Vertigo

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Will wait for Krog's post before doing my own, gotta know who's paying for that ice cream, in the end :D

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Hope everything gets sorted for you IRL, 'Sheeps! Can definitely relate to just needing a break. Rest up and enjoy that hiatus.

Got my post started, but had to catch up on some other things as well, so will need to finish tomorrow. Sorry for the wait!

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Will also post this weekend!

SPIRITUM

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Silje was interested in the princess's predicament, and wanted to hear her out when she explained the intricacies of Vangar's politics. But she said so much, using so many words, that Silje could not help losing focus midway through. She did get the general gist, though; Vangar's senate was a mess, and the most likely culprit behind last night's attack was one of their own. Someone who didn't want the war to end, even if that meant killing their own royalty.

She wasn't an expert, but wasn't that treason? Wasn't treason punishable? What sort of punishment did Vangar have for that, she wonder--

Whoa!

Silje leaned forward where she sat, hands cupped around her eyes as she peered further ahead the road. Smoke. There was smoke rising from what seemed to be a wreck. Needing to let someone know, she started waving her hands frantically, leaning down towards a window, and quickly found Gerard.

Once they were close enough to have no other choice, their truck stopped. In turn, Silje moved. She hopped off the roof, hurrying after the others who were already busy at work. Val was checking out the truck's engine, Kali was keeping an eye on the perimeter, and Morden hoisted the leaking tanker up to carry it elsewhere. Justice was doing her whole bosslady thing. Gerard existed. They were already covering a lot of ground as far as essential tasks went.

Not wanting to be left twiddling her thumbs, Silje turned to the RV Gerard had commented on, and declared it her responsibility. Avoiding the leakage on the road, she skipped over to the RV, climbed atop it, banged on its side, tried to peer inside. She wasn't sure what she was searching for yet; splatters of colour, bodies, people lying in ambush, a stash of snacks now left without an owner. She wasn't picky, really.

Though she could have used those snacks.

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Posted! Hope I got everything right

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

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She should've never trusted him with Isabella. He should've never trusted himself with Isabella.

That was the first and last thought in Abel's mind, before his daughter's screams became his entire world. Vision tunneling, he dashed inside the daycare — or at least, he thought he had. Looking around now, he wasn't sure where the hell he'd ended up. The jungle gym itself wasn't that out of place, he figured, never actually having set foot inside a daycare before. A room with a bunch of them and no way out? With some creepy spray painted text? Slides leading into who knew where? Starting to look out of place. And where had he even entered this damn place from? There was no door.

"Truth, huh. Now what truth would that be..." he mumbled as he stared at the text, rubbing at his knuckles to steady his hands, still shaking from anger. Rampaging through the damn place wouldn't help. If anything, it'd make it even more difficult to find an exit, he wagered.

Abel took a step closer to the slides, nearing the one without text, when he heard giggling. He froze, quickly unclenching his hands and assuming a more relaxed posture, just in case there were children about. "Someone out there?" he called in what he hoped was at least a semi-friendly tone — but probably wasn't.

Through the netting, he could see movement in the ball pit. He expected to see children, terrified and hiding from whatever was going on. The more the voices spoke, though, the clearer it was that they did not belong to children. Not... sane ones, anyway.

Then they spoke her name.

Abel lashed closer to the netting, trying to see who — or what — lurked in the pit. "Who are you? Who is doing this? What do you w—"

Another giggle. He whirled around, gaze searching the floor below, until it landed on a pink teddy bear. The voice seemed to be coming from it. Was he supposed to believe the toy talked? Bullshit. It must've had a voice box inside. Perhaps it was even a small robot. Regardless, someone had to be responsible for it, and that someone must've been watching.

The pink teddy bear wasn't making much more sense than the other voices had. "Who are 'they?'"

A thud.

Once again, Abel was forced to turn around and find the source of the noise. This time, it was pretty easy; a steel pole was crossing the room from floor to ceiling, and he could have sworn it wasn't there before. Abel's gaze followed the thing up to the hole. He could probably use that to climb. Better than the slides. But that meant getting down from his vantage point and crossing a room with... something out there, waiting for him. He knew he wasn't alone.

Abel drew in a breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head. Right. Calm down. Just... one damn thing at a time. Before anything else, he stuck a hand into his pocket, fished out a few doggy treats — which the voices had also mentioned, through what had to be a freak coincidence — and tried tossing some into the ball pit he'd first heard the voices from.

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

@Vertigo Since you got a 9 on your moon magic roll, pick 1 of the following:
- The magic is exceptionally powerful.
- The magic remains within your control.

@XxFellsingxX

Hmm, let's go with "The magic remains within your control", so it can hopefully work more precisely to pinpoint a source/reason for the chaotic magic (if any) as she moves forward.

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

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Well.

The good news was that Garrock was indeed slower once he was up in the sky, and with few things to obscure the large dragon against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, he was much easier to keep track of besides.

... The bad news was that keeping up with the old coot quickly turned out to be the least of Fellwing's problems.

It started as an uncomfortable prickling sensation, a warning so clear even Shieldwing would've noticed it. Much like him, however, Fellwing did not heed it, stubbornly — if a little more carefully, now — pushing deeper into the woods. It couldn't have been that big a trek, surely. She'd be in and out before anything bad happened.

Except... the very air itself didn't seem to want her to get in at all. By now, what had started as the prickling of tiny needles had turned into the sensation of a thousand blades pressing into her scales, trying to force her back. And the moment she stopped pushing forward with her entire body, she felt her feet sliding, had to spread out her wings to try and better resist the push. But she knew it wouldn't help for long. Whatever this... magic was, she could not tame it with her wings.

But perhaps with magic, she might. Even at the risk of sliding backwards, Fellwing stopped. This was no longer about reaching Garrock, who she hadn't even glanced up at in a while. No, this was about figuring out what was going on with the magic here. She had to find its source, had to find whatever it did not want her to see.

She closed her eyes, thinking about the Shadows, but opting to call for the Liberty Moon, instead. May it give her clarity, and guide her through whatever manner of chaos or curse hindered her.

ooc

Fellwing returns a friendship gem to Skobeloff and calls for the Liberty Moon with a 9.

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

... I love Garnet already.

Also is she asking for 'tar-flavoured' ice cream? Garnet, I don't know what you've been eating, but that's not a proper flavor.

@XxFellsingxX

Thanks, she's much fun to write!

Hahaha, that she is indeed, and as a Finn, I can assure you that tar ice cream is a real flavor! B) _{(But I'm not claiming it's good...)}

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

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_{Great Bazaar, Market Ward, Sigil
@Lurking Krog, @XxFellsingxX, @Abstract Proxy, @Guardian Angel Haruki}

Well, throw her to the waves and call her a pebble, the Great Bazaar sure had a fitting name! Whoever'd come up with it knew what they were doing. More so than her, anyway. She was absolutely lost, and it was only partly her fault this time.

Garnet had come to the Bazaar with a purpose in mind, lured by the rumours of a portal and a person who could take her there. If she had received more details, she'd long since forgotten them, and never had any actual leads or plans besides. Upon arrival, she'd realized that made her mission pretty much impossible; trying to find one specific person in the Great Bazaar was like trying to find one specific rock on a mountain. Worse, actually, because mountains were far easier on the senses! They were quiet places, at least after all the dwarves had gone to sleep.

Garnet had a hard time believing the Bazaar was ever quiet. She'd gotten overwhelmed fast and hard and was still reeling, a few hours in. From the shouts of the vendors to the clinking of coins exchanging hands, to the smell of incense, food and a million more things she couldn't even name, to the myriad of colours she hadn't known existed, there was never a break for any of her senses. And the moment she dared stop to marvel at any one thing was the moment someone bumped into her or, worse, stepped on her. She'd been responsible for at least three overturned carts that hadn't seen her in time, and the slashed shin of a man who had, but hadn't much cared. He was fine now, probably. The crowd had swallowed her and carried her away before she'd to witness the aftermath. The blood had stuck to her though, only partially covered by the sand and dust kicked up by the people that stomped their way past her.

And Garnet loved it. She was grinning from one dirty ear to the other, losing herself into the crowd and then popping back out elsewhere like a green, mischievous mercat, fingers made sticky with opportunity. She might've made a better thief had she been able to stop cackling for a second, but had managed to gather some souvenirs regardless.

She was humming to herself now, clutching her latest acquisition; a piece of parchment with... well. She wasn't... she wasn't sure exactly what was depicted, but it sure looked complicated, and that alone must've meant it was worth something. With a grin, the goblin stuffed the loot into her pocket, next to the two funny spheres that made annoying noises when brought together. Now then, what did she want nex—

"—to give other spell-casters a bit of edge in a fight."

Garnet stopped at that particular sales pitch, coming from a nearby ice cream stall. That... was her, wasn't it? She was a spellcaster. And though she was armed with quite a few edges, kept hidden in her pockets and sleeves, one could never have too many. Especially if they tasted delicious.

"Oh and if my customers are to be believed, they taste pretty good too."

Oh, she was sold.

Garnet hurried closer, noticing the hag that ran the stall was busy trying to sell to a ragtag group of four, one of whom — a tall, tall man who Garnet hurt her neck trying to look up at — was offering to pay for the rest. One of those hospitable, kind gestures the dwarves had always tried to teach to her, with varying degrees of success. She'd always been better at accepting offers than giving them out.

With the hag's attention elsewhere, Garnet wondered if she could sneak over and get herself a scoop, when one of the people declined the tall man's offer. Garnet had to do a double take. She declined? An offer? For free ice cream?! Her ears stood up, eyes widening. Like her mother always said, one woman's waste rock was the base of another's house. She couldn't let the opportunity go to waste!

Garnet scurried over to the group, eyes fixed on the hag, one hand held up in the air like a proper volunteer's ought. "I'll ta'e it!" She blurted out in a hurry, her accent a peculiar mix of goblin and dwarven. "Guy said 'e'd get four! 'n if she don't want 'ers, I do! Ta'! Gimme tar flavor!"