, a challenging gesture, as if the lion cub is roaring proudly towards the group in defiance.
Zarina squinted, although her smile persisted, âYou are a funny one.â she tilts her head to peer over at her neighbour, Isabel, âSo?â she then leans in, adding even more pressure to her friend, âLie? I think youâre lying, Ayla.â she somewhat confidently announced, which in turn prompted everybody to reveal their cups. Zarina had two oneâs and a five, Sereza had two fiveâs and Fatima had one âoneâ and one five, totalling seven already. When Isabel revealed herâs, sheâd show neither one nor a five, bringing it to eight. All eyes were on Ayla now, âWell, well, all pressure is on you, little Ayla.â Zarina leans her chin over her palm, âI gotta say, I respect the ballsiness.â
Ayla frowned at the accusations levered before her. She lifts her cup up to reveal a 1 and two 5âs. âIt appears there was a mistake, there were eleven 5âs on the tableâ. Ayla looks towards Zarina, gazing within her eyes, her frown of disappointment attempting to hide that smile, as she indicates to her cup, âIf we are going to continue, my drink is required to be refilledâ.
Zarina scoffed at Aylaâs display of attitude, which only contributed to the Virangish girlâs amusement, âYouâre something, Iâll give you that.â first thingâs first, Isabel had clearly lost this round and thus was taxed not one, but two dice. But before the tall teen could get on to rewarding the Torraro winner with some more coffee, a bell resonated through the entirety of ErsandâEnise, indicating a new period had started and some electives were starting. Which meant most of the group had to disperse, leaving only the head of the group and the tiny newcomer.
âUsually people hate their first coffee.â she remarks as the levitating metal pot pours the hot beverage into the cup for a third time, âEither youâve got REALLY good taste, or youâre trying too hard to look cool.â she gives the noble a very keen, soul-piercing gaze with her eye as her head had turned ever so slightly so she could properly arrange the cups and dice, âHow about you ânâ I have a game?â her golden gaze was now focused on tidying things up, âWinner gets a small bag of nice, Virangish coffee beans. Well, you get mine if you win.â she smirked, peering up to see how the lioness would react.
Ayla smiles in sweet sincerity as she returns the gaze warmly, "Received your interest". She slides her hand over towards Zarina own, the fingers latching upon the bottom of the dice cup, clawing the dice towards her as the top runs along the table with that telltale scratch. She rolls the dice, planting the top of the cup down upon the table, and only with a quick check of the roll, âFour 4âsâ. She brings the coffee cup within her hands, as she drinks deeply, as her eyes stare deeply into Zarina from above the lid of the cup.
With her elbow over the edge of the table and chin rested over her palm, Zarina lifted her own cup once it had a good shuffling. She shared the focus in her gaze that Ayla was displaying, mimicking the little oneâs indulgence and then refilling her own glass with the increasingly lukewarm drink, âDonât kid yourself, this place gets dull very fast. Fresh blood gets a few heads turning.â the cup was then set back to hide her hand, âFive threes.â she announces solemnly before taking another sip, âSo what drags you here from the Blue quarters, eh? In need of some adventuring or rebelling like half you folks do?â
Ayla nurses the cup within her hand as she looks down towards her, the playfulness disappearing. "Was instructed to come here, because my father didnât want to lose my brother. Dispensable compared to him. Looking for somewhere which reminded me of home, it is sorely missed". Appears to be ignoring the game at this point, bringing the ceramic cup to her lips as she drinks upon it, her eyes gazing low as if looking beyond the table. She replies as if reluctantly willing to engage, "Five fours".
With the game slowing down, Zarina tilted her head just a tad before conferring a dull stare to the noble girl spilling her heart out, âRight.â a loud tap on the table punctuated that singular word, âWhat makes this place any more comfortable than your own quarters, then, little Ayla?â she then taps the top of her cup with the same hand that frequently drummed over the table, ââCause last time I checked, weâre just as snooty as your pompous deadbeats in blue-ward.â the dullness of her expression quickly shifted to a jolly one as she begins to laugh, âCanât make friends among the great birthrights of Erd-SandâWeenis?â she snorts at her own badness, âSix threes.â she adds as if it were an afterthought, although just how much she thought of it was purposefully kept discreet in all the chatter.
Ayla has never thought of thinking about it so thoroughly, because to her, the obviousness posed made it seem like a given, though is aware that not all places are the same. "Varrahasta is the city of my birth, the lapping sea, bustling port, and even dice games like this. Far removed from âthe blue quarterâ ", she does give a wry smile as she plays down how much she knew at the beginning. It wasnât a malicious deception to win the game, she knew that appearing weak and vulnerable allows others to drop their guard, giving better opportunities for some friendships to be made. "Would like to request an alternative prize", speaking back to the topic of the game, "One always prefers to share a drink with a friend."
Zarina traced the tip of her nail around the edge of the upside down cup, her eyes peering down at it while her adversary was sharing her origins, âVarrahasta.â she repeated, again punctuating that single word with a tap, this time on the cup, âIâve been there before. Know a few folks there too.â now she adjusted her posture, crossing her arms before her and resting them on the edge of the table so she could support her upper-bodyâs weight. Her Hexaic pendant hung more obviously in that position, dangling about and contrasting less with her darker attire, âBut weâre sharing a drink already, no?â her hand was in the right position to seize her cup, and she lazily raised it as a âtoastâ before indulging, âBesides, there needs to be at least some stakes, donât you agree? It ups the ante in a fun way, I find!â
Again, she peeked under her cup, only to purse her lips, âAyla, Ayla, Ayla âŠâ Zarina clicks her tongue, âAyla. Generally the higher status likes to flaunt their lineage.â she smirks, âIf I win, you tell me your name.â she pauses and cranes her head to the side for a moment in her pensive silence, âAnd if you win, Iâll tell you mine.â
The Torragonese girl simply smiles gently, after all, an exchange of names is how one establishes a friendship. "If you desire a noble's lineage, the best way to find out is to question it", the corner of her mouth flickering slightly as she mused. "Miss Zarina, I have fours, you have threes, I cannot raise. My only option would be to call". She taps upon the top of the dice cup, gazing into those golden eyes. "How about we both walk away winning. We exchange names".
Zarina raises her hand, âJust Zarina. Please.â her fingers then curl and prompt a couple of small cracks, âCalling.â she chuckles, âYou know your stuff. And acting all naive too. It would also rub some the wrong way. Like oneâs attempting to cheat them.â her eyes widen and stare right into the lazulite gaze of the other, âAre you trying to trick me, little Ayla? Make me feel safe in this little truce?â the Virangish girl bites the tip of her own tongue while glancing down at the table before her, âOr maybe youâre just a little sweetie. Or; like every person worth a damn, have more than one facet. More than a one-trick pony.â she chuckles.
The cup is tipped over, revealing 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, âIâll be taking that precious name.â she confidently states while staring at her adversaryâs cup, but then raises her golden gaze, âBut if you ask nicely, Iâm always willing to share with friends.â
Ayla bit her lip and looks a little troubled as Zarina confidently boasts her victory, and it wasnât the threat of impending loss, it was the opposite which concerned her. She could tell the Virangish girl was proud, and softening could always make it worse, that would be a real deception. âFriendship is a bond between two people, and one must be willing to share. My name is Ayla Arslan, my ancestor is the great âLion of Torragonâ.". She moves her hands to lift up the cup, revealing the displayed dice underneath to Zarina, she had rolled 1, 3, 4, 4, 4. âBest outcome in a negotiation is where both parties gain a favourable outcome, both sides feeling satisfied with their win. Let's win this together, please help me make this happen."
The name was uttered, Zarina had been given the prize she wanted, âThe adorable little cub of house Arslan.â she grins as the results were in, looking very satisfied with the victory, âVery difficult to get anything done in Torragon without passing through Varrahasta.â she raises her hand to gesture, as if explaining a scheme of sorts, âAnd to get through the port, you gotta go through the proper authorities. And one of the big ones is the Lions.â she continued as she slowly stood up, âVen.â she ordered the little cub with her gesturing hand performing a singular upwards wave to encourage a hasty reaction. Her Torraro accent was on point, and easily determined by that one word, especially with how she pronounced the âVâ.
As she walked, it appeared as though she was aiming for the student loungeâs couch, and she just lazily dropped her rear on it with a complete lack of elegance, âYou know, pequeña leona, your mindset makes sense in commerce. Itâs not really about dominating or glory when business is involved.â she exhales from her nostrils while the hoving coffee jug slowly levitates toward her, âBut the thrill of a game is to come out on top. Or at least try to get those feelings. Itâs not like weâre winning some big prize. Weâll know our names one way or another.â she rests one leg over the other and adjusts her posture to be less taxing on her back, âAnd itâs just more fun!â
Ayla isnât sure of the moral of the story as she finds herself far removed from the gaming table, but it seems that her tactic seems to have paid off as Zarina is acting satisfied with this outcome. She follows behind her as she listens to the words, she is reminded of when her father approaches this topic, âthis is a cat eats cat world, and the lions are the strongestâ.: "Who wrote the law that to come out on top, there needs to be a loser?", she retorts, posing the question as purely rhetorical, and gently moves the topic, "and in these schemes, which family should we provide safe passage to?", this question poised and inviting Zarina to share her name.
âI did. The winner.â she winks, clearly joking, âThey say I get a little competitive at times. And they also say I donât have the best temperament for it.â she pushes her lips out in a light pout, âAnd theyâre kinda right. But, it feels good to win, sometimes, or at least win MORE than others. I just gotta learn to lose more.â she chuckles, tapping a spot next to her, âCome. Relax. While the lounge is tranquil.â
Then came the elegantly asked question of Zarinaâs identity. The way it was formulated brought a toothy smile to her face, âYou wonât see our name on many ships or cargo. But you will hear our name in any paper trail leading back to Gandakar ⊠Well, at least if horses are involved.â she smirks, âEver bet on an Al-Nader horse in the races, Ayla of house Arslan? We have our ways to get the very best from Torragon.â she fills Aylaâs coffee cup once more via her magnetic magic.
Ayla does tend to find that the cooled coffee doesnât have the best taste as she does use some arcane magic to start gently heating up the jug. She positions herself as guided, listening to the words, her thoughts drawing back home as she starts to think about her horse back in the stables. Beautiful horse, with a long mane which trailed down the left side, spending hours combing through it, though the best times are during the Carnival, where the mane would be adorned with ribbons, parading down the street as she rode upon it during the celebration. "Are you an equestrian yourself?", posing the question as she gazes towards her.
Zarina turns her body to lean on her side, one arm over the couch and the opposing hand over her own thigh. Her gaze was dedicated to her new friend and she listened with great intrigue while giving a thumbs up for the heated awake juice, âThank you very much, kitty cat.â she winked before taking a sip from the freshly heated beverage, âOh me? Definitely. The Dreamer only knows how many hours Iâve spent with my Riesco.â that name in particular would be graced with a thick and proper Torraro accent, âA gorgeous grey stallion. Mmm~ It truly feels special when youâre the only one that can ride your one special horse, donât you think?â she then nudges her chin forward, âAnd you?â
Ayla could empathise with Zarina, her very own Palomo is very dear to her heart. "Perhaps we shall mount the saddle and embark upon a journey together.â The lion cub offers Zarina an invitation for when an opportunity arises.
Aberration Madness: Previous Post. Refuge Horse Ride: Posted by Zarina @YummyYummy
The desert has definitely taken its toll over the last week, with sand getting absolutely everywhere. It is no surprise that most of the students ended up back in their dorms to have a bath and soak their troubles away. As Ayla was leaving the study, and attempting to negotiate the impossibility of getting her haul through the doorway, she notices Kaspar who has appeared after she lost track of him. âKaspar! There you are. Letâs meet up for dinner, it is very important.â
Kaspar turned, crimson eyes tired but bemused at his friendâs predicament. Ayla seemed to have won quite a few prizes in the auction, and despite the troubles he was sure she was pleased with the haul. Sheâd even made away with three froabas eggs, the only item in the group he had seriously considered bidding on. He felt something nearing regret or envy, though not quite strong enough to be considered such; heâd focused on watching others claim trophies with no interest in any for himself, and it was an opportunity lost. But the boy was not one to dwell too severely, and theyâd only been in Hugoâs care for a short time; there would be other prizes, though perhaps not dragon eggs. Taking a few paces back, offering hands as they might be needed, he replied softly, âI would be amiable to dinner.â He paused for a moment, calculating time in his head, and continued, âBy the fountain in the Nobleâs Dormitories, near two Eshiran?â
Ayla hasnât even looked at the clock since arriving, but she trusts Kasparâs judgement, âBy the fountain it is, you owe me a nice picnic.â She gives him a big teasing smile before she starts to question her life choices as she ends up with over 100 Wyrm scales, and trying to find out what she can do with them. She goes to attempt to negotiate with Hugo, who was currently far less than impressed with the load crowding his study.
Though he knew Aylaâs remark about the picnic was teasing, Kaspar was not one to disappoint. He was quick to bathe and had visited the marketplace. As he neared the fountain, just a few minutes early, he carried a small woven basket with hard cheese and fresh bread, and a small common melon that seemed to come from a group that ripened a bit too early for the Melon Derby. His thick cloak had returned to his shoulders and his clothes were once again close-fitting reds and blacks instead of the loose pale fabrics he had returned in.
Ayla came down looking far more refreshed than she did in the desert, wearing those more luxurious outfits as she typically did around the academy, though noticeably seeming more dressed up than normal. She wears a semi-transparent veil as she smiles towards Kaspar, approaching him. It appears she has brought some food with her as well. â Hoping you may still have room for dessertâ, she indicates towards the woven bag she is carrying.
As he stopped beside the girl, Kaspar offered out the basket for her to deposit the bag in, if she would like. âSo long as you have room for some melon,â he responded with a small smirk. He turned, angling towards where the arboretum lay beyond the dorms, and glanced towards Ayla. âWould you like to eat near the lake, or did you have elsewhere in mind?â
âAs long as you remember Mallowâs tribute, he should leave us alone if we go to the lakeâ, she offers her arm out towards Kaspar, gesturing for him to take it as lead the pair of them towards the still waters. âMy face feels like it still has moisture in this humidity. Could swear that my skin was ageing by the hour out upon those sands. Poor Jocasta looks like she is in her twentiesâ.
Kaspar started towards the Arboretum, shifting a few items aside in the basket to pacify the demon goose, should they encounter it. He nodded in sympathy as she talked about the desert heat, offering, âErsandâEnise was too warm for my liking when I arrived here. Now, I think perhaps it is not so bad.â He shuddered in mock dread at the reminder of the desert heat, the individual furs on his cloak trembling. Looking to Ayla and scanning her face, he narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment before speaking, âI do not think the sun was so bad for your skin. You were twenty-five when you came here, yes?â Though the words seemed genuine, a teasing glimmer flashed through his eyes.
Stands still for a moment as she blinks towards Kaspar, in horror at the boys suggestion, before seeing the glimmer of a tease. She hits at his arm, clearly playful but the boy could have taken it anyway even if it was not. âWe were going to have a nice time and had something special planned, then you had to say that. Going to take it al back now, and but rotten this entire picnic. Going to give Mallow your portion of the dinner.â She dips her hand into the basket to pull out a random piece of bread and throws it out towards the water for the goose to eat. She breaks the arm not to storm off, but go lay down the blanket for them to sit down upon.
Kaspar sways dramatically at the punch, though it was dampened even further by the thickness of his cloak. âI do not know that Mallow has better manners than I do,â he replied thoughtfully, adding, âBut if you would prefer to dine with him, I think perhaps I can lead him over.â The offer was, of course, teasingâthough there was every chance the boy might try to bribe a goose if his friend showed a genuine desire to dine with it. As Ayla began to spread out the blanket, he knelt to lay out the food theyâd brought, leaving the melon in the basket in the center so it couldnât roll away.
Ayla still hasnât fully forgiven him, but did start helping herself to some of the cheese and bread, using the various bits and pieces to create something resembling what she is more currently used to. She also had to navigate the issue of wearing a veil and trying to eat at the same time, choosing to unfasten it so she can enjoy the food. âYou did very well with that Froabas Matriarch, we were able to subdue it in time because of you.â She looked over to him as she examined his features, and appeared to be mostly in tack. âYou appeared to be very troubled this last week too, it seemed the heat really got to you.â She tries to create some small talk as she shows an interest towards to boy, wondering if she could encourage more from him, appealing to his good deeds, even his vulnerabilities.
Kaspar observed Aylaâs methods of eating, himself preferring to simply take a bite of one food and then the other. As she mentioned the alpha froabas, the barest hint of pink tinged his cheeks and he glanced out towards the lake, observing it rather than meeting her eyes. âI mostly followed Zarinaâs lead. Iâm not⊠very adept, with chemical magic. But itâs what all ElstrĂžms learn. It just seemed like what should be done,â he offered quietly, ignoring the way the ElstrĂžm name sat uncomfortably on his tongue. âThe desert was⊠unusual, and difficult. I learned things, and faced things Iâve never had to face before.â Most would likely assume he meant the various dangers, and Kaspar was more than happy to let even Ayla think that; and while they were certainly part of it, there had been much more personal matters to contend with, and he was still unsure how to approach themâor if he ever should.
Ayla has an amused thought as she smiles brightly, âSurely the sand getting everywhere was not that bad.â She cannot help but giggle, having the mental image of poor Kaspar being tortured as he tries to get the sand from out of his clothing, only to be greeted by more sand. Endless sand. She moves her hand upon his as she sees him reaching for another bite, the boy eating the equivalent of a deconstructed sandwich, as if trying to make a fashion statement. She pauses him as she starts to assemble a treat for him, putting it together then bringing it up towards his lips. âNow bite~â, doing an instinctive opening of her own mouth to draw upon his urge to mirror her response.
âThe sand was terrible,â the boy bemoaned dramatically, reaching for another chunk of cheese. Aylaâs hand found his, then, and he flinched in the second they made contact, but didnât draw away, letting his hand still and hoping she didnât notice the reaction or the way his fingers shook ever so slightly. He watched in confusion as she brought the food to his mouth, but took a bite of it regardless. Kaspar didnât seem to understand why she did this, but brought a piece of bread towards her mouth as well. â...Eat?â he offered, clearly perplexed but giving in to what he assumed was a dinner ritual of sorts.
Ayla definitely knew now he didnât know what she was gesturing about. She could not help but laugh at his response, and responded the only way one would, opened wide to nom upon it aggressively, with even ânomâ sound effect, as if playfully mocking the rough manner he was eating his food, probably even to the boy's surprise. She gently moved away the assorted item she crafted for him with the cheese, vinegar and bread, as she placed it down upon his plate. âDonât worry Kaspar, we will make a noble out of you yet.â She beams brightly as she leans in very closer, moving a napkin as she smudges away the bit of food upon the corner of his lips. âThere we are!â.
Kaspar was certainly not expecting his friend to laugh, and found himself thoroughly confused by the proceedings, but willing to take it good naturedly. As she nomed the bread heâd offered aggressively, the boy felt for a moment the memory of the one and only time heâd tried to feed Mallow by handâand whispered, in mock awe, âYou eat like the goose.â He bit his lip then, realizing it was perhaps not the most flattering remark to make, but could not deny the similaritiesâand was completely oblivious to his own. Her next statement, though, startled the boy, and a mask of neutrality briefly but quickly fit onto his face before he realized she was joking, mocking his manners rather than making some statement of his birth. Softly, with a sheepish glance away, he remarked, âThereâs a reason Iâm taking etiquette classes. It was not the most⊠prevalent study of my youth.â He looked back just in time to see her nearing, and froze as she reached a hand out. Feeling the napkin quickly dash away some remnant of food, he swallowed heavily and stuttered, âTh-thank you.â
Ayla couldnât help but attempt a honk at being called a goose, though followed it up with one of her remarks, âPerhaps you should draw me like one of your geese thenâ. She simply smiles as she removes the crumb, looking into his eyes deeply as she replies with that sheepish thank you, âYou can thank me after your dessert. You should get it out.â She looks towards him mischievously but with a friendly smile, her eyes moving to the basket to encourage him to open it up.
Kaspar pulled the bag into his lap, noting its heft and shape. He glanced at Ayla, noticing the mischievous glimmer in her eyes, and wondered for a moment if sheâd also brought along a melon. Pulling open the fabric and grasping the object inside, he pulled it out, eyes widening as he revealed the reddish, banded shell of one of the froabas eggs she had returned with. He cradled it carefully, looking between the egg and Aylaâs face. He swallowed again, and then asked softly but with a touch of concern, â...We are not actually going to eat the egg, yes?â
Somehow, Ayla expected that response, giving him one of those looks with the raised eyebrow, âThat egg is far too precious for it to be eatenâ. She moves up beside him as Kaspar is busy examining the egg, leaning in to peck him upon the cheek then fastening her veil back up. âWell done on now being a proud owner of a Froabas. These ones are rare, and often mistaken as being alpha froabas, You got to take good care of it, and definitely not selling or trying to pawn it off.â she gives him a playful thump to the arm on the last point as if it was a threat.
Kaspar breathed a small sigh of relief, settling the egg into his lap as he studied it. He started a little at the peck on his cheek, not having noticed how close the girl had gotten, but offered an appreciative smile. âThis would be a beautiful subject to paint, I am sure,â he offered, voice quiet as though trying not to disturb the eggâs inhabitant. The boy then glanced up, crimson eyes wide, and whispered, âYou are⊠You are gifting this to me? I⊠I cannot repay you.â Part of him felt he should hand the egg back to her, but the rest of him simply didnât want to let go of it. He lowered his cheek against the shell, gasping in fake admonishment as Aylaâs fist once against connected with his arm. âShh, donât hurt the baby,â he whispered dramatically. Cheek still pressed softly to it, he murmured in the ElstrĂžmsâ native tongue, â...Varmkorv? Ja, Ă€r det bra?â
Ayla smiles as she moves her hand down to stroke upon the egg herself as well. âYes, make sure to look after our baby now. Make sure it is wrapped up room and snug, and⊠âŠâ, she goes into the basket to pull out a leaflet as well, discussing Fireflies. âMake sure to sign up for this society too. They will help teach us on how to raise these babies.â
She sits back as she smiles widely at the pair, watching how Kaspar seems to love his gift. âNext time you decide to sleep, remember to make sure it isnât when they are auctioning off dragon eggs, or little Varmkorv here might have ended up in hot water.â
Kaspar chuckled, already trying to manoeuvre off his cloak to wrap the banded egg in. The fur was soft and warm, and would serve well for protecting it until they returned to the dorms and he could construct a proper nest. He took the pamphlet as well, eyes scanning through it as Ayla spoke. Chuckling, he replied, âI remember the fire. I think Varmkorv may not have minded hot water.â Turning towards her with genuine gratitude in his eyes, he added, âI will join this club, so long as youâll be there with the others. We will be familj, ja, if they are syskon? It is the best way.â
Ayla offers a bright smile, âOne big happy Familiaâ.
Part 1: Ayla and Zazzy meet for the first time! Ayla totally beats Zazzy at Liar's dice. OOC Note: Ran a few games online to see how it would play out in the RP. It was terribly one-sided in my favour. Ayla tries to negoitate a win-win with Zazzy, using those skills. Zazzy takes the win for friendship.
Part 2: Ayla and Kaspar go on a totally not a date 'date'. They have their innocent chat. Kaspar gets a dragon egg! He calls it Varmkorv. Kaspar is more obsessed with the egg than anything else. Ayla got abandoned for the Egg. Boys and their toys.
Asier was at least provided a blanket upon the final leg of the journey south as even the sea had lumbering mountains of ice as the approach the homeland of the Eskandr. What surprised him was more the familiarity of such a place, where the city hasnât been overtaken by stone but wood, closer to the traditional tourrare yurtâs, outside the more established fortifications upon the steppes.
Despite the constant torment, the Eskandr have actively tried to keep him alive on the way there, being one of the lucky ones when it came to consistently being fed and well treated, and in the cooler climate, they kept him by the mast, a little too close to the small fire, but this kept him warm as he listened to the stories and conversation of the others, picking up the odd word and phrase from their interactions.
As the longboat approached the port, there were crowds starting to appear as news of their arrival brought excitement and those eager for the latest from the war. Crowds brought opportunities he aimed to take advantage of. As the men on the boat go to greet their loved ones, and bring out what treasure remained after the Eeiako had their fill, the dockhands came on board to start herding off the prisoners and supplies.
Asier ends up being released and dragged over to the others. The various prisoners fared differently, out of those severely neglected in the hold, what came out were scrawny creatures barely resembling humans. The ones who were captured and deemed prizes were far better treated, generally those strong and could be used as labourers. The man in front of Asier must have an ancestor who was an Ox, still looking strong even after this journey. Though whilst his body was strong, his spirit was broken, very servile, good for a slave, what the Tourrare call an hombre muerto, a dead man walking.
There were shouts towards the dockhands by one of the crew, âIkke ham! Hrothgar beordrer at han skal vĂŠre forberedt pĂ„ blĂłtâ. Asier realised they were talking about him, a mistake had been made, this was the opportunity. One of the dockhands came over to where he was standing, trying to decide if it was him or the Ox that was to be the blood sacrifice. Asier looked towards the back of the Parrench man's head, repeating a term and gesture often given towards him, as he spat against the back of it, ânĂĂ°â. The dockhand stared for a moment, processing what was said, then moved to unfasten and drag the Ox away. With the bindings lightened, Asier seized the moment, using the sharp shell he was given, cut loose his hand bindings, unfastened himself, then moved off quickly into the Eskandr crowds.
Asier didnât have long as the mistake would soon be spotted as he made his way over to another crowd of people, hoping to use the opportunity to hide out amongst them. As he approached and mingled in, there was an Eskandr man giving out instructions. The man paused for a moment as he saw Asier come near, then held out a baton-like instrument, barking towards him. âslaver er til hĂžyreâ, the crowd started to disperse around him, revealing his position, though a few unfriendly shoves directed him towards another sorry lot looking just like him, the thralls. Asier was soon in bondage again as he was directed towards the glacier.
Work was slow going, but having the opportunity to use pick on the axe did get the blood flowing again, rather too well when it came to the otherside of that batton, but it his placement amongst the thralls allowed him to escape the notice of the port authorities which were on the lookout for him. As it grew dark and the fires for the night began to light, Asier started preparing for the next step of his second escape. He had begun to dig out a makeshift tunnel with his ice, enough to provide some cover as he drew the overseerâs attention towards a discovery he made. A simple distraction as he used the gift to lodge the tool into the back of the manâs skull. He quickly started to exchange clothes for the far warmer furs, taking his place as the overseer, as he went to free the other thralls upon the ice. They will most likely not get far, but they will serve as enough of a distraction for his escape as he makes his way back across to Meldheim.
Asier was behind the curve on his own plans, and trying to get to locations based on verbal instructions alone was a difficult task. He stumbled through the streets as he attempted to survey the area. He was able to make out the major landmarks as they stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like this. With the fur wrapped around him and his hood up, the scraggly unkempt beard blends him in with the rest of the folk, with enough words to grunt his way through any one who tried to stop him. He makes his way to various points around the coastline as he begins to disable the sea locks.
âDer er du en hestejĂ€velâ
It should be a rather seamless task with celebrations of Eskandrâs victory over the Perrence, but there were far more vigilant eyes on watch than he gave credit for, as the one who has made his life out at sea a hell. Ragnarr walks up as he drags his axe drawn as it scratches along the ground behind him.
âRagnarr Rakfisksonâ, Asier said with a groan, âOne would have thought we were rid of your wretched odourâ. He continues to pull upon the chain as he finishes lowering the sea lock.
âHestejĂ€vel, you thought you could ride away with the waves?â Ragnarr clenches his axe, the gift channelling through his very being, âYouâre no longer in Parrence, little man. And Hrothgar was foolish to capture you with both your legs intact.â he telegraphs his next action well as he sprints forward and attempts to descend his axe onto the Tourrareâs right leg.
Asier was lowering his guard as a feint whilst he allowed the Eskandr to approach. He starts to pull the slave-batton out of his furs whilst he has his back to the man. âBy any chance do you have a longboat to lend? Promise not to burn it like the last thousand or soâ. As the telegraphed attack can, with a touch of thunder magic, he hits it away with the slave-batton, knocking it to the side, then moves to thrust it against the mans shoulder to push him back.
Ragnarrâs attack was deflected and Asier successfully repulsed him a few metres away, âYouâre Rakfisk, horse man.â enraged, the axe he wields ignited thanks to the gift! A flashy display of swings follows as he attempts to downright cut down Asier, forgetting his initial goal to simply incapacitate.
Asier finds himself a hot headed opponent who seems to be in a frenzy already, and isnât going to take this lightly, especially as he is only armed with a stick. He starts to duck and weave as he uses the environment to his advantage, moving towards boxes, kicking up dead fish, and even throwing a crab pot with one of the creatures still inside of it towards the man. âIs it true that they consider you as one the Ăresvaktr? Heard they will bestow you the honorific of Utrolige Stinkenâ, couldnât resist giving another low punch to this manâs hygiene habits.
The crab is instantly prepared and cooked for the occasion the moment it meets the axe. The Eskandr doesnât escalate in his anger much further, as he charges forward in an attempt to seize Asier by the neck with his free hand, âIâll shut you up for good, little horse man.â His breath stinks of garlic, bringing some truth to Asierâs taunting, but now he is serious and readied his axe for a decisive blow!
Asier was running out of places to run, moving onto the small kayak that was tied up along the side. With nowhere to go, Ragnar takes a firm grasp of the Tourrare horseman, holding in close. Asier really did struggle to breath as the man appeared to have eaten the looted cloves of garlic and onions like apples. He is held by that hand as the axe is ready, moving backwards. As the blow was about to strike, the weight of the kayak grew too much as it sent them both over the side and into the water. Asier fully intending this came prepared, grabbing upon the side of the boat whilst Ragnarr falls into the water ill-prepared, the load hissing as the axe evaporates water into steam upon contact. The Tourrare man pulls himself upon the underside of the Kayak as it floats upon the water, using it to drag himself up along the pier.
Now Asier has done it, Ragnarr was furious. Wailing an echoing warcry, he downright shatters the kayak before him with a single swing of his now extinguished axe. Drawing even more with the Gift, he then flung his axe, causing it to swirl in the air, and manipulated it remotely via concentrated force magic. Rows upon rows were being destroyed with Asier having very little place to run while Ragnarr appears to have no issue dwelling in the water.
Asier curses as he tries to pick himself up, stumbling as she was making haste along the pier as he was being chased by a madman with an axe. Wood and splinters fired around him as the planks cracked and broke like twigs. Asier, having drawn during the thunderstorm on their travels here, was already brimming with thunder energy, one he had been reserving for a specific purpose. âBetter now than neverâ, the air starts to become stilted but alive with energy as he starts to cast his spell. Asier managed to secure his footing as he managed to get ahead, buying enough time to turn around, the axe coming far too close for comfort as he finally delivered a charge of lightning into the water where Ragnarr appeared to be. Expelling a sheer amount of that energy to put an end to the Eskandr for good.
As the residue energy dissipates, the area appears silent and lifeless. The axe nestled into the wood between Asierâs feet as there is a bob in the water. The body of Ragnarr floats to the service, charred severely by the lightning attack.
Asier after using a moment to recover stands up and pulls the axe free from the wood. Claiming it as his own for now. âTime to find some fresh clothes. This is going to be a long nightâ.
Asier escapes the boat, as the dockhand mistakes another as him. In his escape from the boat, ends up in the hands of a glacier mining crew and their thralls. Murdered the overseer, takes his clothing. Frees the other thralls as a distraction, using the opportunity to escape into the city. Uses the information he was told to figure out general directions of key landmarks. Proceeds to the water to start lowering the sea defenses. This is to help enable a quick get away, or allow access to a Parrench fleet. Gets caught by Ragnarr 'Rakfiskson', resulting in a duel. Asier uses the energy he stored up for a final attack, sending out a signal that things may not be quite right in the city.
After defeating the Wyrm and the Froabases, there was only one issue remaining. How to deal with the aberration that was created in the middle of the battlefield. The towering thing pulsates as its dark slime-like texture was in the rippling form of Jocasta disguised as Ayla, embracing Trypano. Those who understand the nature of temporal distortions and aberrations pay attention to the two individuals involved, and a rather sheepish looking Ismette unable to avoid the gravity of their actions due to the presence of the thing.
The students agreed they needed to remove the aberration due to the dangers involved as the wildlife are naturally drawn to its immense power. Its size and ferocity posed a clear and present danger to the practitioners tempted by the allure of power, though would become overwhelmed with corruption and madness this would bring. It was proposed that 10 students would form a ring around the aberration to take in its strength, and that by working together, they could minimise the threat to themselves and others. Seven others posing as guardians to prevent them from being disturbed and the very real task of attempting to maintain their safety during the period of madness.
The strongest start first, followed by the weaker members, drawing in upon the darkness as they feel it saturate their bodies. The immense toil it takes as the body reacts to the great stress of the experience, pumping neurochemicals and adrenaline to counter its effects, too little as the body's homeostasis is greatly disrupted. The ten students embracing their new madness as the guardians watch on, prepared to act to safeguard their wellbeing. The clock is ticking.
Ingrid was the first to draw in the aberration. At first absorbing it only felt for lack of a better word icky but it soon got worse. Little by little this sickly feeling started to overwhelm her. This nothingness now felt like thick sludge was pushed through her body. Her mind deteriorated quickly and as she moved away she felt off, no longer fully aware of what was happening. Ingrid mind regressed to the anger she felt at Benedetto over Wvysen's death and she lunged at him screaming bastard and started to draw energy for only but a moment until the next impulse arrived.
Silas saw that there was nothing at the centre of the aberration. The shouted warnings of the others that had made him expect it to ignite with energy when the group joined together to absorb it. Instead there was nothing, no sign of any energy. That was until it began to fill the very core of his being. Whatever the non-energy was poured into him impossibly fast, filling his capacity in almost an instant. He lurched forwards spinning and screaming as the energy came off him in waves of force and heat.
Ayla felt that the world became like a swirl, thoughts and feelings clouded by the sudden rush she was experiencing. Her first thoughts was seeing Zarina and Marci together, feeling over an overwhelming jealousy as she attacked the tethered girl like a cat, trying to scratch her with her nails like claws. âShe is my friend, not yours!â. And there Zarina was, a bit more RAS in the pocket and a lifetimeâs worth of emotional damage. First thingâs first, being reminded of Ayla calling Zazzy her Babaca? Retribution is at hand, and that beautifully fake hair is going to get PULLED, âBabaca this you little shit! RAAAHHHH!â. Ayla was now being tackled by the far larger Virangish girl who was pulling at her hair and screaming loudly towards her about being called a babaca the last time they were together like this. She redirects this towards Marci, âNo! You cannot have her!â.
Desmond had only seen such chaos occur in the midst of the battlefield, yet it was never so, horny. Many people attacked each other, yelling, crying, laughing, makeouts and more happened at every moment. Some were very rough with each other, some tried to literally use magic to kill each other, Desmond couldn't use his guns, they were too close and slow, so he threw his bullets and upon impact with someone, he used the force to cause them to spread out, driving them apart, and then using chemical magic to apply anaesthetic substances. Many numbed limbs, as all the while he got people into holds and grapples to get them away from each other.
Desmond grabbed hold of Ayla as he tried to pull her away from Marci, being her new focus of her aggression. The smell and accent of the boy marked him as from Enth of all places. âBet you donât even play the Hurdy Gurdy!â, she bares her fangs as she attempts to bite down hard upon his arm, though thankfully the teeth do not even penetrate the leather clothing he was wearing. Isabella pulled upon Aylaâs blonde strands, following Zarinaâs example, her eyes full of greed as if treating them as being made of gold.
Zarina however let go as she got distracted by the red-headed giantess attempting to hook up with a random lad, feeling that the very existence of the pale beast pissed her off, rushing over to yelling, âYouâve got a fat arse, and youâre way too tall!â.
Desmond was surprised that someone was being rough with him, which wasn't as bad as he expected, he just wished some of them didn't seem like they were about to literally draw each other to death, or worse, use magic and blow up the place.
As the wrath moved away from Ingrid, she suddenly started to just dive into the ground. Sand would rub off some of her skin while the hardened stone hurt her bones and muscles as the large girl completely dove head first into the ground. Ingrid yelled that she was a mole person, a tunneling gofer and she needed to get home for dinner! The In-laws were coming over after all.
Realising she would be late for gofer dinner, Ingrid started to yell at herself that she is always the failure. Most of the yelling at herself broke down to her not living up to her own high standards sprinkled in with a bit of nonsensical stuff like her appearance. Ingrid would slap herself periodically and kick the stones because it hurt.
Zarina, in the discussion of plump derrieres, thought about the handsome knight, experiencing a new feeling invading her stomach. Her golden hues turned toward Thierry, and she could feel a warmth taking over. She approached, set her hand upon his armoured chest and whispered, âOui oui âŠâ before falling into a burst of mocking laughter, falling on her ass and then shifting into a regretful cry âIâm sorry ⊠I just âŠâ finally, catharsis!
Ayla had broken herself free, laughing out loud as if she was an evil villainess, feeling the ecstasy of the experience and realising she was in disguise⊠no⊠costume. âMwahaha, they call me Jocasta Re, Mistress of Time! Disrespect me, and by Oraff, you will witness your own creation in reverse!â.
Pumped with courage and bravado, she singles out the yasoi girl who has been arguing and bullying her friend Jo earlier. She walks up to Ismette in that drunken delirium, looking up towards the towering girl as she uses a finger to prod her roughly in the chest. âIf you call me Enna one more time⊠Letâs see⊠we will find out just how good Yasii ears are as natural handlebarsâ. She smirks widely as she gives a lewd laugh and a wink towards her.
Silas on the other hand eventually stumbled, hitting the sand with enough force to continue scraping forward, burning the sides of his face. His body shook with sobs this time, but no tears came to clear his eyes. Not that he needed them to see the stranger in front of him. A strange and unfamiliar burning flared in his chest. He reached for the figure before him trying to speak but only managed incomprehensible sounds. The figure left him to be replaced with another. It had a voice that spoke with such short and irregular syllables he couldn't help but giggle. He laughed riotously, until again he fell to the ground in tears.
As Ingrid got done complaining about her appearance, she set her eyes on the oh so beautiful Zarina. She was drop dead gorgeous to Ingrid with her perfect skin, her great proportions, her height. Everything. Even her clothes made her look better. Ingrid couldn't do anything to someone that beautiful so Ingrid ripped some of her clothes a fair bit with telekinesis. Ingrid realised it only made her hotter.
Like a flash of light, Zarina's unparoled beauty struck Ingrid with an all-encompassing truth. Hotness can be found for any reason. For their wit, their strength, their beauty, their personality. And all that doesn't matter to anyone but yourself!. Love whoever you want and love fiercely because life can be snuffed at any moment!
Having taken a whole new approach to love it only made sense to go make out with Benny. She looked at him like he was a stud and made her way over quickly, lightly gliding above the ground until she reached him. Ingrid took a hold of his face and looked at him like he was hotter than the Torragon High Desert and started to kiss him. She felt a hand on her chest coming from behind but that didnât matter, the more the merrier they say.
The daze cleared and Ingrid found herself to be kissing Benny. Her body was throbbing from a mixture of pain and heat. She had no idea why she was kissing him, they had just been friends but she found herself still kissing, drawn in by the comfort being near him previously provided. She pulled away knowing it wasn't right but she perhaps lingered too long. She is going to have to apologise for this.
Benedetto blinked. At one point, he'd hated and mocked Ingrid. Now... she was in his arms. He stepped back quickly, but did not completely let her go. Perhaps they could simply play it off as being caused by the aberration madness, but... he suspected otherwise. As if he could almost sense her thoughts, he smiled back in a way that he hoped didn't come across as 'creepy'. "No apologies needed."
Isabella came to her senses in the middle of groping Ingrid's chest during the others intimate exchange. Though she was apologetic, she took maybe a second too long to let go. When she floated off, she was staring down at her own front with a look of sadness.
Zarina looked right at the sky with her bloodshot eyes, âVashdal Witness Me! I am the Dragon QUEEN!â and she eagerly stared at the nearby Froabas, before beginning to sprint. There, she came around, and just kind of tripped. Face in the sad, head pounding and her horse slowly pacing by to nudge her head with his lips, âMmmm âŠâ she whinnied.
Ayla flaps her arms like a bird, tripping hard as she makes whooshing noises. âFear me, for we are Skyborn. Death from above!â. She âswoops downâ as she finds Yalen, clinging upon the boy's back and holding him tightly. âHehe⊠Yalen and Jocasta make such a cute couple⊠blonde bebes.â, her hands wrapping around to grope upon him. Ayla comes down hard as the drop in blood pressure causes her to pass out upon Yalenâs back. Sleepy time.
Yalen's sides were hurting, and wet stains were beginning to dry on his face. He couldn't tell if what he'd gone through was a dream, but he was slowly beginning to come back to the real world. When the urge to hurt, to kill welled up inside of him, it took everything he had to fight it off. The effort of doing so drove him to tears. Also, his body hurt all over as if someone had spent several seconds kicking the crap out of him. On top of all that, the laughing and crying he'd done made it hard to inhale.
There was another distressing matter he was now acutely aware of. Ayla was squeezing him from behind, and her hands had gone somewhere he really didn't want them to. When Yalen looked over his shoulder, he noticed the look of sleepy confusion and embarrassment on her face. Okay, at least this wasn't intentional, but this would be hard to talk about tomorrow. For now, he quickly tore himself away from her and hid behind what was left of the stone barricade to hide his shame.
For Casii, the lure of the aberration was enough to bring her in, but she knew she shouldn't have. Her own kin wallowed under the same vice and yet there it was.... It happened in a blur. A profound sense of regret, experience, rage, joy, lust and when she came out. She had her hands wrapped around Ismette, each greedy hand tightly gripping the other Yasoi's rump. She was close, practically leaning over the other Yasoi who might have been leaning away from a kiss as Casii's eyes opened to see her lips extended... "Oh..." She muttered, cheeks growing rosy as she withdrew. "...sorry." She hung her head in embarrassment. Ismette hadn't even been tempted by the aberration and here Casii stood, giving in and now she went and made a fool of herself like that in front of her. "Was it bad?".
Ismette blinked. She blushed, but barely. "Actually, it wasn't bad at all," she said with a slight laugh. "Unexpected, but by no means bad." She winked and reached out to squeeze Casii's shoulder. "Feel no shame, sister. I now find myself wishing I'd partaken.â She took a step back. "Now, if you would like someone to be your eshe'doin, I do not mind in the slightest."
Trypano was standing in the clear opening surrounded by the dwindling sounds of madness her reasoning returns to her, her focused and cold stare fastening back onto her face. Forming glass out of the sand below she creates a vial. With her knife she opens a vein in her wrist and lets blood out into this new container. Sealing it with more binding she then tucks it away in her bag, afterwards checking to make sure the lantern is still intact.
Kaspar's sitting back between his heels in the strewn remains of sand and glass. His mind feels like he'd just been on the cusp of something great, a revelation to shake the world, but it's already slipping from his grasp into a freefall away, stolen knowledge returned to the abyss. Kaspar notices the warmth, Godsâ forsaken as it was to his southern bloodâagainst his legs and his hands on the ground, in the air surrounding him, but a sleeve of it runs up his left arm.
As partly hazy eyes glance towards the strange sensation, they're met with red. Breath hitches, painful and panicked in his chest at memories that he forces down with extreme prejudice, but the pale sleeve of his shirt is bright crimson and sticking to the skin where fabric still remains. Fumbling, he sees the handprint carved into the flesh, nothing compared to what could have been done, but bleeding openly still. The boy didn't need to measure to know it would match his own palm, as covered in blood as his right hand seemed to be now.
Grimacing, he tugged fabric away from it, a more absorbent sort forming in his hand as he expelled the mana that had once been his fleshâfrom the blood, and to the blood it would return, as he pressed the material against the wound, the red weeping already beginning to grow sluggish. His eyes scan the rest of his companions, finding them in odd sorts but still alive. That would have to do, for now.
Marci blinked. She was... dancing, in a sense: dancing in the middle of the desert, and laughing without a care in the world. She did not often dance anymore because of how her legs were these days, but something had compelled her anyhow, and she was secretly glad of it. There were bruises on her face and a tenderness in her knuckles. She noticed them next and they said that she had been up to some sort of violence. Marceline's cheeks burned with enough shame that she ceased her laughter and dancing. Still, she could feel this strange new power surging through her and she had a feeling - a sense deep inside of herself - that was telling her that great things awaited if she went to Ersand'Enise. When it was all over and she had come down from the strange high, she stood there smiling: happy.
As fast as the energy came, it was gone. Silas found himself half buried in sand, unsure whether his pain and weariness were from the battle with the froabases or the aberration. It was some time before he tried to move.
As once it was all over, Desmond sighed in relief as he saw people finally calming down and seeming to have the fog clear.
Aberration Effect Summary:
To eliminate the aberration, it needs to be consumed. Those present split into two groups, one of those who do the dangerous task of absorbing the dark energies, and those with the more dangerous task of acting like guardians for those experiencing aberration madness. The students take in the dark energies, feeling it overwhelming them. Their bodies respond as if under attack, experiencing great neurological disruption from the experience. Students start fighting with each other, Ayla scratching at Marci whilst Zarina is pulling upon the former's hair. Others laughing, dancing, crying, flailing, or even feeling inspired. Desmond and other guardians trying to safe-guard the students and contain their actions, becoming the focus of the students attention from attacks to sexual advances. Students continue to enact very embarrassing and shameful acts under the influence which they will severely regret when they are sober. Others taking advantage of the altered state to express things they long desired to as they end up in very intimate exchanges such as Zarina and Thierry, Ingrid and Benny, Casii and Ismette. Climb down is as sudden as it began, causing a lot of very red faces as people realise the consequences of their actions, or soon to find out just how bad they got.
Event: Best Served Cold |Location: Voyage upon the Eskandr Longboat.
Maëlle readies her bow, raising it up towards the perched squirrel. She makes herself perfectly still in her position, anchoring the pull and with a deep breath, steadies her breathing. She releases her fingers as the arrow flies and misses the mark. The squirrel sniffs at the air, before scampering along the branch as a second arrow makes the creature drop down.
âDonât rush, mi fresa - ma fraise)â, Gisselle lowers her bow, smiling sweetly towards the pouty faces her daughter is making, âPatience will ensure you strike trueâ. MaĂ«lle looks towards the squirrel upon the ground, âDa always says to strike quickly and decisivelyâ. Gisselle looks towards her, and now in a chiding tone, âand who is the best hunter in the village?â clearly referring to herself. MaĂ«lle grins up mischievously, âPapi~â. Gisselle blinks then laughs, âMaybe Pa in his heyday. He did teach your Da, and myself, of courseâ. The pair picked up their prizes as they made their way back home towards the small town they call home.
Gisselle was glad it was PĂšre and not Asier that MaĂ«lle looked up to in this regard, her father is still the towns huntsman despite his waning years, and he continues to entertain the children with a tall tale or many of the strange and wonderful creatures he encountered in the fables. It is not as if she disliked Asier, but he hasnât been the most reliable role model, especially one with a daughter who pines after him constantly. Now with another blessing on its way, perhaps the gods grant them their wish that their family will grow larger despite the challenges and tribulations they have faced. Perhaps after the battle with the Eskandr is done, she will have the opportunity to have a serious discussion about his responsibilities back at home and not for the Parrench King.
As the pair start to approach their home, they notice the horses, Espirito and Fresa outside of the gate. Gisselle starts to eye this up suspiciously as MaĂ«lle gets excited. âDa is home! Look MamĂĄ, the horses are hereâŠ!â. Gisselle tugs upon MaĂ«lle to prevent her running off, âHe may be weary from battle, he hasnât put the horses away. Go and do that firstâ, MaĂ«lle shoots up a look as questioning this with some choice words, though notices the expression upon her motherâs face, âMamå⊠⊠will make sure they the horses are fed, they must be tiredâ.
Gisselle moves towards the door as she is greeted by a messenger, the man opening his satchel as he bears a letter with the kingâs seal upon it, âBaroness Herbeumont, I presume?â. She clicks her tongue at the use of the Parrench name, âBaroness Hierbamonteâ, the man looks rather uncomfortable for a moment before proceeding. âImportant letter from the Kingâ. She offers her hand as she accepts the letter, moving to her pouch as she offers the man money to stay at the tavern, âInform them of my name if there are any outstanding expenses, feel free to rest up before your return journeyâ. The Parrench man looks a little sheepish, as he gives a small bow before disappearing, Gisselle politely pointing into the appropriate direction. She makes her way inside as she uses the knife to break the wax seal.
MaĂ«lle slowly makes her way through the door, moving in an hesitant manner, âDa is not coming home again, is he?â. Gisselle gently hushes her daughter, gesturing for her to come close as she pats upon her lap, and when she climbs on, gives her daughter a warm embrace.
âYour Da is going on a journey out to sea.â
Asier learnt that being tied to the bow of the longship had its perks, mostly that he got a good view of the journey and a chance to breathe in deeply of that fresh sea air. The other perk was that the Eskandr had to put up with the smell of sea sickness as well, as the motions of the longship caused him to rock up and down in a see-saw fashion along the sea.
Asierâs experience only grew more intense with the passing of time as the waves licked up and crashed over the front of the ship. The sky started to brew, darkening as storm clouds began to populate the horizon and the Eskandr raiders headed to a nearby island to camp for the night to wait out its passing.
After the customary beating that always came with changing positions, Asier now at least had the comfort of wood to sit upon as he was hauled to the mast and left tied upon it in the open rain. Not as if he had to worry about his clothes getting wet, but at least his skin would be able to shed itself of its accumulation of salt. Outside of the repeated punishment, the Eskandr had treated him well with food, less a gesture of their generosity but more that he would maintain his strength for the journey. Not through any compassion as his hosts were performing the duty out of preference for keeping their prey alive rather than having it perish during the trip for the punishments that laid in wait for him when they reached the capital.
As the rain batters through the night and the thunder crackles through the sky, dark shadows bend and twist along the deck in strange and unusual man-like silhouettes. Between the flashes of light and boom of the thunder, a scurrying as hands are fiddling, the sound of feet scampering through the puddles. âIf you are after the good stuff, they stick it in the strongbox on the left under the deck.â, Asier owes the Eskandr no loyalty and doubts these imaginary shadow creatures would be taking off with their treasure even if the idea of it amuses him greatly. The shadows bob and weave in response as they currently stick to the edges, their attention focusing on the said location. âShould be quite a lot in there, the brutes tend to gather as much as they can find, haul it on these ships, then store it up in great big piles in their frozen homeland. Should be enough for you and your friendsâ. He gives a wry smile as he is convinced he is being driven mad from this experience.
Then, violence: sudden and decisive. Coinciding with a great crack of lightning, one of the small figures rushed up and cracked open the chest not too far from where Asier had been lashed. The Eskandr had taken most of the good stuff ashore, ever wary, even in a place like this. They had been weary, though, and sloppy. The lid slammed open, nearly breaking its hinges. Inside was silver, frankincense, and sugar in great quantity. The shadows rifled through it eagerly, very much corporeal beings, apparently.
If they were saying anything, it was hard to make out amid the crash of waves, wind, and distant thunder, but they plucked eagerly from the chest, filling slings tied across their shoulders. They conferred with each other as they did so, nodding, pointing, and gesturing. They tied their slings into sacks and tossed these overboard. If there were individuals waiting below to receive the stolen bounty, Asier could not see them from his angle.
Then, all at once, a couple rushed up to him, leaping the distance in a pair of nimble bounds, very much yasoi-like. The larger of the two - a young woman by the looks of her - tilted her head to the side. âYeen ik-k-k Queeyan?â she exclaimed, turning to her counterpart. He shook his head. âYeep ik-k-pap Queeyan.â Very obviously not human, though something not completely removed either, both turned large, dark eyes to Asier, their surfaces reflecting the light. âHyou speek-k-k Essk-kaam?â asked the second in broken Eskandr, jabbing a finger at the prisoner.
Asier has most definitely lost his mind when being confronted by these beings in some kind of delirium, though his lack of companionship has made this journey rather dull other than examining the glares, hisses and spitting of the Eskandr. Asier would raise his hand in greeting if he could, simply making do with a nod towards the strange creatures of the night, âHello there.â, he gives them a warm smile as the rain drops run down his face, unable to quite make out what they are. âDo you happen to be Yasoi?â, he peers to them inquisitively, âthough either way, the Eskandr most likely have more of those boxes on the shore, but they are most likely stored with their axes and foul tempers.â. He offers the pair a toothy grin as he doesnât fully understand their speech, âNot sure about Essk-kaam, but my Parrench is not too bad by their standardsâ.
âYeep ik-k-pap Essk-kaam,â said the older male. His clothing was of a single piece, mostly smooth, but festooned with little bits and baubles. âYeen ik-k-k!â insisted the other. âYeen owuuik.â
âAk. Kikoo.â He shook his head. âKikoo.â
âAhooi yeen ik-k-k Paahreck-k,â suggested the woman, and the sea-man made what may have been an annoyed face. âKeepah keepah!â she prodded, but when he was slow, she shoved him aside.
âHi!â she said, in Avincian, waving exaggeratedly. She extracted some silver coins and a chain from her sling and held them up in Asierâs face. âI wike!â She grinned, and her mouth was full of sharp little teeth. She pointed at the chest and nodded, and then indicated the general area with further gestures, perhaps indicating confusion or curiosity. âFwiem!â she announced. âI fwiem. You fwiem.â She held up some more silver and kissed it, turning eagerly to Asier.
Asier raises an eyebrow as he watches the display, still unclear, however the female appears to be the smarter of the two strange beings. âIt suits you very well.â, he gestures with his head towards her silver and then towards her.
âFerry Weww!â she mimicked, nodding eagerly and then blinking. She tilted her head to one side.
âWe could always do with having more friends out here, wherever here is.â. He takes a look towards the older male, simply trying to give him a respectful nod. âThere must be four other ships with more hoards like that as well, reckoning from my last countâ.
âFouwâŠâ she repeated, stewing upon the word. She held up four fingers and gave a questioning look.
He nods in return to the gesture, using his head to bob as if counting. âOne, Two, Three, Four. Four Ships.â
âWum tkoo fwee fouw ssipss!â she chirped, pointing at him, greatly pleased with herself. âSsipss!â Her older counterpart shook his head adamantly. He stomped on the deck with a webbed foot. âSsip,â he insisted, but she shook her head and pointed with equal certainty to Asier. âSsipss!â
The sea-man rolled his eyes. âPooka. Dee axi pooka.â
âDee pooka. Dee papa pooka. Dee mama pooka. Dee oumaf axi pooki!â
Asier gives her a guilty look, especially as she is full of confidence as he shakes his head. He follows the others' gesture as he stamps upon the deck as he reinforces the word âshipâ as meaning the longboat. âShip.â. He looks to her again, when he has her attention to look down to himself using his chin to point as he indicates âAsier. My name is Asier.â He tries to make sense of their language as he gestures towards her, âPooka?â, he asks in a questioning manner.
âWoo woo woo!â shouts the sea-man. âKee pooka!â
Encouraged, Asier points towards the other with his chin, âPapa Pooka?â.
âWoo woo woo!â shouted the younger one. âPapa pooka!â She grinned wickedly at her counterpart and he scowled. She turned that same smile on Asier. âI Akeenah. You Assiew.â She pointed to the sea-man. âI Hoomak,â she announced, using the wrong pronoun. âI -â she grabbed silver and gestured âwike.â
Asier gestures with his head towards the bindings coiled around him, wiggling his body to show the suggestion of perhaps untying or cutting him free from his bondage. âGoing to be difficult without my hands. Are you able to free me?â, he wiggles in an exaggerated manner as tugging at the ropes, as he repeats âFree friend?â in a suggestive tone.
Hoomak rolled his eyes at Akeenah, but withdrew a wicked-looking dagger from his pouch when Asier spoke. Akeenahâs eyes widened momentarily, but then her partner was slicing the humanâs bindings and the ropes were sloughing away. âHyou go,â said Hoomak. âI wike-ke-ke.â added his partner eaerly. âI tkake. Hyou tkake.â
Asier rubs his wrists as he can finally feel his circulation going towards his fingers, rotating them to get the blood flowing as he nods towards Hoomak, stating âThank youâ. Asier redoes the introductions to confirm what they have learnt so far. He points to himself, âAsierâ, he points towards the girl, âAkeenahâ, he points towards the male, âHoomakâ, then he reaches down to knock upon the ship, âShipâ, he raises his fingers to signal âOne Shipâ, then closes his hand, then points towards the distance, âOne ship, two ship, three ship, four shipâ, and shows four fingers towards them.
Once the refresher class is completed, he notices their attention upon the silver, as he reaches out towards it, âThis is silver. Silver.â, even prodding it to make the point if allowed that close, âAkeenah like silver?â, as he points towards her then the silver in her hand, âHoomak like silver?â, doing likewise.
âI siwfer!â Akeenah hisses when he got too close, baring her teeth, but then it turned into an impish smile. âHehe, I ghak-k fowee!â She made a thinking face for a moment, and a flash of lightning illuminated her surprisingly humanlike features. âI, hyou, hyou go siwfer.â She paused and pointed. âSsipss.â
Hoomak jabbered something quickly back in their language and Akeenah nodded. Then, the older sea person was gone: springing overboard with surprising nimbleness for his apparent age. âHoomak go.â She makes a gesture of pulling or gathering something. âGo peepwe: wum tkoo fwee fouwâŠâ She bit her lower lip. âI, hyou go ssiips. Peepwe go ssipsss. Siwfer!â She nodded and smiled conspiratorially. âI, hyou go wum. Peepwe go tkoo.â She winked. âI, you, wum, tkoo fwee, fouw siwfer.â
Asier smiles as he thanks the heavens; the basic universal concept of wanting more applies to these creatures too. He does a big gesture with his hands, âLots of Silver. Lots.â
Akeenah is an awkward walker when not bounding or leaping, her long-toed webbed feet evidently not well adapted to moving quickly on flat ground. She turners on a heel. âWotkss,â she tries gamely, stumbling over the word and having to twist her mouth in a strange way to pronounce it. âWum, tkoo, fwee, fouw.â She pauses, psyching herself up for the challenge. âWotks.â She arches an eyebrow, annoyed, and shakes her head, gesturing to Asier to follow her overboard. âI, hyouâŠâ She points to her mouth and mimics speaking. âI queeyan: eeaiko queeyan. Wotks,â she continues, âKohkah!â She pauses, swinging over the edge. âWum, tkoo fwee, fouw: kohka!â
âAsier,â she says, poking her head back up. âHyouâŠâ She clambers up a bit and hooks her elbows over the edge. Poorly, she motions swimming. âOkay?â
Asier questions the language, pointing towards Aleekah. âEeaiko?â, then pointing towards himself, âHuman.â. The main reason for clarifying is the fact he is realising what is going to be asked of him. Being a horseman on the steppe, his contact with water is infrequent, even if it is a butt of jokes about bathing. He moves towards the side as he tries to estimate how deep the water is, though during storm conditions as the waves crash against the side of the boat, this is impossible to tell, and even if he could paddle a little it would be vastly inadequate. He probably looks rather meek when looking towards the water, offering a shrug of his shoulders, as he starts to draw upon the force energies of the storm, so if he starts sinking towards the bottom, he might be able to get his way back out if he manages to push himself towards the direction of land.
He was about to jump into the water when he got an idea. Stopping himself, and using the open flat of his hand to symbolise âstopâ or âwaitâ, he moves over to grab some rope, returning to the Eeaiko girl. He moves the rope around him, as he begins to tie it into a knot, then tugging upon it to show how it doesnât come undone. âAsier rope.â, pointing down towards it, then offers the other end to Akeenah, âAkeenah rope? Asier Akeenah rope together.â, trying his best to communicate with his hands.
âA.. aha⊠ahahaha! Asier uh-uh ikâk-k ahee!â She was laughing at him, but she clambered back aboard and accepted the rope, tying it around her waist. âI, hyou, go!â she prodded, hopping nimbly up on the gunwale. âOkay?â
Asier gives a thumbs up in an act of fake confidence. âOkay.â, as he moves upon the edge of the gunwale, then with much reluctance, even with the rope, pushes himself into the water with a splash, sinking in underneath then trying to kick himself up so his head is above it. Thankfully, he is not wearing any armour, considering it all got confiscated as part-payment for his act of arson.
Akeenah more or less drags him to a nearby longship, her eagerness to reach it not giving Asier much chance to be anything but a passenger. Once his hands have grasped the side, she untethers herself eagerly and leaps aboard. âSilver?â she demands, but sheâs already going for a chest. Thereâs a brief buildup of energy and then the lock shatters and sheâs opening her prize. What she pulls out is not silver but gold. She waggles her eyebrows at Asier and grins, but it quickly fades in favour of inquisitiveness. âYou uh-uh Eskaam?â
Asier shakes his head to the question, assuming it meant she was asking if he was Eskandr. âMe Parrench. From Parrence. Not Eskandr.â, he works up some spit as if to give a demonstration of disgust towards Eskandr. He does change the subject as he points towards the gold, âGold. Worth more than Silver.â, he points towards Akeenahâs silver, then using a gesture with his arms symbolising a lot of it, then pointing towards the smaller pile of gold. âGold is lots of Silverâ.
Akeenah, busy scooping gold into her sling, just kind of looks strangely at Asier and where he spat. âPaareck,â she repeats, apparently solid on it, but there seems to be some deeper confusion there. She stares briefly at the spit again, already washed away by the rain and then shakes her head as if to clear it. Then, from the water comes splashing that doesnât seem like waves. Hoomak and seven to ten other Eeaiko clamber and leap aboard. One - a particularly large man in what would appear to be fine clothing for Eeaiko - takes the lead, grabbing Akeenah by the hand. âAkeenah, reek awoom ak-k-k oomum.â He looks Asier up and down, scowling.
Asier was helping to find other treasure upon the ship, bringing it as an offering towards Akeenah as she was storing things within her sling as he built upon that rapport. Though the arrival of her friends is met with some perceived hostility by what appears to be perhaps the leader of this group. He motions towards himself, âAsier, Parrench Human.â, then towards the wealthy one, âSilver, Gold, for Eeaikoâ, he gestures the box towards the group, as if offering them the opportunity to partake in the spoils. He keeps an eye upon the dynamic between Akeenah and the leader, wondering if there was deeper connection, or simply general suspicion towards strangers.
âI speak your worzz, Parreck,â the apparent leader replied. He pulled Akeenah close. âI am Auvam, of Akamaz. I see you have meh my betkrove, Akeenah.â He did not make any move towards Asier, for either good or ill. Instead, he crossed his arms. âSo, you are a prisomer, we have freeh you. You give us goww and siwver as thacks. You wook for more?â
Asier smiles brightly as this one speaks his tongue close enough, a perfect opportunity. âGlad that your fiance introduced us then, we need to share words that involve you getting a lot of gold and silver.â, he hopes the words take the interest of Auvam, making him more willing to hear his ideas. âYour Akeenah likes her silver, so let's make your wedding full of it. Does that sound interesting to you?â.
âThe Eskandr,â pointing towards the ship, âhave sent a great many to Parrench. Around a thousand it seemed, they filled the waters off the coast.â, he nods towards Akeenah to gesture a really big âlotsâ, definitely a lot of fours. âYou are talking to Asier, the man who burnt them all, nearly.â, he gestures a big poof of smoke, like an eruption. âThe Eskandr are stuck in Parrence. Their homes are missing many of their warriors.â, he moves towards the chest of silver and gold. âEskandr takes gold and silver from everywhere, to bring home. Their halls are filled with this.â he takes out the gold and silver, offering it out to the group. âIf Auvam of Akamaz, and his many friends wanted an opportunity to have a wedding filled with silver for his lovely wifeâ, gesturing towards Akeenah, âAsier the Parrench will help him, and he does not want gold or silver.â
âYou say this ouh of the goohess of your hearh or for revenge?â Inquired Auvam. âI will noh brig my kig a requess for pickig awwies ih a humam war.â
Asier shakes his head, âJustice, not revenge. We do not desire bloodshed or their death, nor would this be requestedâ. âTell me. Given what we see of the Eskandr, they are brutal, cruel, and warlike. Your people must have met their ends early at their hands. Yet, despite their threat, you are here on their ship, for their gold and silver, in a peaceful manner as they sleep on the shore. This tells me that gold and silver are important to you.â, he gestures towards the shoreline. âTheir warriors are on a shore called Parrence, whilst they leave their city like this ship. Like this ship, Asier will offer to help you claim what you need, taking those riches in payment for their crimes against the Eeaiko, past, present, and maybe even future. All we desire is justice being served, my friendship on this is your wedding gift.â
âTell me, humam, why are you sayig your nhame, nhoh âIâ?â Auvam tilted his head to the side.
Asier scratches his head for a moment, âBad habit which was picked up when trying to converse earlier, we were learning each other's names, and mistakes were made. Hoomak ended up as Papa Pooka by accident, we were trying to familiarize ourselves with correct names by repeating them. Also we Tourrare Parrench are a communal people, we aim to serve and contribute to the family, not the individual.â
âHah! Papa Pookah!â Auvam laughed. âYou are fummy, Asier. I will give you thah. NowâŠâ He twisted, cleared his throat, and began shouting orders in his language. Akeenah flashed a little smile Asierâs way and took the lead as eeaiko spread out across the ships. âYou shouh be correc, though,â the leader amended. âWe areât the omes who fear Eskaam. Eskaam fear us!â He crossed his arms. âI will bring this projec to my king. I have his ear. Perhaps he will lissen.â
The last moments Asier can remember is that big toothy smile of Auvam as the world goes dark around him.
As the morning sun breaks through the clouds, Asier looks up from the ship mast even more worse to wear than the night before. He groans as he seems to woken from a very strange dream about the events that transpired during the night. He is roughly greeted by a charming Eskandr brute of a man who enjoyed greeting him with a slap against the face each morning, though now, that permanent scowl seemed to twist to show how his heart grew three times smaller at this present moment. âHvor er sĂžlvet? - where is the silverâ. Asier spat out blood as he was struck again, looking towards the side where the strongbox laid open and the lid broken off. "The sea demons were realâŠ?â Asier questioned for a moment, as he looked up towards the man. The man fumed as he started shouting out in Eskandr. âHavfruene! havfruene var herâ. He looked down towards Asier, grinning as he prodded upon the strange mark scratched upon him. âYou were lucky boy, they didnât eat you. They left you a parting present to remember them by.â
Asier looks down to see the mark upon him. It was regarded as a curse for those who have been in contact with the seafolk by the Eskandr after he had outlived his usefulness in taking the Eskandrâs treasures. Perhaps his willingness allowed him to remain with his life, even though it wonât be much of one once he gets to his destination.
Next time, he might have had better luck in attempting to trade silver for Auvamâs wife than encouraging them to raid a city.
Letâs hope the gods bless him with an opportunity to end up with his Parrench compatriots once again.
Scene with Asier's wife and daughter, Gisselle and Maele being informed about Asier being out to sea, cue duet song. Asier is treated by punishingly by the Eskandr. They apparently don't like their ships being burnt to cinders. Asier is left out in a storm, coming across the Eeaiko, sea people which talk funny and really liked silver. Asier gets abandoned by the sea people after outliving his usefulness. Now to continue the rest of the journey.
Event: Defense of Relouse |Location: Behind Enemy Lines, Parrence.
The cold air brushes upon the manâs face, his eyes open to darkness. As he stares towards the heavens, the moons shine brightly, the gods looking down upon him as the haze of the starry sky becomes clearer.
Is this⊠the afterlife�, the sharpness of pain penetrates the numbness as he feels his awareness returning, his senses coming to life as the smell, sound, and feel of the wet earth below his fingers. He tries to move, very sluggish in his manner as he tries to right himself. His hands roaming upon his armour as he feels the puncture holes adorning it, however the flesh underneath is present, despite being scarred and raw. He looks around to see the battlefield almost absent of life, other than a few scavengers collecting the spoils of battle. The words he hears around are of Eskandr origin, as he tries to make out where the battle-lines are. He appears to be truly in enemy territory.
He looks at the bodies around him as he selects belongings to obscure his identity as he tries to blend in with the host of the Eskandr horde. Taking a helmet, a dark cloak, and some appropriate weapons. As he was about to take off, he noticed a familiar sight of what was once the beloved Arpegiar. Such a noble steed to have been butchered so brutally that it should have been a crime against Oraff. It seemed the animal took the vast majority of the arrows, dying almost suddenly as its eyes were still wide with alertness. He crouches down as he makes the sign of the pentad, the typical hourglass shape as he leans down to close those eyes, âRest well, good friend..
Fortune has favoured Asier. Reshta, known as Vyshta to the Yasoi, is the embodiment of chaos. Taking with one hand and giving with another. In exchange for his life, it seems the path of fate has taken cruel turns. The one who reached him, before they were driven away, only had healed him enough to enact vengeance upon the Eskandr for their hubris.
After taking a moment to survey the surroundings, he starts to mentally plan out the camp before him and not appearing to find any obvious weaknesses, despite the minimal levels of patrolling along the south and the beached ships furthest away from the encampment. Only those moving and out of the camp were the scavengers seeking the spoils as they picked at the corpses like vultures. He came across an oaf of an Eskandr who seems determined on removing a nobleman's cuirass without the knowledge of knowing how to unfasten it, despite somehow gathering a sack of ill-gotten gains. This was a ripe target as he silently moves up to the distracted man, unsheathing a dagger as he used the gift to apply the force along the edge, allowing it to move effortlessly as he silences the individual in a swift motion as the head slides off his neck with a squelch as it lands within his hands. He takes the bag of booty as he starts to heave it towards the encampment.
The trek was longer and more arboreous than expected. It seems whoever did patch him up was in a hurry, as some of the wounds were starting to reopen as he felt the warmth of his blood upon his skin, growing more sluggish. He approaches the Eskandr camp with his goods as the watchman looks on. He could overhear shouting in their guttural language as he draws closer. The watchman begins to grow tense due to lack of reply, but as the man got close, he could see the ill-fitting helmet, and beard hanging underneath, with the scavenger tapping upon the sack and giving him a roaring cheer, he allows him to pass, wondering just what he may have picked up was worth cheering about and how to get first dibs upon it.
With Asier within the camp, things got easier as he started to head towards the Eskandr sea-chariots. A horse for a horse he thought as he started to inspect the area. It seems these men were very lacklustre in their security provision, probably far too relaxed after what appears to be their victory, all the better to take advantage of. He climbs on board the nearest ship as he quietly inspects the cargo, checking out the caskets secured to the sides of the ships, filled with tar and pitch. Using his dagger and a persuasive amount of force, he opens the nailed down lid, dipping his finger inside to smell it and rubbing it between his fingers. What did they intend to do with this?
He could see in the distance the Eskandr have been removing the pitch from the ships, there were caskets stacked up along the beach as they were being stored along it. It was then it began to dawn on him what they were plotting to do, they were going to raze Relouse to the ground. He glances along the ships as he tries to mentally calculate but fails due to the sheer scale. They are going to burn Parrence to the ground? The cruelty of these people shows no shame, as he doesnât look this gift horse in the mouth. âYou reap what you sow.â
Asier breathes in as he begins to draw upon the energies around him with the gift. The tides provide him with valuable force, the storms generating plenty of residual energy for him to take for his own. The Tourrare starts to overdraw, the concentrate of energy would shine like a beacon for those with the gift around him, but it is too late. For what is dead may never die. Asier picks up the caskets of pitch as he throws them, empowered with the force, upon the neighbouring ships, and tipping the last one over as it pours out at his feet, moving himself to stand upon the edge prepared. He concentrates the force of thunder at his fingertips, the lightning sparkling as he fires the currents towards the ships. The fumes of the tar are highly volatile as they ignite, the fire spreading quickly upon the wood, soon finding the caskets stored onboard those ships. The first signs of trouble would be the sudden light and engulfing of flame, only to be accompanied by a ferocious wind as Asier uses the force to control the air flow, sending out gusts towards the directions of the other ships. Fire, pitch, and flaming caskets raining down like brimstone along the shoreline, the ships docked in single file made them prime targets for his attack as the flames flicker up into wild fire as they start to spread unchecked. Horns are blazed as the horde of Eskandr are in uproar and panic, their access to the river blockaded by a wall of fire, fueled by what used to be their longships.
Asier spits out blood upon the sands before him, bowled over, crouching, as he suffers the consequences of his actions. The wounds on his sides are oozing with blood, as he feels the hot flame licking against his back. The Eskandr are arriving enmasse, they would instantly notice his shape against the backdrop of an inferno. The look of despair upon their faces made it known he did the right thing in the situation. âNothing beats a good bonfire on a cold night after battleâ, his voice and chuckle drowned out by the sound of crackling timber as the ships collapse under the intensity of the flame. He used the last of his reserves to amplify his voice. âAre you not entertained? Isnât this why you are here in Parrench lands? Is my gift to you not good enough?â, his voice bellows across as the Eskandr are overwhelmed with their emotions, despair, anger, hatred, fear.
Asier grins widely as he sees his nemesis, the Nashorn yet again. The hulk of a beast starting to charge over in his direction. âBet you regret not finishing the job now. A cat has nine lives.â, he spat blood onto the floor before him again as it starts to fill his mouth, then he turned around stumbling, heading into the direction of the fires he created, finally deserving of the peace his final rest will deliver him.
Nashorn rampages through the Eskandr lines and debris as he quickly descends upon Asier. The Tourrare warrior seems to not to pay attention as the beast tears through the smouldering carnage that has been wrought upon his people. He grabs the man, smacking him hard against the head to cripple him in his tracks before he would kill himself. He starts to drag the man towards the main encampment to be judged by his overlord. There are crueller fates than dying.
Reshta has not yet finished with the Lion Knight.
Asier finds himself partially healed and more importantly, alive on the battlefield. Eskandr lines have advanced, putting him well within enemy terrority. He skulks and lies low as he scouts out the enemy camp. The guards are light, with the Eskandr revelling in their victory in battle. Asier murders a scavenger to take his ill-gotten gains, posing as a scavenger himself to access the Eskandr camp. Asier uncovers a plot by the Eskandr to burn down Relouse and potentially other towns with tar and pitch. A ploy to remove Parrence from the map. Asier turns the tables by taking advantage of this to set fire to the fleet, overdrawing upon the gift to delivering a devastating blow as wildlife spreads to the majority of the fleet. Asier in his final moments as he approaches death again gets denied as the Nashorn takes him prisoner.
âI donât see why this is necessary,â Jocasta huffed, rolling along after Ayla, who traipsed about in front of her. âI am perfectly good with words and negotiation.â She glanced back at the others over her shoulder as they receded into the distance. âLook at how I defused that pool situation!â
Ayla started recalling the pool situation, her version aimed at attempting to de-escalate the situation before Jo bared her teeth. âIt was a very nice touch at the end.â She gave credit where it was due as she redirected from the statement. âYour skill set would be invaluable, if you were free to act and not caught up in noble pleasantries and sycophancy. We donât want our trump card on display whilst we are at a disadvantage.â She smiled widely. The irony of her own comment was not lost as she moved closer. âYou know how persuasive my words can be. Let us do what we do best.â
Jocasta heaved a much-put-upon sigh. âSomeday, mama, Iâll be a real girl.â She quirked an eyebrow. âFor now, Iâm just curious to see how badly you fail in a wheeled-chair.â Theyâd reached the wood workshop, where open space abounded and they could talk in private. Jocasta reached out with a kinetic grip and plucked a newly-finished chair from the corner. âNow sit,â she commanded, âand we can speak further as we roll.â
Ayla seats herself in the wheelchair, âYou left such a lasting impression, we aspired to be like you so much, we wanted to become you.â. She smiles towards the blonde as she is practicing acting more snarky in her comments. âThe logical next step.â, she puts her hands to the wheel as she practices pushing them forward in the manner she has seen the others, seeming far more clunky than she anticipated.
âStep, hmm?â Jocasta teased. She observed Ayla for a moment. âThis isn't such a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but you do need to look authentic. First thing, when you turn, not one at a time; both: one forward, one back. You can pivot on the spot.â She pursed her lips, suddenly some kind of Zeno.
Ayla moves her hands as instructed, able to turn on a neskal. She gives a smile in return, âThought you were going to refer to the hair and eye color with the authentic comment. But it appears weâll soon be rolling and they will be hating at this rate.â.
âBetter,â decided Jocasta. âYouâre not dogshit anymore, pardon my Perrench." She immediately softened The comment with a smirk. âAs for the hair and eyes, nothing a little blood and chemical magic can't fix.â She focused for a moment and her hair darkened until it was nearly black. âwait,â she interrupted herself, âI shouldâve asked. You've been taught how to do this? Wanna handle it yourself?â
Ayla does open up her saddle-bag, full of various trinkets, including a piece of flat metal with a shine. âCosmetics is my forte, if you give me a moment, you could soon pass for me.â, she gives a teasing manner as she starts to dig for powder and make-up. âGot a reputation to maintain, wonât pass with just changing your hair colour. You will soon be the prettiest flower in the garden.â
âTrying to tell me something?â Jocasta raised an eyebrow. People often assured her that she was pretty, though she knew it was more out of pity than anything else. âAnyhow,â she continued, âthese!â All at once she reached out and slapped Aylaâs knees: hard enough to draw a reaction. She shook her head. âThey can't move. You're moving them without realizing it.â She drew her hand in a line across her waist. âNothing below here. Sorry for the slap, by the way.â
Ayla grins for a moment with the final comment, âDonât worry, plucking your eyebrows in a moment.â She pulls a pair of tweezers out, as she taps them together in a teasing movement. âBut going to tell you a secret, two actually, first thing, you have good bone structure, donât want you telling me youâre not pretty. Second, every beautiful girl is very talented when it comes to applying make-up, so once we are done, you would not be pretty, but ravishing. No pity.â
Jocasta blushed. â...got cheekbones like a Nashibansek,â she grumbled, but then she smiled. âAlso, get that torture device away from me. I'll use binding. Just guide me.â
Ayla smiles warmly, teasing further, âYou sure? No pain, no gainâŠâ She puts the tweezers back in her bag as she moves to hold upon Joâs hand, extending the index finger and moving it towards her eye-brow as she begins to guide the blonde.
âIpte,â Jo huffed. âI'm a golem now.â
âMhm. Have you ever dressed up before? Experience being like another person. It is a surreal and enjoyable experience choosing to be like someone you are not out of choice.â
A dozen times, Jocasta thought, but I have to go back to being myself every time itâs over.âHere and there,â she replied pleasantly, âbut if I tell you, I might have to kill you.â She grinned wickedly. âThat's neither here nor there, though. For now, are you ready to become blonde? Then, we play dress up, hmm?â
Ayla nods as she smiles, as she starts to apply the finishing touches upon Joâs face. She leans very closely towards it, her breath gently blowing against the blonde as she is very delicately applying the freckles with her brush as they are face-to-face âPretending to be a villain can be a fun act, especially when your ancestor is considered to be a Grand Demon.â, she moves her hand up as if to take the shape of a claw, making a scratching gesture. âYou would need to make these already pretty eyes a sparkling sapphire too however, and then we should be done with the make-up. You would make a very beautiful Arslan.â, unable to resist teasing the blonde with compliments as she blushed in response.
Jocasta backed up a couple of pushes. âUuh, yup,â she replied, a little bit uncomfortable with the closeness. âGreen to blue.â She focused on Aylaâs hair, changing its composition until it shone golden, and giving it a bit of a wave. She maneuvered behind the Torragonese, taking up her hair, and starting to braid it as she usually braided hers. âNext, we need to change,â she said, âbut I donât think our clothes will fit each other.â She scowled. âMight not seem like it, but I think Iâm actually taller than you standing.â
Ayla appraises Jo as she looks her up and down, âYou might be right. Could use a couple of pins to hold it tighter. Nothing difficult to modify. Could always put a blanket over my legs.â
âPins!?â the tethered exclaimed. âI can use binding, you know. Just might be⊠interesting fitting back into things after, unless binding is used again. As for the blanketâŠâ she paused, thinking. âMight be a good idea anyways. Your legs are too full.â She shook her head. âMine are like sticks. Now,â she chirped, starting to head for a nearby screen. âhave we decided where I should sit?â She disappeared behind it momentarily. âif Iâm you, probably somewhere in the front, but the back would be idealâŠâ
Ayla rolls her eyes in an exaggerated manner, âForgot how you can use the gift to do everything for you. Next you will tell me we donât even need to roll to the Duque and we simply appear there.â, uses tongue-in-cheek teasing as she starts to move behind her side of the partition.
Jocasta blinked, just as she was disappearing behind the screen. She rolled back one push, sticking her head out.âActually, yup!â she teased, âBut weâll do it the old-fashioned way. Give you some practice.â
Ayla undresses as she starts to put her clothing along the top of the partitioner, before glancing towards the hanging items. She was about to ask if Jo was able to reach, catching herself, then decided to practice her mannerisms. âUh oh, my one weakness, reaching for items above my head.â
âA crippling weakness,â Jocasta laughed, âTruly.â Then, she began plucking the clothes that had been slung over the top.
âYou know you will have to start hugging everybody, right?â. Ayla smirks, already aware some of the tethered children have jokingly started saying âAyla hugâ when they greet each other. âMy personal boundaries will now be violated, how fate prevents me from being able to avoid intimacy. We must now embrace the power of friendship, and witness the demise of my social anxiety.â.
âUgh. Shut up,â the not-blonde groaned. âYou know youâre going to have to swathe yourself in layers of snark, right?â She peeked out over the top of the divider. âA just revenge.â
Both of them were more or less dressed now, Jocastaâs calves exposed, the garment uncomfortably tight around her shoulders and chest, probably also giving her a wedgie which she was thankful for not having to feel. Ayla was swimming in her older friendâs dress, meanwhile, the light, flowy garment frumpy, ruffled, and pooling at her feet. For a moment, the tethered rose, until she was âstandingâ across from her counterpart. Then, tugs, pulls, sounds of things ripping, and whirling threads. Her face became a mask of concentration; the fabric around her chest and shoulders loosened and she took a grateful deep breath she hadnât known that she needed. Everything tightened up for Ayla, until the top of the dress was snug and form-fitting as it was supposed to be and the lower hem did not drag on the ground. âI think that about does it,â decided Jocasta, settling back into her wheeled-chair. âNow you too: sit!â She pushed a few paces. âAnd remind me what the plan was again.â
Ayla claps her hands together after she sits down, her fingers steepled together. âThe plan is simple. Jocasta the magnificent will go brazen with confidence as she holds the Duque to account with an offer too good to refuse. She will play it smart and with an open hand to build rapport. He is going to be suspicious and contemplating in those first moments if it is worth sitting at the table, so the initial plan is to give him a good reason to stay seated there.â, she straightens her shoulders and makes herself look brimming with confidence. âAyla on the other hand will have a nice position overlooking the proceedings. She will be expected to play an instrument at some point and polite greetings, but he would not be expecting much. Perhaps a meek noble girl. Ayla would be easily overlooked providing her perfect opportunities to act if needed.â
She moves to open up her bag as she starts to bring out various papers, âThis petition for the King⊠may be worthwhile making a similar plea to Duque Frannemas instead. He will be more likely to grant and fulfill the wishes in exchange for certain assurances.â. She taps the paper as she looks towards Jo, âWould this be a compromise that would be accepted amongst the family?â
âMust everyone exist under someone else?â Jocasta grated, but she already knew her answer. âBut I know it is the best weâll get. He will push to make us his soldiers, you know, or take away our freedom if we cannot prove ourselves a useful weapon.â They were rolling now, Ayla halfway respectable at it. Only another tethered on two or less would know her for a fraud. âBe conciliatory, but donât budge on bottom-line things.â
âMy plan is to make the bottom-line look like a great idea of his own making, cannot go wrong with a good story or a well placed metaphor. Besides being used as a falcon in his employ can be a rewarding existence, treated very well and afforded privileges, there may be those amongst your number who would volunteer. An unique opportunity.â Ayla does ponder the realities of the situation, âWe would be required to do a demonstration of strength and that would be Shai-aberraciĂłn. Letâs hope our preparations are enoughâ. She does sigh a little as she thinks back to her own demonstration before them all, âIf it were feasible, pushing for relocating everyone to the Arapor would be my desire. It may not be a bad back plan to fall-back on if it comes down to negotiating for our lives. Perhaps that could be Aylaâs offering if it comes to the crunch or when needing to present an alternativeâ.
âI will be there if needed,â Jocasta said simply. It had occurred to her in recent days just how chained she had been. Truly, the only thing stopping her was herself. She could kill the duke and his children, probably with ease, and take care of a consistent thorn in the kingâs side. She could rule as duchess from the refuge, and turn it into a shining beacon for her people. Others would not go out for her plan, though. Others might get hurt were she to do it. Why couldnât the people she now called friends be as strong as her? She shook her head to clear the ridiculous idea. There were paths other than blood and fire. âNow,â she announced, âthis is where we split up. I slip into the auditorium from the back She gestured as she coasted. âand you roll up the front gate.â Leaning to the side and rubbernecking a bit, she scowled. âHurry, Jocasta,â she teased. âI think theyâre almost there!â
âJocastaâ puts on a mischievous smile, âDonât worry, Ayla. Everything's coming up Jocasta.â She puts on airs as she tries to roll along, putting herself in the right headspace as she imagines Jocastaâs powerful self, brimming with confidence. She makes exaggerated pushes upon the wheels to represent this, rolling to meet Amanda and Manuel by the gate to greet the Duque. Prepared to smile and wave, she fiddles with the brakes to secure herself once beside them. Some instruction on that wouldâve been nice.
Ayla shares her plan with Jocasta to swap places. They dress up as eachother. Plan for 'Jocasta' to negotiate, whilst the meek 'Ayla' can slip under the radar as the hidden trump card.
Dreams. Dreams have the power to affect the world around us. They reflect the unconscious thoughts, the realities we experience. They may be bizarre, they may be scary, they may be joyous. For this lion club, it happened to be all three.
Her close friend Ysilla had to return to the academy, whilst she didnât speak much, her silence did lift the room. Her presence was heartwarming, that smile she gave when she saw you looking towards her always made Ayla bemused. She wasnât able to say goodbye, with Ysilla reported to be in some medical emergency, but she hoped that wasnât the last she could see of her. A letter was left behind, but that seemed to be not enough. The rhythmic Tick Tock from the dream being the final words shared between them.
Did dreams predict the future? Does the mind's eye reach a temporospatial plane or do dreams simply reflect the patterns our unconscious mind informs us about.
Ayla looks out towards the yellow sea, dreaming of home as she plays upon her flute. One step in front of another as she gracefully walks along the walk balancing. With a hurried step she moves to a hop and prance, the sweet melody fills the air. The music flowing like the tide of the sea, the ebb and flow cast upon the refĂșgio. The sound being her stage as she performs.
Her steps were as light as air, as they danced upon the music, the notes ringing out as she danced over the sand dunes, her mind lost in her thoughts. She contemplates how she had to constantly be positive for the others despite the fears and dread she experienced herself. To be cast aside to the far flung deserts, far from her home, to be met with the wild dangers within the last 48 hours that far exceed her fear of the spider in the bath-tub. Her mind turns to the friends she has made along the way. Seeing Jocasta, the blonde girl who smiled for the first time sincerely for the longest time. Confidence grows in Kaspar as he starts feeling like he belongs somewhere. Zaz being as sassy as ever, but showing that kindness and openness underneath. Yalen developing from a meek boy and showed bravery for the first time.
As she looked back towards the refĂșgio, thinking upon the memories that were made, she was surprised at how small it looked. The moment of realisation came as she fell, Sound Platforms. The puff of powdered sand cast up in the air as she lands, unscathed.
Montage
Sound. Sound is vibration. Sound is the movement of air, liquid, and solids. It is perceived by the ear. It can reach soundless pitches. This is something she will learn to master.
Ayla raises her hands up as the sand around her starts to vibrate. At first, this was very minor, the sand seeming to shift lightly as she started to increase the amplitude, which increased the loudness and strength of the sound waves as the sand started to bounce upon the floor. She moves her hands as she alters the direction, causing the sound to concentrate upon certain areas, creating patterns upon the ground below her. She increases the speed of the sound, showing how the affected areas grow and shrink in their size. Her hands push and pull together as she changes the wavelength of the sound, changing the pitch of the âmusicâ around her. She increases the frequency as the changes blend together, creating more sound. Ayla concentrates the sound, increasing its intensity in the area, the grains clump together in a sphere-like pattern, the sand spitting up into the air moving in a liquid manner similar to that of a lava lamp.
The sound pressure increases as she feels the world become heavy around her, her body starting to feel significantly heavier causing her to release the magic, and thus the sound, causing an eruption which sends her flying backwards across the soft sand.
Ayla lays back upon the sands as she stares up into the sky. The theory session has completed, she has gotten a grip of the variables she needs to control and how they feel through her manas. This is something she has been doing for years, but breaking down the components was new, visualising and controlling the variations directly rather than instinctively, turning them into building blocks of her very own brand of sonic magic.
Starting small, she concentrates sound together. This is likely to be the most difficult part as she tries to find shapes that work. Flat shapes worked best, compared to bumpy, though parabolic shape concentrates sound, and conic shapes for projecting sound. As she is trying to concentrate it together, forming it into a ball of sound, perhaps a Sonic-Sphere is the best shape for sound consistency as the waves are re-concentrated into the centre. Another concept was the formation of sheets made of held-air which trap sound between them, akin to double glazing, called Sonic-Sheets did appear to offer promising results as well..
Time to experiment with these. Using the balls of sound, she casts these with her hands towards the sand in a linear line. Each flick of her wrist causes the sand to erupt from the ground as if she was firing bullets into it. She mentally writes down the basis of this as Sonic-Shots.
With the sheets, these seem better for static uses. After putting one up and throwing her shoe at it, she watches as the shoe appears to bounce off as the musical note rings out, though breaking upon contact. With the reflection, she draws parallels with a shield, dubbing this one Sonic-Shield. Implementing this concept upon the ground, she steps upon it, causing her to be pushed upwards and end up falling backwards. As she lays there, she recalls when she was unintentionally doing it earlier, using soft light steps and dancing along the platforms as they gave her a lift. She makes a mental note for Sonic-Steps to be the other concept to expand upon.
After the training out in the Desert, she makes her way back. Time to get to work.
RefĂșgio
The hours and meal times pass as she begins her various duties around the refĂșgio. She has now met the new students, each of them peculiar characters, and the less said about the yasoi girl, the better. Between helping the tethered children with their magic practising, supporting with the chores, and the late night practising of her own magic, things have been busy.
As LaĂ«lle brought news of the Duqueâs arrival, Ayla uses the opportunity to find her friend and begin to discuss the plan for when he arrives. There are going to be some difficult conversations ahead.
Ayla gets lost in her thoughts. Ayla decides to deconstruct sonic magic, creating some mental concepts to practice and expand upon. Ayla does her duties around the Refuge, helping train the children, chores, and some late night private practice. Ayla has a closed conversation with Jocasta about how to handle the Duque. See Collab entries for Silas, Vieri, and Casii in their respective posts.
Event: Defense of Relouse |Location: The Bloodied Fields, Parrence.
A battle is a contest of fights, the song struck together by the fury of battle. The instruments of war, the spear, blade and axe ring out along the battlefield. There is one thing binding all within this song, and that is belief, belief that their lives this day serves a higher purpose. May this purpose be the will of the gods, may this purpose be the safety of our loved ones, may this purpose be the bread baking on our hearths. In this carnage, these rivers are blood, our purpose opposes that of our foe, and for that, this is the hill we die upon.
Flashback
MaĂ«lle sits upon the horse as she rides with her father. She races against him up towards the tall hill, despite his concerns for both her and the horse, giggling as she reaches the summit, looking around to the lands below. Parrence. This is the land of her birth, the one her family has lived on for generations since before the times of the great Avincian Empire. Asier follows up after her, laughing like he usually does, âLooks like you are the greatest daughter of Arslan after allâ. MaĂ«lle huffs as her father makes one of his Dad jokes again, âDa, the only daughter of Arslanâ, he holds his hands up with a smirk, âWell, if your mother is having her way, that isnât a title you would be holding on for longâ, MaĂ«lle looks back in disgust, âEwww DaâŠ!â. He gives an almighty chuckle at her response, âWouldnât it be great to have a little brother or sister?â. She moves herself against him in a sulk, her father isnât around enough as it is, and the idea of sharing him with others is not something she is too keen about.
Asier softens his smile as he looks out towards the horizon, âEverything the light touches, is Parrenceâ. MaĂ«lle looks out as she sees the billowing green and yellow fields of the farm lands, the green tips of the woods, the brown mountains which border the region, and a place of darkness in the south, âWhat about that shadowy place?â. Asier looks out to the lands of the Eskandr, âThose are not our lands, they lie beyond our borders. It is a home to barbaric people who lust for violence and glory in battle, who enslave their fellow man and sacrifice them to their gods. You must never go there, MaĂ«lle.â She looks up to him, the curiosity of a child still with her, âBut why donât you go and drive them out? They wonât be able to stand up to you, Daâ. Asier smiles as he ruffles his hand through her hair, the innocence still there with her, âBeing brave doesnât mean you go looking for trouble. It is standing up when you have toâ. MaĂ«lle tilts her head to the side as she fails to comprehend the full meaning of the words, âHuh, guess even lions get scared.â
Asier roars with laughter, swotting her across the back of the head, âYou have my tongue, no wonder your mother pines for you to travel with me.â She rubs her head, pouting, then returns the embrace of his hug, sinking into the warmth within those arms. "Everything exists together in a delicate balance. If this tips too steeply, the very thing you are fighting for can fall down. You need to understand that balance and respect it. If we over-hunt, we reduce the availability of meat for the next season, the pests they keep in check start to overwhelm our harvest. We need to respect all the creatures, from the singing rolieiro, to the galloping mare. Even the Eskandr exist within the great balance.â
Present
Asier has secured the flanks for King Arcel as he fights with Hrothgar the Chartreuse, the black armour stained by the green fields of Parrence as he defiles the land he walks on. The battle rages on, and any who enter the proximity are easily overwhelmed by the might and fury of the warriors. He casts his glance as he spots the Laughing Knight attempting to retreat from a rhinoceros of a man. He saddles his bow as he grips firmly upon the reins, âSo much for not looking for troubleâ, he gallops with great speed towards the duelling warriors, watching in disgust as the rhino breaks through the Parrench defenders like a hot knife through butter, his blood lust fixated upon the Laughing Knight as he tramples all those that get between him and his quarry.
Sons and Daughters of Parrence stand up to the brute, laying down their lives, adding their sparks to the great fires of destiny, each sacrifice hoping to turn the tide of the onslaught against their countrymen. Their lives flickering in an instant, their hopes, their dreams, their ambitions, all disappearing into the darkness.
Asier gallops on ever faster as his fingers grip tighter. The knuckles whitening as the blood is drained from them. Destiny cannot play out like this, this cannot be the will of that man, the cruel master of fate.
Flashback
A dark haired yasoi man stands before the stableman, blowing upon his hands and holding them out towards the stables as if warming them upon the raging fire as the horses whinnied in their torment. Thankfully the horses manage to escape as they flee across the great plains away from the burning inferno. A woman cradling a baby huddled behind the stableman, scared and frightened, tears down her face. There have been reports of pillaging in the area, the Tourrare being requested to stay on their guard.
The yasoi man snarls, â⊠what an abomination of a blood line. Humans are an error of time...â, he kicks over the feeding trough âWhen I said I wanted a horse, I wasnât askingâ. The stableman has never seen a yasoi before, despite the people's reputation of being wanderers, they tend to keep to the forests rather than be out in the plains. âYou have the wrong place, we are stable folk, horsemen, we know of no grievances against the Yasoi here.â The yasoi manâs face grows wide with a grimace, âAs it should be. So letâs return to our chat, give your horses, your coin, and some time with your pretty little wife here.â The man licks his lips as he eyes the stablemanâs wife up and down with his lustful gaze.
The stableman clutches upon the pitchfork within his hands, âNot even over my dead body.â Yasoiâs eyes light up at the sound of those words, âThat can be arranged.â He raises his hand over towards the stableman, the power of the gift concentrates in his fingertips, causing surges of lightning to engulf the stableman in his tracks. The screams of the man's wife Giselle behind him as he feels the electricity flick across his body, scorching in a pattern similar to that of a whip, the wounds splitting and flaying his skin, the only thing between this monster and the people he loves⊠and would die for.
The stableman squeezes harder upon his pitchfork. In this moment, there is only silence for him, the pain numbing as he looks up into the Yasoi manâs eyes. Those yellow yasoi eyes, they widen with fury as the stableman is still standing, âDie! Your excuse of a bloodline shall be no moreâ, the humble stableman Asier pushes with everything he has got as he charges and impales the Yasoi vagabond upon the end of the pitchfork. âNo⊠you should be deadâŠ!â the yasoi man cries. As the lightning washed over Asier's body, this awakened his natural affinity with the gift, harnassing this new power as he uses it to drive ever forward, his eyes shining a bright blue. âI shall seize fate by its throat for I am not its prisoner.â The charge builds up at the end of the prongs, drawing all the lightning towards it before they connect, the raw energy causing an explosion, creating a roar like a lion, ripping the Yasoi man in half as the dismembered body flings in opposite directions, the eruption causing Asier to fly backwards.
âCurse you, Arslan (Lion)⊠curse your entire bloodline⊠Vyshta shall come for your pound of flesh from this day.â
Flashback
Asier feels the King Arcelâs blade upon his shoulder. Ever since that day, he has left his home, enrolling in the Kingâs service, training and fighting, becoming a better warrior, a champion for his family, a protector for his daughter. The awareness of his responsibilities and his lack of power were not lost on him. Only by becoming a servant of the King, he may hope he will become able to fulfil these responsibilities.
âNow rise, Baron of Hierbamonte. It is expected that you take a name and a sigil for your house.â Asier stands proud before the king, âArslan. The name of my house is Arslan. The sigil will be of the Lion for its courage and bravery.â
âArslan? A Tourrare name. Well then, Ser Arslan. I am expecting great things from you and your people.â
Present
Asier finally approaches the fight, the laughing knight on the backfoot as him and his illusions are swinging their weapons towards the Nashorn as the rhino strikes back in return, smashing through the illusions one by one. Shockwaves from the aftermath of his blows were leaving a path of destruction all around, the rhino was a tough opponent to be sure, a beast of man who ate at least five bowls of oat porridge for his breakfast each morning at least. He cocks two arrows within his bow, aiming to take the beast down a peg as he arms for the back of his knee caps to halt the monster in his tracks.
The arrows freeze in mid-air as the Nashorn turns to peer back towards Asier. Whilst nothing back be seen beneath his mighty helm, it could be nothing but pure malevolence that lies underneath. The arrows were sent back towards the direction of Asier. The arrows are returned at high velocity, impaling the horse rider in the neck and chest as he topples from his horse. Asier counting his nine lives as the illusion falls down just before him, watching over to the disgust of the Nashorn and the quick thinking of the laughing knight. Monster was the understated description for whatever this vile beast is.
Asier has not even crossed metal with such an opponent before, the fact he would have been taken down without the Nashorn even bothering to turn to attack him was a prospect he has never once considered in a battle. He stayed back a moment, working up the courage to strike again as this time his distraction allowed opportunity for the Laughing Knight and the Warrioress to strike at weak points upon the beast. He has never been one to underestimate an opponent, and targeting a distracted opponent in a weak spot was usually a simple task, like spearing a roast hog, though in circumstance, it is an angry hedgehog with 5ft steel spines. He decided to build up speed as he reached down for one of his throwing spears, circling back upon himself with it raised as he charged at full gallop. With the Nashorn taking a couple of deep blows, he should be able to pierce that flesh this time, and he empowers his throw with the force in his attempt to make it ring true...
An arrow is propelled before him at high speed, if it wasnât for his magnetic aura, it would have struck true, as the shot sails past him, ruining his charge against the Nashorn. Asier uses thunder magic to try to guide it back to the shooter as the Nashorn, enraged, lashes out towards him, as the arrows are redirected back towards him impaling the illusion copy of himself. He has absolutely no chance against the Nashorn, and he is already down to seven lives thanks to the assist from the Laughing Knight. He knows he is clearly outmatched in this battle with his presence having a negative effect, he redirects his attention to the Eskandr archer champion.
Asier watches as the archer is already redirecting the arrows that the Nashorn used to take out the doppelganger as they get recalled back to her quiver, or he would have assumed until he watches her pirouette into the air, unleashing another barrage back towards him, followed by another shot ladened with a payload. He was able to evade the arrows, though the explosive package caught him off-guard as he was almost unsaddled from his horse from the force of it.
Asier was certainly caught on two fronts, the Nashorn with his immovable defence and his unstoppable offence, and the Eskandr archer targeting her new prey with ever increasing ferocity. The archer adapted so quickly to less conventional weaponry, perceiving the magnetic shell, to get through his defences and countering his ability to counterattack became a very real and present danger. He turns his horse towards her, decreasing his profile, as he starts to fire back an arrow of his own, then adopting an evasive pattern with his riding.
The archer goes into cover as slippery as a snake as his shot misses the mark, impaling into an illusion of her making. She responded with further arrows of her own, the iron with a red hue as they were imbued with arcane energy, the tips molten to cause more permanent damage. Thankfully these shots fired wide as he cocks his bow to return fire himself. It is in this moment he had two decisions, either to retreat and cause the archer to move from her position to come towards him, or to make up the difference, and go in for a lunge within melee range. Whilst typical sense would have been to skirmish, this wasnât the time or place for that, he needed to halt her advance now. He used multiple arrows within his bow as he fired towards her repeatedly in rapid succession. Accuracy was less than desired, but this was not his purpose, he needed her to stay within the same position, suppressive fire, opening her up for his follow up attack. He charged towards her with great haste in an attempt to close the distance as her counterattack failed to make a mark.
Flashback
âDa, what happens when we die?â MaĂ«lle studied the rabbit being cooked before her on the spit as the rich seasoned aroma was making their mouths water. Asier is amazed at the curiosity of children, always coming out with the big questions everyone seems to always take for granted. âIf you ask the Eskandr, they say you end up in Valhalla. A place of joy and feasting. In old Avincian before the Pentad, they believed when they die, they are given wings, to live upon the clouds. Across the sea in Severa, there is said to be a people who worship large snake-like creaturesâŠâ
MaĂ«lle starts to pout as she looks towards Asier, not being satisfied with any of these âifâ answers. âBut what really happens?â, she asks again more affirmatively. Asier strokes his beard as he mulls over the answer. âWhen we die, we join the earth. The earth grows crops, then this rabbit eats the crops, and now we eat this rabbit. It is all connected like a wheel.â. MaĂ«lle nods as she accepts the answer and the food, her fingers becoming sticky with grease.
âDoes that mean the rabbit ate grandpa?â.
Present
The Eskandr archer dropped to one knee as Asier charged. He rode towards her to close the distance, the hooves digging into the rich soil as he travelled at high speed. Naturally the champion has met her fair share of knights and isnât afraid of what is to come. She crouches before him without fear, poised in her position and her bow raised. He raises his own spear as he lines up for the follow-through attack, aiming to impale the archer with his shaft. He comes upon her with great haste, only to find he has missed his target, feeling the arrow pierce through his chest. He looked around, only to notice that the archer had rolled to the side in a burst of speed, taking advantage of his exposed flank to target him. The next moments take time to register the damage, the fatal error he made to an opponent who had already shown strong improvisation skills.
The horse slowed down as it stumbled forward as it walked into the ambush, the trap prepared earlier. The arcane arrows erupted around him, shot after shot impaled into the horse and his body. Espirito whinnied, crying out in torment as it reared up high in its final defiance of death before falling down backwards upon its rider, the one who raised it from a foal.
Asier in that moment could only see red. The fluttering red hair, the warm smile upon MaĂ«lleâs face as she silently shouted âDa!â out towards him, as he crashes into the bloodied mud swamps of the battlefield. Laying there under the body of his trusted steed, âI failed youâŠâ.
Vyshta extracted her pound of flesh that day.
Asier plays the hero, trying to rescue people. Flashbacks to his fantastic daughter and why you should all love her. Flashback to a man of humble beginnings wanting to protect his family. Flashback to said man being knighted by King Arcel, to gain the power to protect his loved ones. Asier fought Vyshta the Nashron and Ulfhild, losing. Flashback to a conversation about death. Asier bleeding out on the battlefield.
Prologue This is a story that takes place in Ersand'Enise, a name that sounds like when one sneezes after being brushed by chilly breeze. This is home to the Academy of Thaumaturgy, a place for fancy words and even fancier wizard hats. Across the land of Sipenta, the best and brightest of those born during the double ascendance of Shune the Learner, join the storied establishment's newest cohort. They bring their hopes, their fears, their background, and considerable power in 'The Gift' with them. Into this potent mix of burgeoning opportunity and where lurking peril lies, they step forward, the Magical-Animals known as Magimals.
The Magimals were summoned before the great tree, only known to them as the Paradigm. They entered the room in single file, one-by-one, there were six of them in total. The first to arrive is the chihuahua known as Jocasta, with long blonde hair and riding a wagon, the girl had a mysterious air about her as she yaps in greeting. Next the Virangish sisters walked in one after the other, both elegant and tall black horses, the first with a long dark mane and sassy personality, Zarina, and tugged along behind was her sister, Ysilla, bearing a ropier white mane and a silence that fills the room. Next was the Lion Cub of Varrahasta, Ayla of Pride Arslan, purring fondly as she goes around greeting the others as she paws and curiously sniffs at them. Followed shortly by the wolf pup Kaspar, shrinking down behind the seats looking anxious, very unsure of himself. The last to join them was Yalen the Hamster, moving in a hurried manner in his orange hamster ball as he awkwardly bumps against the walls getting into position, a scholarly rodent who tended to nibble at the corner of books.
With the class assembled, the Paradigm shed his leaves as the venation pattern laid out the plans for the task ahead. It appears there are orphan Magimals in great trouble in the Dessert as there were Aberrations closing on their positions. These aberrations are dangers, they cause distortions in reality that corrupt and pollute the world. With a yap, woof, neigh, roar and a squeak, the class came together and agreed a plan to save the orphan Magimals. The great tree opens his mouth, tall and wide, creating a portal to the Torragon High Dessert, the Magimals taking their time to walk through side-by-side to embark on the great adventure ahead.
The portal deposited the Magimals upon the great sherbet sands of the Torragonese High Dessert. Their entrance was soon greeted by creatures of the aberration when the bowls of spicy Hot Salsa came rolling towards them. The original coconut puddings with mango have been corrupted by rogue ingredients of chilli, peppers, and jalapenos, turning them into fiery Hot Salsa.
Ayla released a fearsome roar to try to scare away the bowls. The cute roars have little effect, but she pounces towards them, using her paws to flick sherbet at them, using her gift to ensure they are coated in singular colours making them easier to identify.
Next Ysillaâs saddle-hatch was opened as puppets of a bird, Hoopoe, and a monkey with clown makeup called Khamsei came floating out. The bird travels along with the monkey as it flies off to combat the Hot Salsa. The monkey drops as it starts clapping its two cymbals together repeatedly, and the bird puppet lands upon the side of the bowl, pecking up and down repeatedly on its axel. The bowl falls over on top of the monkey, soiling it with its spices, though it is unable to recover as the salsa begins pouring out everywhere, defeated.
Kaspar whined as he walked around in a circle, sniffing, soon coming across a cherrywood stick. He excitedly picks it up, barking as the Bowl rolls towards him. With a howl towards the sky, a slab of chocolate brownie erupted from the sherbet before the bowl, halting it in its tracks. He ducks behind as he paws into the sherbet to hide, hoping the bowl goes away. To Kasparâs surprise, when he eventually looks he finds it tipped over and spilling its contents upon the sherbet sand.
Yalen was more decisive in his strike. His heart beat three times as much that day as he struggled to watch the torment of how delicious innocent puddings were turned into hot salsa. The anticipatory indigestion was too much, even for a hamster, growing a sweat. With a dramatic gopher stare in his arsenal, the gods watched with approval. The bowl of Hot Salsa started bubbling viciously as it splattered out upon the sand around it. Yalen went to see if there was anything he could salvage, but the aroma got the better of his stomach.
The ever gallant Zarina was a thing of beauty as the long black mane fluttered in the breeze. She neighed proud and loud, clomping straight towards the biggest and baddest bowl of Hot Salsa that was sprinkled with the infamous Virangish pepper. Dancing around the bowl, she missed the foul aromas, building up momentum through prancing, and with a great rock of her body, pushed straight down upon her forelegs as her hindlegs kicked out hard, booting over the bowl like a mighty buckaroo.
Jocasta was feeling abandoned as she had not moved forward with the others, her wagon struggling to move through the sand. She starts to yap aggressively as the Hot Salsa approaches, the incessant yapping was enough to make the salsa curdle. Upon seeing her super angry chihuahua face, the Bowl turns to the side as it hurried off into the opposite direction, moving at a great and sudden speed which causes it to tip over and splatter out its contents.
Ayla was confronted by the last and remaining bowl. Unsure of how to deal with a vegetarian meal, she pounced around it, keeping it distracted as she released a series of roars to confuse the poor bowl into not knowing which way to turn as it grew unbalanced. Zarina grew annoyed as she charged towards the bowl, head butting it over as she glared down towards the Lion Cub and whinnied at her for playing with the food.
It wasnât long till the class rounded up after their encounter with the bowls of Hot Salsa. One of the students appeared to be storing some of the leftover untainted Mango within his cheek pouches for later. To get to the Patisserie where the Orphan Magimals reside, they decide to ride upon Zarinaâs back with Ysilla following up behind her sister.
The Magimals were in deep conversation on their way to the destination. Zarina neighed for Ayla to warm up the coffee jug as Kaspar shivered nervously due to this being his first time riding a horse. Ysilla shared wisewords with her silence as she gave her fixed wooden stare towards them, Yalen taking these to heart as he contends with the digestive choices of eating leftovers so close to spicy food. Jocasta yaps distressed as she recalls the experience of being in the Patisserie herself. Terrible encounters with the wait staff there as they provided a horrendous service, long queues, and forcing her to eat chocolate even though she is a dog, Ayla was trying to comfort her as she paws towards her, accepting the chihuahua into her pride. The class was resolute, united in their goal of working together to bring back the joy which came with Dessert.
What came next was a shock as they heard human screams and shouts, âArena Malvada! - Evil sherbetâ. It seems some wait staff were sent out to find them and have run into trouble. It turns out to be fear itself, Pepino-Dessierto, the mighty Cucumber that resides in the sherbet to prey on unsuspecting Desserters.
Ayla is super scared as she hisses out, the green skin and watery sour texture is definitely something that shouldnât be eaten. She growls her orders to the other Magimals as they prepare for it charging towards them. They start to arrange for a fork to be created out of sherbet, Kaspar waving his cherrywood stick at it, Ysilla deep in concentration, and Yalenâs spicy breath making it hot. Powered by the incessant yapping of Jocasta, Zarina boots the fork as it twists, turns, and swirls through the air as it makes its way towards Chocolate Fudge Mountain. After it impales the mountainside with a quelch, wobbling fiercely, it gives the impression of simulating the experience of it being eaten. Confused by these events and its desire to be consumed, the Cucumber heads over into that direction, allowing the class to escape to the Patisserie without having to endure its foulness.
The class proceeds with haste as they make their way to the Patisserie. Their arrival is soon greeted by the orphan Magimals who rush out excitedly to meet them, witnessing the events against the Hot Salsa and Pepino-Dessierto, treating them like aspiring heroes.
Kaspar meets a wolf pup just like him called Felix, as they sniff each other suspiciously in that dog-like greeting, then soon becoming friendly as Kaspar shows him his cherrywood stick and start to play tug-o-war together. Yalen is greeted by a field mouse called Rita, sharing some of his stored mango with her as she excitedly jumps all over his hamster ball, causing him to grow a little dizzy. Ayla is greeted by a Cougar from Mewiatto who wishes to roar like her, as Ayla encourages her to do with a ferocious roar. Jocasta is met by a German Shepherd pup called Marci, sharing a kinship only fellow dogs can have as if they have known each other for years despite setting eyes upon each other for the first time. Zarina meets a donkey who looks up to her in awe, hoping a horse may know far more about his parentage than the humans of this place, whilst a little marmoset girl excitedly rides upon Ysillaâs back rocking backwards and forwards with glee.
There is a ring of the dinner bell as the head baker approaches. The smell of a Naranja bundt cake fills the air as the head baker, Maria Baya, makes her presence known to the Magimals. âNow come on children, leave the customers alone, tonightâs supper will have to be cancelled as we serve our guestsâ, the orphans made their way inside grumbling, their little tummies rumbling. Maria turns to address the students, âIâm the head baker here, I welcome you and would like to apologise for the chaotic introduction, we just cannot get the staff these days. Marcia, show them to their tables as we prepare to serve themâ. The German Shepherd pup rides a wagon similar to Jocastaâs own as she barks for the doors to open, rolling into the PĂątisserie, passing a table occupied by skeletons with the order ticket still on display.
The Magimals quickly realised there was much to be done here beyond what was shown upon the leaves.
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