darkflamegods

[darkflamegods]

DD nods at the thought of melting the cheese like that. "How odd that the cafeteria does that. Nearly like a dream come true for you, I suppose. No need to deal with supply issues. And... what are french fries?"

A woman with ram horns and a face hidden under peculiar, familiar, shadow and a mask rises from behind the counter. She tilts her head and puts a gloved hand on said counter. They speak in Mike's voice, "Hello? Is this where Mother directed me?"

-@darkflamegods, The Devout

"Oh, are you Dust's kid? You have kind of similar vibes about you."

Mike gestures to the Devout from the counter.

"Come on in, I'll make you a burger."

[darkflamegods]

The Devout seems slightly stunned by that. "... Well, at least it isn't killing as many people any more."

They seem to listen to the sound of the grilling foodstuff. "Speaking of, Mother said something about you helping in that. How do you... keep souls in stock?"

A woman with ram horns and a face hidden under peculiar, familiar, shadow and a mask rises from behind the counter. She tilts her head and puts a gloved hand on said counter. They speak in Mike's voice, "Hello? Is this where Mother directed me?"

-@darkflamegods, The Devout

"Oh, are you Dust's kid? You have kind of similar vibes about you."

Mike gestures to the Devout from the counter.

"Come on in, I'll make you a burger."

[darkflamegods]

"Oh, it's been too long since I've had grilled vegetables, so if you wouldn't mind too much. And, I suppose I could be said to be something of the sort. Though I've yet to meet a god I equal." The Devout watches as the burgers sizzle, looking at them with... hopefully hunger in whatever serves as her eyes.

"I'm... not sure where to start on what my 'deal' is. I suppose I could be called a priestess? To my Mother, who fed me its blood. And what exactly do you mean by... 'triangle thing'?"

A woman with ram horns and a face hidden under peculiar, familiar, shadow and a mask rises from behind the counter. She tilts her head and puts a gloved hand on said counter. They speak in Mike's voice, "Hello? Is this where Mother directed me?"

-@darkflamegods, The Devout

"Oh, are you Dust's kid? You have kind of similar vibes about you."

Mike gestures to the Devout from the counter.

"Come on in, I'll make you a burger."

[darkflamegods]

DD takes a seat and... watches? him pull the stuff out. "The terms are much like steaks, yes? I wouldn't mind it on the rarer side, I'm far too familiar with dry meats."

The noise of the grill turning on makes them slightly curious, since she's not familiar with basically any of that, and the Devout tilts its head while looking down at the flat top.

A woman with ram horns and a face hidden under peculiar, familiar, shadow and a mask rises from behind the counter. She tilts her head and puts a gloved hand on said counter. They speak in Mike's voice, "Hello? Is this where Mother directed me?"

-@darkflamegods, The Devout

"Oh, are you Dust's kid? You have kind of similar vibes about you."

Mike gestures to the Devout from the counter.

"Come on in, I'll make you a burger."

[darkflamegods]

"Yes, it is my mother. And I would much appreciate that. Halji's been telling me how much I should try one." It is... slightly confused by the invitation in. Isn't that the kitchen area? It's been a while since the Devout's felt a modern kitchen, but it definitely seems like one.

A woman with ram horns and a face hidden under peculiar, familiar, shadow and a mask rises from behind the counter. She tilts her head and puts a gloved hand on said counter. They speak in Mike's voice, "Hello? Is this where Mother directed me?"

-@darkflamegods, The Devout

"Oh, are you Dust's kid? You have kind of similar vibes about you."

Mike gestures to the Devout from the counter.

"Come on in, I'll make you a burger."

[darkflamegods]

The angry, or perhaps anguished, mask whispers in the ear of the weeping mask. The joyous mask is still circling Swampwood.

They ask what Swampwood saught with them, and they ask if the iron does not burn.

Swampwood is wandering through OSHA when she comes across the muse. What the muse sees before them is a strange contradiction. Swampwood is clearly fae and makes no effort to hide the fact, but they wear a choker spiked with iron and clothes more befitting of a modern human.

"Hi! I'm Swampwood, what's your name?"

The introduction gives no time for the muse to make the first move and is distinctly lacking in name-stealing tricks.

@swampwood-briarthorn

The three faces of rumors watch Swampwood, the joyous mask circling around and looking above her head at something else. The weeping face grabs hold of her hand in their two small ones, studying it. Only the angry, or perhaps fearful or disgusted, mask keeps distant, as they respond.

They say that their name is Marril, and they ask which story is hers.

The name feels empty.

[darkflamegods]

The weeping mask pulls back, before the joyous mask could collide with them.

They agree, and they say that wanderers and exiles have always been found in the flow. They ask which spark it was, that broke the lamp's hook.

The anguished, or perhaps angry, mask pulls on a loose cloth coming off of the weeping, before getting smacked away.

Swampwood is wandering through OSHA when she comes across the muse. What the muse sees before them is a strange contradiction. Swampwood is clearly fae and makes no effort to hide the fact, but they wear a choker spiked with iron and clothes more befitting of a modern human.

"Hi! I'm Swampwood, what's your name?"

The introduction gives no time for the muse to make the first move and is distinctly lacking in name-stealing tricks.

@swampwood-briarthorn

The three faces of rumors watch Swampwood, the joyous mask circling around and looking above her head at something else. The weeping face grabs hold of her hand in their two small ones, studying it. Only the angry, or perhaps fearful or disgusted, mask keeps distant, as they respond.

They say that their name is Marril, and they ask which story is hers.

The name feels empty.

[darkflamegods]

Swampwood is wandering through OSHA when she comes across the muse. What the muse sees before them is a strange contradiction. Swampwood is clearly fae and makes no effort to hide the fact, but they wear a choker spiked with iron and clothes more befitting of a modern human.

"Hi! I'm Swampwood, what's your name?"

The introduction gives no time for the muse to make the first move and is distinctly lacking in name-stealing tricks.

@swampwood-briarthorn

The three faces of rumors watch Swampwood, the joyous mask circling around and looking above her head at something else. The weeping face grabs hold of her hand in their two small ones, studying it. Only the angry, or perhaps fearful or disgusted, mask keeps distant, as they respond.

They say that their name is Marril, and they ask which story is hers.

The name feels empty.

[darkflamegods]

The Masked cracks its neck after waiting a moment to see if she'd pop out of the wreckage, noticing groucho glasses jackie as it does so. It's briefly stunned by this, before just rolling with it, "Yesss, quite. Didn't even asssk my name before putting on thisss sshow. Verry rude to treat a guessst like that."

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

"No I don't thiink I'll make ussse of it. I've never dropped an anvil before. Maybe if you had one foor pianosss." The Masked sets the pen down, and dissipates. I think that was an illusion. A few steps away, it's now standing next to a rope, and plucks it to split. And a piano falls onto Jackie.

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

"I sssee. You have a notebook I could borrow?" Its nonchalance feels like it's trying to distract her from something but it hasn't done anything yet. Barely even moved.

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

"Harlequinsss don't ssspeak? I thought that wasss mimesss." It... sounds actually slightly distraught at that revelation. But why is this what it focuses on?

Also its mask shifts, kinda looks like moving sand, as it moves away from the clown nose.

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

"I've no reassson to." Its voice changes again, sounding like feral Jackie. But something about it sounds... hollow. "In fact, you already know far too much. So, harlequin, you tell me, what makes you think you can escape me?"

It stretches, and in a flash, its legs have lengthened into a long snake tail, and it is leaning on her table.

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

Tywyll seems... confused. Enough to actually say words again. "But... aim. Shade. Ond... eat soul."

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

Tywyll crosses its arms and raps its fingers, just above the elbow, thinking. A few moments later it shrugs. Unsure about definition.

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

It looks mildly bewildered, before speaking again. It sounds ravenous, "I ssssupposse, if we're dropping pretenssessss."

It leaps, shifting slightly in the motion; its head grows a cobra's hood, its face slightly alters. Its clothes seem to catch flame, as they turn into a cape and worn leather armor.

Its metallic claws slice cleanly into her shoulders, as it roughly pins her arms to her sides. It opens its mouth and sinks its venom coated fangs into the side of her face. Before quickly taking them out and tossing her back. "Ngah! You tasste awful! Barely any trassse of life in you!"

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.

[darkflamegods]

It snaps out of its staring by their talking, and responds with a simple push of thoughts of food, and life, and souls.

There have been a number of strange doors, connecting the timelines recently.

It would seem this trend is yet to cease, as a new one has formed. It is a heavy wooden door, with iron reinforcing it against being beaten off the hinges. There is a small barred window in the middle, revealing nothing but pitch darkness.

Somebody found this door before the crowds, and left thick claw marks buried into the wall surrounding the door. It also seems to have left a message in braille in the wood of the door, reading "HATE. FALSE SHADES. NOT MY FACE." How strange.