miphis-the-writer

[miphis-the-writer]

Miphis nodded in response to Sky's comments on closed off people. "I'm glad you feel that way, I'm sure many of the patrons you've served tonight would disagree." Miphis waves her hand not wanting to linger on her social commentary.

The Tiefling chuckles as Sky mentions her use of the blade. "Well, just because I write about others for a living doesn't mean I'm the best at reading them." Her eyes widen a little bit at the mention of the katana. "Oh yes I know the blade! Or at least I've read stories where such a blade is mentioned."

She closes her book for a moment giving Sky her full attention. "I must say that I wish we had met under different circumstances. I would have loved to see a blade like that in person." She takes another sip of wine, finishing the glass. "Your mentor seems like a very kind person. Do you still keep in touch with him since you've started your journey? I bet he would be proud of your progress."

Miphis places a hand over her chest and closes her eyes in reflection. "I know personally that I'm honored to have been served by such a well traveled monk."

Miphis let out a snort at Sky's defense of the dragon comment. "Well, I just had to make sure, you never know when you might run into some sort of exceptional hero type." She returns the shrug.

"You yearn to travel, then? That's a noble goal. I find the most interesting people are those who have many diverse experiences under their belt." She chuckles, "Even if they haven't slain any dragons."

Miphis drops the quill for a moment in order to sip her wine, her eyes briefly scanning the other patrons for a moment. "Your mentor! Tell me more about them. What exactly did they teach you?"

Miphis picks up her quill again. Making a mental note to circle back to these 'prices' that Sky mentioned.

"Did they teach you how to fight? I bet you're the type to use a bow and arrow. Fitting for one who doesn't like the violence of it all."

[miphis-the-writer]

Ferenir left Miphis with something to think about as she made her way to the bar at the other end of the party. He mentioned Dragonborns, but is that what he is?

She stuck somewhat close to the blacksmith. His larger frame made it easy to do so, and before long they found themselves at the bar. No seating was available, only enough room to stand as two bartenders awaited their orders.

Miphis crossed her arms over the bar in an attempt to get the bartenders attention. "Whiskey, neat. And whatever my friend here would like."

She turns her attention back to Ferenir. "So are you a Dragonborn then? I see the scales, but I always thought Dragonborn had much more draconic features."

Miphis sets her book down on the counter and flips to a new page as her drink arrives.

An Invitation

You've been invited to attend a regal gathering. Champagne glasses, hors d'œuvres, and raucous laughter decorate the main party floor. Off to the side, sitting in a chair, is a tiefling girl dressed in yellow and holding a book in her right hand. She laughs politely as the individual she was speaking to wraps up their conversation with a playful joke.

Her book opens, and she writes a few notes before closing the pages again, scanning the room, her eyes meet another individual. She smiles.

What would you like to do?

[miphis-the-writer]

Miphis let out a snort at Sky's defense of the dragon comment. "Well, I just had to make sure, you never know when you might run into some sort of exceptional hero type." She returns the shrug.

"You yearn to travel, then? That's a noble goal. I find the most interesting people are those who have many diverse experiences under their belt." She chuckles, "Even if they haven't slain any dragons."

Miphis drops the quill for a moment in order to sip her wine, her eyes briefly scanning the other patrons for a moment. "Your mentor! Tell me more about them. What exactly did they teach you?"

Miphis picks up her quill again. Making a mental note to circle back to these 'prices' that Sky mentioned.

"Did they teach you how to fight? I bet you're the type to use a bow and arrow. Fitting for one who doesn't like the violence of it all."

"Sky... What a beautiful name." Miphis mused as her quill moved across the pages. Her hand moved diligently, quickly filling out the page as Sky spoke. Miphis's eyes, bright and piercing, would move back and forth, switching between staring deeply into Sky and the pages. Much like an artist capturing their subject, but there was no imagery, just words being scratched into the pages.

"A mercenary!" She puts her quill down for a moment and rests her hands on her knees, leaning forward slightly. "I would have never guessed!" Despite Sky downplaying her work, Miphis is clearly very excited.

"What exactly brought you to that line of work? From what I understand, it's a very taxing role to play." Miphis leans in closer and whispers. "Have you slain any dragons before?"

[miphis-the-writer]

The sound of the quill striking paper was evident, Miphis's hand gliding across the page with the ease of someone who has written plenty before. "Interesting. I suppose that explains a lot of your disdain for the other patrons."

Miphis's eyes narrow, taking note of Absolem's smirk. What an interesting character.

"You certainly know how to play the game, don't you?" Miphis returns the smirk, a little less sharp this time. "You act as if you don't belong in any economic hierarchy. Truly a free individual. Or as much as I can tell."

Miphis writes down the last few notes before dropping the quill and resting it in the spine of the pages. "I'm happy you've found such success in your life. I have to agree. A tale worth noting." She smiles.

"Are you looking to find some customers tonight? Someone to fall for your honeyed words?"

Miphis watched with amusement as Absolem made his case. Seeing things through his eyes as he points out the other interesting characters hiding just beyond the veil of pompous bores.

"Yes, you have a good point. The ones who wish to share their stories typically have nothing much to share." Her eyes squint and she looks down to Absolem.

"But what about you, my theatrical little friend? Your dress and mannerisms are on par with most of the others here, and yet you speak of the other patrons as though they are of another class. Illk is the word you used?" Miphis opens up her book again and rests it on her leg. Her fist, curled around her quill, taps against her chin as she looks Absolem over. Her eyes were trying to pierce the soul of his character.

"What's your story, Absolem?"

[miphis-the-writer]

Send “What Are You Writing?” To Find My Muse Scribbling Something On A Notebook

Send “Oh, It’s Nothing” For My Muse To Find You’re Scribbling Something On Their Notebook

[miphis-the-writer]

//Forever honored you enjoyed my silly little starter enough to create art about it ;-;

The Invitation

@miphis-the-writer / @steel-and-fire

@the-storm-chaser / @capes-compendium

[miphis-the-writer]

Miphis watched with amusement as Absolem made his case. Seeing things through his eyes as he points out the other interesting characters hiding just beyond the veil of pompous bores.

"Yes, you have a good point. The ones who wish to share their stories typically have nothing much to share." Her eyes squint and she looks down to Absolem.

"But what about you, my theatrical little friend? Your dress and mannerisms are on par with most of the others here, and yet you speak of the other patrons as though they are of another class. Illk is the word you used?" Miphis opens up her book again and rests it on her leg. Her fist, curled around her quill, taps against her chin as she looks Absolem over. Her eyes were trying to pierce the soul of his character.

"What's your story, Absolem?"

"T'is a pleasure indeed!" Miphis says back with excitement. Attempting to match the nearly theatrical energy from Absolem. When Absolem mentions that he himself is a merchant, a grin begins to form from Miphis. "So what you're telling me is that you're the individual with the 'excitement' for sale?" She chuckles.

With the tray being lowered, Miphis reaches up to grab another glass. "The question is forgiven," Miphis says before taking a sip. "I am a guest of sorts. I was invited here to recount the tales of the parties' patrons."

There's a sigh that escapes her lips as she sets her glass down and flips through the various pages in her book so far. "Gods, I have barely anything to work with, though." In a much quieter tone, she continues. "The people here are sooooooo boring. I like to think I'm a talented writer, but I have nothing to start with."

[miphis-the-writer]

"Sky... What a beautiful name." Miphis mused as her quill moved across the pages. Her hand moved diligently, quickly filling out the page as Sky spoke. Miphis's eyes, bright and piercing, would move back and forth, switching between staring deeply into Sky and the pages. Much like an artist capturing their subject, but there was no imagery, just words being scratched into the pages.

"A mercenary!" She puts her quill down for a moment and rests her hands on her knees, leaning forward slightly. "I would have never guessed!" Despite Sky downplaying her work, Miphis is clearly very excited.

"What exactly brought you to that line of work? From what I understand, it's a very taxing role to play." Miphis leans in closer and whispers. "Have you slain any dragons before?"

The Tiefling's eyebrow raises as she watches the subject of her attention decide whether she is worth talking to. She has another sip of wine, listening intently to the bits of information, attempting to decipher as much as possible about this individual purely through her apprehension and reading between the lines.

"Mmm, yes, it's your duty to speak with me." She says in a playful manner. "I promise not to take too much of your time."

Miphis gestures to the chair across from her small table. "Please take a seat, cariño." The tiefling opens up her book again and jots down a few notes. Bright yellow eyes flutter between each word, quickly scanning across the page. Her eyes soon looked up to meet the individual. "...You mentioned this isn't your usual scene, what do you normally do for a living, miss-"

...I don't even know her name...

The tiefling quickly sets down her book and quill and reaches a hand across the table in greeting. "So sorry, I clearly did this out of order. My name is Miphis."

[miphis-the-writer]

Miphis smiled brightly, hearing that her wish would be granted. "Quite the gentleman you are! I see why your friend brought you along." The tiefling gathers her belongings, taking care not to leave her book and quill behind. As she does so, she listens along to Ferenir speaking about her role here and lets out a chuckle.

"Yes, well, my job is as interesting as I make it. Perhaps if the patrons bore me enough, I'll write some nasty rumors about them." She laughs again. "I joke, of course."

There's an uncertainty in her voice, as if she's actually considering the proposition.

She looks up to the draconic smith, taking in all of the intricacies of his features for the first time. "With someone as burly as you, you might scare a good number of patrons. Actually, that could be quite fun." Miphis looks up to Ferenir with a quirky grin.

Taking note of Ferenir's hesitation, she looks over to try to see what he spotted. "See someone you recognized?"

An Invitation

You've been invited to attend a regal gathering. Champagne glasses, hors d'œuvres, and raucous laughter decorate the main party floor. Off to the side, sitting in a chair, is a tiefling girl dressed in yellow and holding a book in her right hand. She laughs politely as the individual she was speaking to wraps up their conversation with a playful joke.

Her book opens, and she writes a few notes before closing the pages again, scanning the room, her eyes meet another individual. She smiles.

What would you like to do?

[miphis-the-writer]

"T'is a pleasure indeed!" Miphis says back with excitement. Attempting to match the nearly theatrical energy from Absolem. When Absolem mentions that he himself is a merchant, a grin begins to form from Miphis. "So what you're telling me is that you're the individual with the 'excitement' for sale?" She chuckles.

With the tray being lowered, Miphis reaches up to grab another glass. "The question is forgiven," Miphis says before taking a sip. "I am a guest of sorts. I was invited here to recount the tales of the parties' patrons."

There's a sigh that escapes her lips as she sets her glass down and flips through the various pages in her book so far. "Gods, I have barely anything to work with, though." In a much quieter tone, she continues. "The people here are sooooooo boring. I like to think I'm a talented writer, but I have nothing to start with."

The Tiefling, for the first time all night, looked down to meet the eyes of the pompous fellow. Her eyes light up as she closes her book to fully focus on the conversation. "You could say it's a little bit of both."

Bright yellow eyes flutter as a revelation strikes her, partly due to the inquiries of the gnomish gentleman. "Well, it's certainly not their secrets they're sharing with me. I thought people so high up the food chain would have more interesting stories to share."

A deep sigh escapes past the woman's lips before she recomposes herself.

You're sharing too much!

The Tiefling reaches a hand down in greeting to the gnomish fellow. "Miphis. To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"

[miphis-the-writer]

The Tiefling's eyebrow raises as she watches the subject of her attention decide whether she is worth talking to. She has another sip of wine, listening intently to the bits of information, attempting to decipher as much as possible about this individual purely through her apprehension and reading between the lines.

"Mmm, yes, it's your duty to speak with me." She says in a playful manner. "I promise not to take too much of your time."

Miphis gestures to the chair across from her small table. "Please take a seat, cariño." The tiefling opens up her book again and jots down a few notes. Bright yellow eyes flutter between each word, quickly scanning across the page. Her eyes soon looked up to meet the individual. "...You mentioned this isn't your usual scene, what do you normally do for a living, miss-"

...I don't even know her name...

The tiefling quickly sets down her book and quill and reaches a hand across the table in greeting. "So sorry, I clearly did this out of order. My name is Miphis."

"Don't mind if I do."

The tieflings fingers curl around the champagne flute, delicately lifting it up, bringing it to her lips. "Say, you don't seem like the usual wait-staff for these events." Yellow eyes look up at the waitress, attempting to get a read on the individual.

"For one, you actually stopped to entertain my silly comment. I appreciate all the drinks, by the way." There's a playful chuckle from the tiefling as she takes another sip.

This one could be interesting

"You know, I've been listening to too many stories from people with too much money, and I could use a break. You seem like you have a story or two. Would you mind entertaining me for a bit?"

[miphis-the-writer]

The Tiefling, for the first time all night, looked down to meet the eyes of the pompous fellow. Her eyes light up as she closes her book to fully focus on the conversation. "You could say it's a little bit of both."

Bright yellow eyes flutter as a revelation strikes her, partly due to the inquiries of the gnomish gentleman. "Well, it's certainly not their secrets they're sharing with me. I thought people so high up the food chain would have more interesting stories to share."

A deep sigh escapes past the woman's lips before she recomposes herself.

You're sharing too much!

The Tiefling reaches a hand down in greeting to the gnomish fellow. "Miphis. To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"

An Invitation

You've been invited to attend a regal gathering. Champagne glasses, hors d'œuvres, and raucous laughter decorate the main party floor. Off to the side, sitting in a chair, is a tiefling girl dressed in yellow and holding a book in her right hand. She laughs politely as the individual she was speaking to wraps up their conversation with a playful joke.

Her book opens, and she writes a few notes before closing the pages again, scanning the room, her eyes meet another individual. She smiles.

What would you like to do?

[miphis-the-writer]

"Don't mind if I do."

The tieflings fingers curl around the champagne flute, delicately lifting it up, bringing it to her lips. "Say, you don't seem like the usual wait-staff for these events." Yellow eyes look up at the waitress, attempting to get a read on the individual.

"For one, you actually stopped to entertain my silly comment. I appreciate all the drinks, by the way." There's a playful chuckle from the tiefling as she takes another sip.

This one could be interesting

"You know, I've been listening to too many stories from people with too much money, and I could use a break. You seem like you have a story or two. Would you mind entertaining me for a bit?"

The woman hadn't anticipated being recognised being one of a number of staff hired for the occasion. Was it that obvious she wasn't used to the role, or had the patron just had too much?'

'Well it is part of the job, why wouldn't I, Miss?' The woman kept straight with the tray as she lowered it to the tiefling, something she had been briefed on before the evening's festivities began.

'Another?'

@miphis-the-writer

[miphis-the-writer]

Vignette

The shadows that licked at the edge of Miphis's sight made the cavern seem nearly alive. Pathways explored just the other day are now blocked off and covered in rubble.

The tunnels seem to spread from outside the city walls and into the center. Cornelius managed to find a secret pathway that led deeper. Chambers filled with terrible experiments of flesh and stitched-together body parts.

"Oh gods. Is this what has happened to all those missing people?"

[miphis-the-writer]

[Text] Wait, who is this? Is this not Cornelius? Sorry, I'm still figuring this thing out. Did the picture work this time?

There's a blurry picture of... someone's face. Splotches of gray and yellow... Maybe a horn?

It's clear whoever sent this does not know how to use a phone.

@miphis-the-writer

Huh... must be a wrong number... by someone with zero selfie experience.

[Text] Sorry, I think you have the wrong number!

[miphis-the-writer]

The way Ferenir’s hand engulfed Miphis’s own was almost comical, and there’s much that can be gleaned from just a handshake. For instance, the Tiefling’s hand was incredibly soft all around, except for the side of her index finger that had a rough callus that formed from excessive writing. Her hand was also surprisingly warm, perhaps because of the fiend blood. 

“Please, just Miphis is plenty. I’ve already had too many men try to win me over with excessive titles, and I miss the sound of just my own name.”

A grin couldn’t help but form from the blacksmith’s compliment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ferenir. I think your friend's plan is working cause I am thoroughly impressed. You look like you could fight off everyone in this room if you had to.” 

Now that she’s had a few moments to speak, it’s clear by her accent that Miphis is not from these lands

Miphis chuckles and recomposes herself on her chair, briefly looking around at the other guests in the room before answering Ferenir’s question. “Mmm, yes, it’s certainly not the looks. I am a writer by trade, and I was hired by our lovely host to record some of the wonderful stories our guests have to share. I was hoping to find an interesting muse to focus on for tonight, but I’m getting rather tired of all these silver spoon stories.” There’s a clear tinge of frustration in her voice as she picks up her book and flips through some of the pages. 

“At this point, I need a drink.” Miphis hops up from her seat, her head barely coming up to Ferenir’s chest at standing height. “Now I know you’re not my bodyguard, but would you care to join me?”

An Invitation

You've been invited to attend a regal gathering. Champagne glasses, hors d'œuvres, and raucous laughter decorate the main party floor. Off to the side, sitting in a chair, is a tiefling girl dressed in yellow and holding a book in her right hand. She laughs politely as the individual she was speaking to wraps up their conversation with a playful joke.

Her book opens, and she writes a few notes before closing the pages again, scanning the room, her eyes meet another individual. She smiles.

What would you like to do?

[miphis-the-writer]

Send “💖” and my muse will admit something they find cute about yours.