oblivium: (Default)
nightfell mods ([personal profile] oblivium) wrote in [community profile] logs2022-10-06 01:15 pm

MOD EVENT #001

A CHAOTIC RESPITE


It isn't rare for the seasons in the Netherworld to be a little erratic, though many days have passed now without much of a hint of its typical mercuriality, a good and a bad omen all at once. This respite is commonly referred to as the proverbial "calm before the storm", but it also marks the beginning of merrier celebrations. The Moons above are gilded silver, the twilight sky edged with faint pink and orange -- a sunrise phantasm, spilling over the horizon. It's an infrequent spectacle, accompanied by a dulcet breeze and light drizzles that seem to encourage growth nearly everywhere. Unfortunately, under its influence, people seem a little on edge, quick to anger, but no matter; around Stygia, Restless have begun hanging decorations and ornaments on trees and windowsills, left to catch the moonlight and give off marigold and ginger glows, warmly lighting up the city. Rather than fish, the smell of freshly ground spices permeates the air in the Harbors, Mirth keeps its doors opened to all, but just before the festivities officially begin, a cacophony of chimes resounds all over, a transmission difficult to ignore.

On the screen of your cellphone, nothing; only a voice, ragged, out of breath...

“The woods... Oakwoods! They've come alive! O-One minute he was complaining about the water seeping into his boots, and the next he was... he was being yanked up into the trees! We didn’t see what happened to him, but we heard... the screams, ohh, the screams. Please! Come to Serene, I beg you. This is our safest sanctuary, and the lan... oh, no... wait, no, please... please... NOOO--”


...and the feed abruptly ends, a dull chirr of static. Will you ignore the stranger's call for help and feast, or venture into the woods?

► I. KNOCK ON WOOD (OH PUCK, HE'S HOT!)
When you cross the gates of Serene, an old woman welcomes you, palm flat against her chest and disquiet in her eyes. Myrtille, her name. Oakwoods loom dense and dark in the distance behind her, groaning low as leaves rustle without wind. The Mourning Lantern was stolen, and malevolence rose in turn, dooming them all.

“It was once kept here, a sacred Artifact crafted from the bones of Serene's first founder, who gave her heart’s blood willingly to the woods in an act of contrition. It's the absence of the lantern that is contributing to the wood’s unusually active malice, and if you lot cannot retrieve it, then we must sacrifice another. Go! Take these torches and go, before Oakwoods swallow us whole.”


So you've decided to be brave. Commendable, or foolish? The wood is dark and shrouded in mist, and the trees crowd around you, an absent wind somehow whispering foul nothings in your ear as dead leaves rustle around your feet. Your Shadow basks in the murmurs, sensing the malign presence in Oakwoods as a faint, garbled scream echoes in the distance. You wander deeper and the canopy thickens, thin streaks of moonlight peppering the woods in deep patches of darkness. Behind you, a creature you can't see hisses, and a fluttering of wings nearby alerts you to the arrival of snickering harpies lurking on branches. “Dead,” they croak, in a sing-song chorus. “Dead as daylight.” Oddly enough, they seem content to just watch and stalk you, perhaps expecting you to die quickly, an easy and effortless meal.

It's a frustrating errand if you've ever known one. You barely know what you're looking for, and your Shadow thrives in the dark, taunting, coaxing. You hear it then; a haunting melody, the silhouette of a boy on a fallen tree trunk, strumming. “Come,” he says, with a voice that shimmers like the sun on moving water. If you remember what that's like. “Rest a while. Forget your troubles.” For anyone familiar, you'll recognize him as a Puck, famous prankster, and from his hand dangles a lantern.

► If you attempt to take the lantern from him, he'll immediately drop it to the ground, causing it to break. You may choose to kill him and offer his blood to the woods, or let him go and bleed in his stead. Myrtille should be able to repair what's left of the lantern once the offering's been made.
► If you politely ask to return it, he promises that he will... if you indulge him for the night.

No matter what you choose, you will come across camps, either on your way in or on your way back: pitched tents, most moth-eaten, and some containing vestiges of prior expeditions such as putrid corpses or rotten food. You've been wandering for a while, and sleep sounds terribly inviting. Unfortunately, a wind finally picks up, and leaves begin to blow around you. A nick, then a cut, then a slash reveal the leaves to have razor sharp edges. Sleep well yet? If you've spared the Puck, he'll encourage you to sit with him around a campfire, where he'll sing and tell stories. Or are they. Perhaps you've heard of Bloody Mary before. Slenderman? The Devil that'll make you dance until you die? While the lantern remains in stranger hands, the thread between reality and fiction narrows; protagonists from the Puck's legends come to life, and the only way to rid of them is by quenching the flames of the fire.

Your journey unfortunately doesn't end there. The Puck has a riddle for you:
I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?


If you fail to answer correctly, he'll vanish before you, and you can bid the lantern goodbye. You'll be forced to gather the bones from the corpses scattered across the woods, and feed it your blood -- or a friend's -- before you escape and return to the woman. The offering will leave you drained and exhausted, weak on your legs. If, on the other hand, you do answer correctly, the lantern is yours, and you'll be teleported out of the woods with a boon in your pocket: a piece of parchment invites you to visit your home in the Shadowlands. There, you'll find an object (or a pet) that belonged to you in your world.

the answer to the riddle is sparsely! it's up to you whether you'd like your character to fail.
legends told around the campfire can be any of the ones mentioned above or any other that might strike your fancy! go wild, have fun!
remember that if you pick an item from your character's world as their boon, it'll eventually disintegrate unless reforged with a soul.
.


► II. GO BIG OR GOURD HOME
Welcome to the Frightful Harvest, a festival that marks the beginning of the Respite, a temporary period of tranquility between seasons. It acknowledges the blessings offered and the role that both good and evil play in the Netherworld. It is a time to give thanks, but more importantly, it is a time of reflection and warding. Warding against not only the darkness of the next seasons to come, but of the nefarious creatures and struggles that will undoubtedly follow.

Carved pumpkins and straw bales are placed everywhere around the city, and streamers and banners are hung from every home and storefront. Decadent cakes, candies, and pastries are made in over-abundance in order to accommodate everyone, and from the lush gardens of Radiance, an elderly, dark-robed man addresses the Netherwork. You'll learn by eavesdropping on nearby Restless that his name is Doran, the oldest among you and loved by all. His smile stretches kind, and while not an official member of the Hierarchy, it's clear he has certain privileges -- well-deserved, or so you hear.

“Let us gather, feast, dance and celebrate. Let us hold our glasses high for those who heroically perished, for goodness, and for the Ascended. May their journey inspire us to change our lives and the lives of others, to resist evil, and to triumph. To you, dear friends!”


And without further ado, let the festivities begin!

► BARDIC BLITZ
The bardic blitz is a friendly competition that pits talented musicians against one another in an attempt to win over the affection of the crowd through festive melodies or personal compositions. Although it can be hosted just about anywhere, the bardic blitz is normally held in a large canvas tent directly in the heart of Mirth, though smaller crowds also gather in Serene and the Harbors around bonfires.

► FEAST
Although all cultures around Stygia bring their own tastes and specific flair to the celebrations, there are a few staple trade goods that you can find at nearly any celebration of the holiday throughout the city. Many producing the various cakes, beverages, and cookies also use the time to test and perfect their recipes, teaching others or using them as guinea pigs.
Firstdawn Tea: This revitalizing crimson tea soothes the mind and body and is brewed from the roots of the dawn flower, which only sprouts during the Respite.
Grablenuts: These fist-sized brown nuts have a hard, stippled outer shell and soft, delicious spicy centers. A single bite will slightly lower your inhibitions, and you may find yourself seeking proximity and warmth.
Elysium: A nonalcoholic beverage that smells and looks as bad as it tastes. Only those with the strongest will manage to gulp it down. Once drunk, the person experiences true bliss, which seems to last for hours; in reality, it's only a few minutes.
Will-o-the-Whiskey: Whisky with minor hallucinatory effects, visual and auditory.
Sundrop: A pound cake coated in a sugary lemon drizzle. No side-effects, just delicious!
Shadowfell Candy: Chewing on this candy will grant the character a deep and rejuvenating sleep, during which they will appear dead to anyone.
. ► HARVEST HUNT
The harvest hunt happens in a corn maze located in Mirth's amusement park, specifically created for the occasion. Because of the labyrinthian horrors dwelling in the Tempest, some find the terror-free replica a little inappropriate, yet participants still abound every time. A favorite seasonal game of the exuberant and athletic, characters take on the role of either hunter or prey, racing through the maze to either corner their quarry or escape the hands of their pursuer. As long as Shadows behave, it's a relatively safe activity. Friendly spars sometimes occur, picnics, and star-gazing.

► THE PARADE
The parade is the activity most looked forward to by younger Restless. Citizens clad in colorful costumes walk the streets to the rhythm of festive music, and according to tradition, it helps ward away any lingering evil that might try to hide in the community. For reasons unknown, incidents where Restless unwillingly swap bodies sometimes occur.

► III. WAYWARD SUN
The Warding Ritual is a private affair, a behind-the-scene execution on the last day of the festival as you dance and feast and frolic, blissfully unaware. Something goes awry. First, a shriek in the distance, and soon, birds flying away in apparent surprise as the landscape rustles with the sounds of creatures and Restless alike fleeing. A vague sense of dread knocks the air out of your lungs, an iron grip around your throat. And you see it then, a headless figure shrouded in a black veil of cloth, sword in one hand and a bright flaming pumpkin in the other. Its head. It thunders through the night on its skeletal horse, its blade flashing in the moonlight in search of prey. Heads fall. You might get injured during the chase -- collateral damage. 10 members of the Hierarchy won't ever rise again, and the rider eventually charges into the Tempest, leaving behind bloody puddles and a slather of confusion. If you opt to help clean up the mess, you might come across stained sheets of paper on the ground, a painting of a white scorpion in the middle. Otherwise, it's time for you to go home.


ooc note

► Welcome to Nightfell's first event! If you'd like additional, more casual prompts, the Notice Board is right here! New prompts will be added next month, if you've already had your fun with them!
You'll find some answered questions here, but if you'd like to ask something else, please comment below!
For a little spooky ambience in the woods.

m67: (pic#15954446)

[personal profile] m67 2022-10-20 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
. . . When we’re all settled, with our guards down— we’re going to be charged for it.

Either that, or, [ she hesitates, ] war’s coming.
m67: (pic#15980865)

[personal profile] m67 2022-10-20 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Cool.

[ but it’s more word fodder to ease away the incoming sense or possibility of an awkward pause. she can’t stand those. but she’s okay enough to let the right words ruminate for this one. one more sip is earned. ]

We should have more candy like that.

[ god. it’s shut up so many losers. ]
chokuto: (pic#15621031)

[personal profile] chokuto 2022-10-20 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
The affection bowls him over in the tender aftermath of feeling, so that he's frozen to the gentle blotting at cheeks and the kiss laid on his forehead, too close to the way of his own mother's touch. He wants to twist away from it; his heart is in his throat, beating fast and hard as if expecting some violence to come alive in the shadow of the act. It doesn't. Only her words, melodious and hypnotic. Sasuke understands partial pieces of what is said. He can connect it to the life force that flows through all things — but he has never felt the river of his own emotion as anything but a heavy, burdensome weight upon his shoulders.

As time passes, so too do the effects of the drink. He shudders and gathers himself. His head aches, and his face is hot from the tears. He looks down at the ground between them, eyes sliding away with self-awareness.

"It's different for those who share my blood," he says, reluctant to explain. "That darkness is destructive. It doesn't pass. There is too much pain I've caused as a result of what I've experienced, and it can't be undone so easily." Sasuke lifts his gaze to the woman's again. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I don't even know who you are."
chokuto: (pic#15106066)

[personal profile] chokuto 2022-10-20 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
[In the moment Aspen looks away from Puck, he vanishes in a fit of laughter, and the forest becomes impossibly dark. Sasuke goes deep enough into the woods that the place begins to feel stranger and disorienting than before. He finds tents; rotting corpses of lost expeditions leftover around cold campfires. A wind blows, and he winces when a sharp leaf slices the skin of his cheek and leaves a bleeding trickle.

There is a sinister voice in the trees — the one materialized from Puck's storytelling, although Sasuke can't make out the words. Turning, he races back the way he came to find Aspen alone. The campfire continues to blaze, a blinding and solitary illumination in the dark.

Sasuke crosses the clearing and begins to kick dirt over the fire, putting it out, plunging them both into further blackness. He doesn't explain why, but he can feel it, the sense that something is wrong with the fire, that it plays tricks on their minds...

Once it's out, Puck reappears, giggling madly again. "I am a word that is hardly there. Remove my start, and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?"]


It's a riddle. Do you understand it?
chokuto: (pic#15106077)

[personal profile] chokuto 2022-10-20 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
Dhampir. [The way Sasuke says it obviously carries an accent even through the common Netherworld tongue, but it's smoother the second time, as if he's practicing it.] You said this was the cross between vampires and humans.

["Powerful, immortal beings cursed to drink blood." And also that he is a vampire hunter. There's a lot to puzzle on that, but he doesn't pry further, though a look considers how much of D shares those two traits. Is he immortal as well? Does he drink human blood?

Sasuke gets to his feet.]
I'm going to remain in the area and see what can be found. If the rider returns, I'll retaliate. I need to learn his attack patterns to understand how to catch him. [Is he just going to spend hours doing this... Maybe...] You don't need to stay. You helped enough.

[personal profile] m67 2022-10-20 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ . . . she really is like a cat. it’s cute? but asa keeps it to herself. it’s no compliment, clearly. what would cat people want to hear anyway?

she returns to her but and takes a sparing nibble. bit by bit. she’s not putting an entire spicy thing in her mouth. ]


I would’ve told you if you weren’t so fast . . . [ hrm. ] —Try eating smaller bites.
chokuto: (pic#15106059)

[personal profile] chokuto 2022-10-20 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
[He notices how Silco behaves with the civilians of Stygia, eyes tracking the man until he's joined by the body. It seems he wasn't remiss to hand off the questioning to Silco; while he could have come to the same results, his own personality is coarse and blunt by comparison, and he'd sooner prefer to learn the answers to his questions more indirectly.]

Yeah. In the Netherworld, the only way to make anything durable is by imbuing it with a soul. Soul-forging. Otherwise it'll disintegrate. I've seen it happen. [He'd found a few knives, but they hadn't lasted. Not long enough to serve any real use more than once or twice. Soul-forging is a topic he's had to dig up information on, because the people of Stygian seem so reluctant to approach it.] ... The souls of those like us, Restless. You were attacked by the Reaper when you first woke in this place. It wanted your soul.

[It's an incident Silco will likely remember, after he was ripped out of the Shroud.]

To obtain a soul, the person must be killed.
philandery: (pic#15159466)

[personal profile] philandery 2022-10-20 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ sylvain isn't bothered by that response—had been expecting it, in truth. felix is who he is, and that constant is a reassurance, especially with elysium involved. this too, makes him glad, that not everything has to change—that even with the world pulled from under their feet, felix still has whatever it is he needs to keep going. (this is the end, and yet he still propels himself forward however he can.)

sylvain has... well, he has a comfortably full stomach, a soft bed of grass, and all the time in the world (a few minutes left of this liquid-induced high) to figure it out. ]


Maybe.

[ it's not a bad idea to keep their skills honed, especially with reapers on the lose, and when most forms of work require a bit of elbow grease. ]

...Another time. Now's for enjoying the party. [ !!! ]
philandery: (pic#15159467)

[personal profile] philandery 2022-10-20 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ he barely manages to duck away from the sudden assault, the girl's nail cutting viciously just past the corner of the socket, gouging his temple deep enough that a fresh rivulet of blood seeps down his cheek.

all the thrashing about finally has him losing his balance, and he falls with a shout, dragging her down more due to circumstance than intent. and if they weren't tangled up enough before, the impact of the ground makes their garbled struggle worse. as they roll along the narrow path of the maze he tries to wedge a knee in between them and push her off with it.

and in the furious chaos, his shadow pipes up, a voice low and cool in the back of his mind: why are you trying so hard not to hurt her?

he ignores it, though he isn't sure how much longer he has the luxury to. ]
chokuto: (pic#15621029)

[personal profile] chokuto 2022-10-20 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
If your first assumption is that I haven't thought about where I'm going, then you're only demonstrating your own ignorance. I'm going to her clinic.

[It's a sharp reprisal, although Sasuke has allowed himself to come to the full stop, turning fully, cloak billowing around his feet. The fabric is several inches too long for the slight height of Sakura's body; it drags irritatingly along the ground, getting in his way. He wants to take it off, but the extra layers are protective against the reminder that he is in his extremely female ex-teammate's body and he'd Rather Not.

'Doctor Haruno'...]


Try to remember. [Sorry, Jonas, your sexy Dracula crush is not in here.] Who did you see?
spaceassassin: (wait for the punchline)

[personal profile] spaceassassin 2022-10-20 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ she had him at speed. ]

how much of a boost
your legs can keep up with that?
spaceassassin: (i wanted that hippo plush hmph)

[personal profile] spaceassassin 2022-10-20 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
look
i’m not saying i don’t wanna help anyone
i’m saying this thing sounds fishy
before running off i’d like to know it isn’t a waste of time or worse


[ a mindgame. a trap. who knows what or who they can trust here. ]
chokuto: (pic#15106059)

[personal profile] chokuto 2022-10-20 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
You're being childish. If you won't take into account other opinions, then you shouldn't have posted this here.

You don't even know who I am.


[HOW CAN YOU KNOW MY INNUMBERABLE SINS]
Edited 2022-10-20 02:34 (UTC)
janescayre: (093)

The Festival --> Maze, 1000 days later, as promised, with the last dying gasps of my will power

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-20 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
[Fukawa's largely avoided the festival fare. No thanks to the festering throngs of music goers, pass on the jam-packed parade. Just a bite at the feast, once she was convinced something was edible (only the cake, shockingly), and now she's on her way out. This was too many people in too long of a day, and now she needs a book. Silence. Solitude.

But on her way out, she nearly gets knocked over by a whisky-soaked partygoer. That's what she gets for trying to duck and weave her way out of the drunkest section at the party.]


W-w-watch it! Cretin! [Have a little hiss and a scurry to the side, a lens-glinted glare. Then muttering as she starts off again, quite low. perhaps she doesn't think anyone can hear?] Stupid n-neanderthals...might as well open up the m-monkey cage at the zoo...
terraria: art source: remnim@Twitter (● dejected.)

[personal profile] terraria 2022-10-20 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
( aspen tsks his tongue and immediately gets to his feet. )

So you are playing a game.

( he means to simply go towards where sasuke left, but the surge of fire makes him freeze. he's absolutely frozen in abject terror, unable to move, his throat clenched almost entirely shut. it's only when sasuke puts it out that he's able to break from his horror, letting out a choked noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob.

he hears puck before he sees him, and aspen whirls on him like he's about to lash out violently. only remembering he's not alone here stops him, and he simmers back down, staring at his feet. )


A word... hardly there...

( he shakes his head at first, thinking, speaking aloud between his brainstorming. )

Remove the start and I'm an herbal flair...

Herbal flair. Thyme? Rosemary? Cinnamon... basil... parsley...

( ...! )

Parsley? Sparsely! It's sparsely!

( as if on perfect cue, the lantern drops - aspen lunges forward to catch it, holding it close to his chest with a relieved, if shuddery, sigh. )
windsongs: (014 - Copy)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-20 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ Up until now, she's really only thought about it as her Voice, just a different application of it. But considering what she is, what she's also capable of doing, it feels strange thinking of it as anything other than magical. The small blonde shrugs her shoulders a bit, the smile she wears lackluster at best. Practiced, polite and detached. ]

I'm able to pass certain emotions to other people using my Voice. It works better when sung--cause trust me, if I could find some other way to use it that's just as effective, I would be doing that. ...I know how unsettling someone walking through a scene like this while singing must be.

[ That's part of why he stopped her, isn't it? ]
windsongs: (39)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-20 03:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ asdfasd!!

Hibiki flusters as he plops the bit of cloth on her head. She takes it with a huff, unfolding it silently (hey actually this fabric is nice, why is he using this as a handkerchief) before slowly putting it to her temple. She winces at the sudden touch before settling into a faint glower. Not at him, just. Honestly, she doesn't even know. She's frustrated about a lot right now. ]


Yeah, right after. Someone named Assana, another member of the Hierarchy. [ She pauses, a grim thought coming to mind. ]

I don't remember seeing her, I hope she's all right...
damnpire: (pic#12094807)

[personal profile] damnpire 2022-10-20 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
[HELP. Aspen is so funny. DON’T JUST THINK D IS A RUTHLESS MURDERER. “Isn’t he…”]

Did the Reapers attack you?
windsongs: (70)

[personal profile] windsongs 2022-10-20 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ Hey Keith want to get yeeted by an air current? ]

not 100% all the time
but I'd say 90-95
haven't had the chance to push too hard though

why
heroproceeding: (Alone and I'm in between)

[personal profile] heroproceeding 2022-10-20 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
fishy? maybe. but if it's not and we wait too long it's too late to help in the first place.

but hey no one's forcing you man. but as for me i'm gonna go check it out. i'll keep you posted!


[ As in he may or may not have already been on his way. THIS IS A GREAT IDEA. ]
terraria: art source: remnim@Twitter (● adept.)

[personal profile] terraria 2022-10-20 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
( last time on nightfell tv: "don't kill random people :c" "... ok. i wasn't going to anyway" "ok /cuddles" )

Mm... ( he sounds displeased with the question. ) They had me in chains. Is that an attack?
janescayre: (125)

iic, just kill her so i can be free

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-20 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
[Here's the sad thing about her specific brand of DID: her psychotic alter acts less a defensive measure her brain invented to protect her, and more like a curse from a jilted evil fairy, bestowed at her birth.

Hence why Fukawa, noted indoor-girl, who was specifically avoiding the jock-centric brou-ha-ha of the maze, suddenly awakens in the corn field at the stroke of midnight. Out of breath, scissors notched over her fingers, no one in sight to save her. She had spun several times on the spot and wheezed like an abandoned Pomeranian before finally stuffing the scissors away (at least they weren't covered in blood?) and picking a direction. She had also jumped a few times, hoping for a sneak peek at the layout. No dice. The corn is so tall and she is so short, and the whole thing goes on forever.

It's late. So, maybe everybody else went to go home? Maybe nobody would be doing that whole predator and prey thing anymore. And maybe no one would come looking for revenge for whatever crimes Syo was out committing. Maybe. Possibly.

Was that the sound of footsteps?]


H-hello?

[Not footsteps, footsprints. SPRINTING. SOMEONE'S COMING?!

A man rounds the corner, too fast to make out the face. Fukawa screams.

And hurls herself right into the corn. Being very small and thin she is absorbed at once.

Can't catch what you can't reach, right? Right?!]
janescayre: (135)

[personal profile] janescayre 2022-10-20 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
M-my what? [It's all too much indeed. Fukawa's defense deflates as several matters become clear at once.

They are sharing thoughts. Two ways. She's hearing things this girl thinks. And in turn, this girl is receiving her private, innermost musings? The last vestiges of sanctuary Fukawa had left, penetrated? Besieged? Exposed? Oh god, her secret fantasies about Byakuya-sama!! (here take this) Her vilest thoughts, Genocider Syo!

Except...]


Ours? [She repeats. Not as meekly, but nothing close to bold either. Fukawa's panic quiets at once. Her eyes dart between the other girls'.

It's insane, but the truth is sitting plain between both of their ears. This third voice, this "Yoru" character. That's what she means, right? It hadn't sounded like a shadow.]


...Y-you're like me, right? There's two of you. [Holy shit. Guess there is a first time for everything. The likelihood of meeting someone else with DID had slid next to zero back home, but perhaps here the odds had shifted. Fukawa hunches into the table and leans a little closer, speaking secretively now.] Except — h-how is she talking to you? Inside your head? Mine is always, um.

[Her mouth twists.]

Sleeping, I guess.
zauneyete: (Dramatic Entrance)

[personal profile] zauneyete 2022-10-20 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
[ Silco's eyebrow lifted, when she talked about heroic ideas, and he crossed his arms across his chest. Did she really think he was looking for heroics? Him? It was almost funny -- and Silco actually would have laughed at her, if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd Very nearly died. ]

If you're worried I'll start calling you a hero, you need not worry. The slicing and dicing part was what I was interested in.

[ He waved a hand, before his eyes moved the direction that the horseman had gone -- but only with a cursory glance at her, to the show of her weapons collection. Impressive, no guns, but then again -- that might have hit a touch too close to home for Silco -- and he wondered what the purpose of the thing was. He couldn't fight it, certainly. There was no way he could have, but that didn't mean that he wasn't without his own tools.

And while he didn't care about the people here, he did care about his own skin, and that was enough to make him curious about where it had gone. More importantly: where it had come from.
]

Were you as...mindless as he seemed to be? [ There was no speech from that thing. Interesting. ] Or as lacking in speech?
zauneyete: (Disdain)

[personal profile] zauneyete 2022-10-20 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
It certainly seems like it, doesn't it? Wasn't there something about...

[ His hand waved, then. As if he was trying to come up with the words, before the airquotes came out, one hand made the motion -- the other still too busy with the cigar to join in. ]

"Moving on"? I think I remember hearing something about it.

I will admit, I never offered much time for Theology. Too busy with... a multitude of other, much more important pieces of business.

[ You know. Erecting a drug empire to intimidate the people above you into giving your city freedom while subsequently poisoning it. ]