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#||rp: your dazzling hue||
mayxthexforce · 8 months
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Your Dazzling Hue || Sev'rance & Thrawn
Starter for @thrawnur
The sound of smooth jizz flowing through appeared to mix well with the various tones of conversations transpiring in the large room. The atmosphere was perfectly lively for a celebration, as the Emperor —even if he currently stood out for his absence— and all officers and influential families involved, were celebrating the great expansion of the Empire's territories. It was one of the few instances in which Sev'rance had a chance to really relax– that is, if conversing with a load of people about business and political endeavors while having to keep things on a FRIENDLY basis could be deemed as relaxing.
For someone who took great pride in the vast ability of her own memory, Sev'rance almost lost mental count of the various department heads, senators, Moff, and officers of varying ranks she engaged with as far as the current stance on success they were on, and offered her own insight into how they could improve things in their respective systems and outposts. When Sev'rance spoke, people listened. Intently. They always did. And that was because she forced herself to become well-read in the different events taking place around the galaxy, as well as know how to keep the attention of an audience. Several different audiences, in this case, as there was a huge difference between small talk with a lower ranking officer, small talk with a senator and/or their spouse, and small talk with a Moff. Her expression through each conversation she engaged in was one of serious relaxation or collected amusement, depending on what each individual situation called for.
She carefully calculated when and under what circumstances to allow her lips to curve almost imperceptibly upwards into a pleased smile, a quite sporadic, blink-and-you-miss-it gesture that had people engaged in conversation with her because of the aura of mysterious sophistication she made a point to surround herself in. Many people had heard the stories of ruthlessness that had her as the protagonist. But in person, she gave away nothing. Some might have even pondered if they remembered wrong, if the ruthless former Supreme Commander of the Confederacy was a different Chiss. They never asked, not wanting to be the ones to make it obvious they couldn't tell Chiss apart. But Sev'rance could see the conflict in their eyes.
It amused her, greatly.
Until somebody else seized her attention. As it seemed she wasn't the only one keeping people on their toes. Across the dance floor she spotted a man in a white uniform– but it wasn't the uniform that intrigued her, it was the one wearing it. Blue skin, dark hair, red eyes– another Chiss.
Even if aware that she might be biased due to the fact this was the first time she had seen another Chiss in... far too long, Sev'rance had to admit it was rather impressive to watch him navigate the crowd in a way that was so much like hers yet different enough to keep her entertained. They moved in opposite directions: counterclockwise VS clockwise. He was easy to spot despite the visual obstacle that the people dancing posed. The contrast of his white uniform against blue skin made him stand out in a similar way to how the contrast of her own dark red dress against her own blue skin most likely did for her.
Yet, and even as she continued to be pulled into different conversations, she made sure to keep an eye on him.
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lythelle-bennington · 1 month
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The Basics ––– –
Name: Lythelle Bennington
Alias: None
Age: 45
Birthday: October 1st
Race: Kul Tiran
Gender: Female
Marital Status: Single
Physical Appearance ––– –
Hair: Black
Eyes: Jeweled Ivy
Height: 5′7"
Build: Slim
Distinguishing Marks: Her eyes, an enchanting shade of ivy, held depths as mysterious as the Drustvar pines.They seemed to shimmer with an inner light, a verdant glow that contrasted strikingly with the inky blackness of her hair. This raven-hued cascade framed her face, each strand a polished obsidian thread, reflecting the world in a myriad of dark, shimmering reflections.
Tattoos: None.
Piercings: Ears.
Common Accessories: The necklace was a constant, a skeletal framework of ancient silver that clung to her collarbone like a shadow. Its allure lay not in the metal, however, but in the living jewels that adorned it. Each stone was a chameleon, shifting and changing with the whim of its wearer. With each change of dress, the void erupted into a dazzling display, mirroring the hues and textures of her ensemble.
Personal Information––– –
Profession: Investor
Hobbies: Reading, Traveling
Languages: Common
Residence: Stormwind
Birthplace: Drustvar
Religion: None
Patron Deity: None
Fears: Losing control
Relationships ––– -
Spouse: Single / None.
Children: None.
Parents: Lord Malachi Bennington & Lady Leandra Bennington.
Siblings: Morwen Bennington (Older Brother, alive).
Other Relatives: None.
Pets: None.
Romance ––– -
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Preferred Emotional Role: submissive | dominant | switch
Love Language: Acts of Devotion
Relationship Tendencies: Prefers "pets", goveling, doting
Traits ––– -
* Bold your character’s answer.
Extroverted / In Between / Introverted
Disorganized / In Between / Organized
Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded
Calm / In Between / Anxious
Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable
Cautious / In Between / Reckless
Patient / In Between /  Impatient
Outspoken / In Between / Reserved
Leader / In Between / Follower
Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic
Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic
Traditional / In Between / Modern
Hard-working / In Between / Lazy
Cultured / In Between / Uncultured
Loyal / In Between / Disloyal
Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful
Additional information ––– –
Smoking Habit: Ocassionally.
Drugs: Never.
Alcohol: Frequently.
RP Hooks ––– –
Heartsbane Coven:
Lythelle was more than just a beautiful face. There was an aura of mystery that clung to her like a shroud. Rumors whispered of her wealth, a fortune amassed with a speed and ease that defied explanation. Some said she was a pirate queen, others a smuggler, and still others a ruthless businesswoman. But none of these theories could fully explain the extent of her riches.
As her wealth grew, so too did the whispers. Darker tales began to circulate, painting Lythelle as something more sinister. It was said that she was a witch, a member of the infamous Heartsbane Coven. Tales of dark rituals and forbidden magic were whispered in hushed tones, and Lythelle’s emerald eyes took on a sinister glow in the minds of the superstitious.
Perhaps there was merit to their claims. Perhaps there wasn't.
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ofamin-a · 3 years
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avan jogia & they + them/ non binary ‷ watch out , avi amin has crash-landed into roswell !! they look twenty-seven years old and celebrate their birthday on july twenty-eighth. they are from san francisco, california, reside in the greystone complex and are currently working as a clerk at callisto costume store. one thing you should know about them is in their high school years they got so fed up with the ripped jeans fad, that they deliberately bought five pairs & sewed the holes up with rainbow thread. ‷
hello, gang !! mickey here with my child, avi ! i haven’t been in a tumblr rp in a hot minute, but i’m excited to be a part of this one ! so without further ado, below is avi’s bio ~ and if you wanna plot, i’ve got some wanted connections listed here !
BASICS
○ 𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛 𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘 :  avi balmohan amin. ○ 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘(𝗦) :  vi, abba. ○ 𝗗.𝗢.𝗕 / 𝗔𝗚𝗘 :  july twenty-eighth, twenty-seven. ○ 𝗭𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗖 :  leo. ○ 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥 / 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗦 :  non binary, they/them. ○ 𝗦𝗘𝗫𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 :  bisexual, demiromantic. ○ 𝗠𝗔𝗝𝗢𝗥 :  fashion design. ○ 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗢𝗪𝗡 :  san francisco, ca. ○ 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦 :  english, some gujarati, broken spanish. ○ 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠 :  avan jogia.
OVERVIEW
○  𝗜𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗙𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗚𝗘, your  parents signing the dotted line of their divorce papers a few months  after you turn four. too doe eyed to know what’s going on, but saddened  enough to remember missing the smell of your mother’s perfume. ○ 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨. his struggles  burdening the roof over your head as he juggles credit card debt and  working two part time jobs. bitter mutterings about your mother sticking  to the roof of his mouth whenever he cooks a TV dinner, your ears never  getting the full story on why she left. ○ 𝗨𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗨𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗬 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗛𝗜𝗠, it’s hard for you to let go,  your chocolate hues alighting beneath your mother’s scarves as you play  make believe with the clothes she left behind. adorning yourself in  white pearls & burgundy colored heels. the reflection in the mirror  marked as beautiful whenever you act as your mother & compliment  your appearance with a blown kiss & a dazzling grin. secretly  yearning for that maternal validation despite not recognizing it yet. ○ 𝗦𝗜𝗫 𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘  𝗜𝗡 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗘 you witness a smile curl onto your father’s  lips. the creases on his forehead replaced with dimples on his cheeks.  flowers in his hands, lipstick stains on his collar. as though he’s  filled the lines with technicolor, cracking open the seal of his heart  as he lets someone else in. ○ 𝗛𝗘'𝗦 𝗠𝗘𝗧 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗕𝗢𝗗𝗬 𝗡𝗘𝗪, that much is obvious.  this newfound relationship arousing a breath of fresh air once you’re  both introduced two months in, the baggage she comes with hanging off  her leg with the same doe eyes you once had a couple years ago. her  daughter’s messy hair resembling the unkempt mop atop your own head. ○ 𝗗𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗟𝗔𝗛. just a couple years younger than you. her innocence  wrapped up in scrunchies & bows, the chuckles that emit from her  chest like a gentle reminder that tomorrow’s a new day. and it’s funny —  at first — how different her outlook is compared to yours, the girl’s  high pony & idealism clashing with your loud, attention seeking  aesthetic. but as her life begins to bleed into yours, it doesn’t take  long for these contrasts to pit against each other, the uneven balance  soon challenged when your father and her mother decide to tie the knot. ○ 𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗬 𝗢𝗡 that you struggle to climb  the metaphorical ladder that’s wedged between the two of you, these  expectations & comparisons your father has placed now painting your  efforts as lazy & lackadaisical. delilah’s successes in science,  history, & math overshadowing your strengths in the arts &  theatrics, this nontraditional approach erupting a deep rooted  frustration within your father that inevitably boils over once you argue  your right to be referred to as they & them. ○ 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘'𝗦 𝗔 𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗩𝗘  𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧 between who you’re supposed to be & who you  want to be. tiptoeing this tightrope as you develop a dry witted tongue,  cutting through awkward family dinners by asserting your opinion over  those who disagree. dramatizing your words, enunciating each syllable in  the off chance your father will listen. instead, however, he reacts  with his fists banging against the table & he shouts, ” i don’t  understand you! ” to which you calmly look at him, sigh, & say, ”  then let me express myself & maybe one day you will. ” ○ 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗣 𝗧𝗢𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗦 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 is rocky at  best, an olive branch extending when you realize that your father’s  judgment had stemmed from a sense of loathing, one he’s held onto since  your mother left. he was blaming her through you because you harbor  qualities that remind him of how she used to be. like her knack for  creating things out of nothing & her ability to draw attention in a  crowded room, something he assures you is a compliment. ○ 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘  𝗣𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 & 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗦𝗢𝗠 into someone who makes  statements with black lined lids & painted fingernails, the mesh  fabric of your shirt just an invitation for bystanders to look. you find  confidence in your ability to maintain your own aesthetic, standing  tall when your influence bleeds onto those around you, a sense of pride  tickling pierced ears as you elicit gasps & criticism whenever you  walk into a room. symbolizing yourself as a trend-setter, someone who’s  effortlessly unbothered. this foundation of self-assurance often drawing  people in like magnets, these copycats & leeches, victims who’ve  lost their identity, now stealing inspiration from the only person  around who’s so sure of their own. you. ○ 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥  𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗧 𝗢𝗡 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟, you’ve already paved  your way, carving out a path that fits the image you’re committed to  uphold. and it’s because of your innovator instincts & entrepreneur  touch that you’ve begun marketing your own fashion line from your dingy apartment’s living room. this new position on life allowing you to mismatch &  retouch old into new in the hopes of one day catching the attention of  those who’re willing to promote & sponsor your latest creations in  your own name. ○ 𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗟𝗬, 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗩𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘. it’s been three years into your journey & instead of reaching for the stars, you’re stuck trying to cover rent while working a day job at the local costume shop. your originality, your  individualism, your opportunity — they slowly slip away from you as you burn your wallet dry & burn yourself out. this odd pond that is roswell, new mexico slowly drowning you with debt, the taste of tequila on your lips now becoming more of a crutch than a stress reliever as the projects pile high in unorganized sticky notes on your coffee table; losing yourself while trying to become something of yourself. ( you just gotta pull your act together ) which is why as you look in  the mirror & wear your mom’s scarf for old time’s sake — ○ 𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦: who even are you, avi amin? and are you ready to find out?
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wickedandtrue · 3 years
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@that-not-so-anon-rp​ said:
Stefani is awoken by a glowing orb. A glorb perhaps? No. That's a silly name. It approaches. And speaks. It tells of how she is some type of chosen one and this orb? It's your assigned guide and companion! Here to give you powers if you accept the terms it lays forth! It also turns into a small animal so that it may help even when others might see! Neat, yes? Now here comes the big questions. Does Stefani say yes? What color is the orb? What animal does it turn into?
Chosen ones are from fairy tales. Surely she is not part of such a life and she never will be. Perhaps that is why she listens. Intent on learning exactly what this mystical orb’s purpose is, Stefani is dazzled by its vibrant violet and scarlet hues. A mix of color that speaks to her heart whether she realizes or not. She says yes to the orb. Yes to a new destiny and the sparrow it transforms to leads the way. 
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The (Mis)Adventures of Two Children and an Irresponsible Chaperone, Ch. 1: Enter the Peak
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The first chapter of my RP with @heart-the-vessel / @zykaben ! The beginning of a beautiful friendship. Also, the beginning of the shenanigans of a True Chaos Trio
This chapter’s artwork is a collab between me and @zykaben ! I did the composition and sketch, she did the flats and shading, and then passed it back to me for effects! You can see a process gif here.
The streamlined, edited version is on AO3 here.
Words: 2542 Characters: Wiki, Elk, Heart Regular is me, indented is @heart-the-vessel Dashes are POV shifts.
Crystal Peak was truly a marvel unlike any other in Hallownest. Its glittering spires were visible from any point on the surface—though, admittedly, most of Hallownest was underground.
Of most interest were the crystals, shining with their own unique light. And with their own mysterious properties. Enough bugs certainly felt drawn enough to spend their entire lives and subsequent un-lives mining away at the ore.
Indeed, the crystals and their unusual properties were what drew Wiki and Elk to the caverns this day.
It wasn't long before they found themselves trailing behind a crystal crawler, Elk walking slowly behind it as Wiki observed its processes.
“Walking” was more “using amorphous tendrils to climb the walls” and “processes” was more “firing lasers,” though.
“Fascinating. Very fascinating!” Wiki floated in front of Elk, their tendrils hovering around the crawler. “Periodically focusing the energy in the crystals into a point of destructive light… They do say that these crystals can help you focus your energy. Perhaps it could improve your own focus, if we are able to refine its properties…”
“That would be pretty helpful… ” Wiki could feel Elk's spark of interest. “I don't often gather enough soul to easily heal. If the crystals help…?”
“Mm.” Wiki hummed. “They can, I'm sure. Just not sure how.”
No sooner had Wiki finished their sentence than they and Elk heard the faint sound of something—or someone—scrambling hastily against the rocky ground above them. Whatever it was sounded small, but they both knew that assumption wasn’t grounds to guarantee their safety, not in a place like Hallownest.
Then, with an almost startling amount of speed, something was dropping from above and to the ground, landing not even throwing-distance away from them. The both quickly made out the small figure, standing somewhat shorter than Elk and looking similar in build—a vessel. One with horns that curved up and inwards, ending in what looked to be sharp points. The only other real thing of note was that they seemed to wear a red scarf around their neck.
The vessel stared at Elk and Wiki before they took off towards them at a break-neck pace, arms waving frantically above their head as they did so. The vessel barely managed to skid to a halt before crashing into Wiki and Elk, still waving their arms spastically.
"Wh-" Wiki jerked back in surprise, leaving Elk to receive the brunt of the impact.
Said vessel could do little but try to catch the newcomer by their flailing arms, almost toppled by their momentum. "U-uh..." Elk pulled backwards, looking over the vessel before glancing to Wiki.
They placed a tendril on their chin as they drew near. "Hello, there! We didn't expect to see another vessel here. Where did you come from?"
The vessel waved at Wiki for a few more moments before stopping. Once they had stopped, they pointed upwards, head craning back as they did. They looked back to Wiki and Elk, letting their gaze drift between the two of them. They then reached under their cloak, seemingly rustling around for something.
The length of quiet stretched before the vessel perked up and jerked their arms back up. Held in their clutches were a sparkling necklace of gold with a royal blue gemstone strung from the end, a smooth, sparkling rock with a soft green hue, and a pink crystal—the same kind that grew unrestrained in Crystal Peak. The vessel held out the items towards Elk and Wiki, practically bouncing as they did so.
"Oh?" Wiki leaned towards their collection. "Ohoho?"
"These are so pretty!" Elk reached towards the vessel's handful of items, before hesitating in their approach. "Are these..."
"I do hope you wouldn't mind if I just-" Wiki used a tendril to lift the necklace with the blue gemstone (despite a half-hearted protest from Elk), eyes riveted on the glittering facets. "The way the light catches this stone! Hardly any skilled jewelers exist anymore, yes this is cut quite well. Oh, interesting... very interesting..."
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Elk fidgeted nervously. "Sorry, uh... Come to think of it, we don't know what to call you. Do you... have a name that you'd be able to share? If you can emote, or write, or..."
The vessel seemed to perk further up at Wiki’s words but quickly turned their attention back to Elk. They nodded to them, reaching under their cloak once more before producing a wrinkled piece of parchment and a simple quill. They scribbled on it hastily. After nodding to themself, satisfied with their work, they turned the parchment around. Sketched messily onto its surface were several hearts, an arrow pointing towards the largest one. They then gestured towards Elk and Wiki with their quill before cocking their head to one side.
Elk looked intently at the paper. "A bunch of hearts... oh! Heart! That's your name?"
Wiki gave a huff of amusement at the enthusiasm clear in Heart's scribblings. "Aheh... it suits the shape of their mask." Wiki traced a vague shape of a heart in the air, following the curvature of Heart's horns. "And, oh! If you were asking about us - this is Elk," Elk waved as Wiki gestured to them, "and I am Wiki, the Archivist. We share the same voice, sometimes the same body, and occasionally the same mind."
The vessel—Heart—nodded excitedly at Elk and Wiki before waving at both of them one last time in greeting. Once they had stowed the paper and quill away, they made a large, sweeping gesture around the area before pointing at Elk and Wiki, letting their head fall to the side in question again.
Wiki tapped their chin in thought. That would be... "Are you..."
"Asking what we're doing here?" Elk mirrored Heart's head tilt. "If so, it's mostly Wiki wanting the study the crystals and me wanting to see the sights."
Heart nodded, obviously pleased with Elk's deduction. They threw their arms around Elk in a short but strong hug before stepping back and swaying cheerfully.
Elk squeaked a but in surprise, Wiki chuckling a little in turn. They could feel Elk's slight embarrassment at that filtering through their connection. I wasn't expecting it, alright? Not a lot of bugs hug bugs they just met.
Understandable. But still amusing. Wiki turned to Heart. "You seem... much friendlier than I'd expect for a vessel. Certainly, more than most bugs, but my point still stands. I do wonder how long you've been wandering around here, free to develop your own mind..."
Elk smoothed out their cloak. "And it isn't really... safe, around here. I suppose you'd have to... hmm. Do you know your way around this place?"
Heart nodded to Elk’s question, their chest puffing up slightly with pride. They glanced at Wiki as they rambled before stepping forwards to deliver another quick hug to one of their tendrils. Once they had, they darted away and trekked a decent distance away from Elk and Wiki. They stopped and turned back, waving towards the two of them and then making sweeping motions towards themself.
Wiki blinked. My turn to be dazzled by such friendliness? They shook their head a bit, before looking towards Elk. Well... looks like they want us to follow.
Elk met Wiki's gaze, before turning back towards Heart. They seem nice. Might as well.
"Then, let us follow!" Wiki melted back into Elk's void, and they swiftly made their way over. "Lead the way, friend."
Heart gave a quick nod to Elk and Wiki, skipping along as the two trailed behind them.
——
Heart was so excited that they were practically shaking.
They had been scouring Crystal Peak for more shiny trinkets and pretty baubles when they had happened upon Wiki and Elk—and they were both so amazing! The fact that the two of them shared a mind was so interesting! Heart wondered what that would be like... maybe they could find a way to ask them. After all, they had taken Heart’s gifts, so that meant they were all friends now!
But that could all happen later. For now, Heart wanted to show their new friends what they had been leading to.
They had finally reached their destination: the large, decrepit mining machine that leaned against the cavern wall. The Crystal Heart (at least, that’s what Haunt had called it) had been a lucky find, one that Heart wasn’t looking to give away any time soon. There were probably more scattered about the mines, but Heart hadn’t found any yet.
Regardless, Heart turned back to their new friends and raised their hands up in celebration. They hoped that they would both be excited about the machine.
"Oh!" Elk craned their neck, peering at the machine. "That's... so cool. Do you know what it is?"
Wiki interrupted before Heart could respond. "A mining golem!" They all but exploded out of Elk, tendrils splaying across the stone and rails as they drew closer to Heart - and thus closer to the machine. "Amazing! I thought they would all be destroyed by now, a lot of bugs were concerned about their safety... And its core is still intact!" They turned to Heart. "How did you find this? Are there any more?"
Heart remembered all too well how they had found the machine. They pointed upwards to the hole above them. They still remembered the feeling of panic that had overtaken them when the ground under them had crumbled. But it led to such a beautiful discovery that they had long since made peace with it.
For the second question… Heart shifted their balance from one foot to another as they tried to remember. They might have seen another one, but it was on the other side of a tunnel that was filled with all sorts of hostile bugs—they hadn’t even tried to get to it. But maybe Elk and Wiki were strong enough to get through? Or maybe they were at least braver than Heart was, which wouldn’t surprise them.
It wouldn’t be a direct path, but Heart knew the way. There was a bunch that they could rest on that wasn’t too far away, and there was that fun area filled with all of the conveyor belts going up and down. It would be a fun adventure with their new friends!
Heart finally nodded to Wiki’s last question. Maybe there would be another Crystal Heart that their new friends could have!
Their eyes practically lit up with excitement, a contrast to their mildly concerned expression mere moments ago. "Truly? Do you- could you- do you think-"
Elk patted one of Wiki's tendrils, shaking their head. "What we want to ask is: could you take us to where they are?"
"Yes!" Wiki was near vibrating. "Oh, we'd love to study them, but I didn't know if you'd be alright with us messing around with this one if it was the only one you found."
Elk gave a huff of a laugh. "Though I suppose we should ask if they're easy to get to, as well."
Making sure to look directly at Wiki, Heart gave a cheery nod. They were more than happy to guide their friends to the other golem, especially since they seemed so interested in it.
Turning to Elk, Heart swayed from side to side before settling on a shrug. It wasn’t a particularly hard area to get to, but there might be problems if they encountered strong opponents. Heart could probably shield them all with their spell, but it was… less than ideal. If the journey ended up not working out, they could always show Wiki and Elk the Crystal Heart they had stowed away in their inventory, maybe even give it to them if they both really wanted it.
But for now, they’d leave the decision of whether or not to go up to Elk and Wiki.
Said two were looking at each other meaningfully, as if having some kind of silent exchange. Elk gave a one-shoulder shrug, turning back to Heart. "We'll take that as a 'sort-of.' Is it trouble from the mines if some parts are unstable, or trouble with the bugs around here?"
Wiki hummed. "Mm. We're quite good with maneuvering around environments. Having a number of amorphous limbs is quite useful, heh. As for dangerous bugs..."
Elk fidgeted with their hands. "We... I don't really fight. We're generally good at avoiding them and running away, heh, but we're not too familiar with this place..."
Heart watched Elk’s fidgeting. Plum said that some bugs did that when they were feeling nervous and that simply wouldn’t do! Heart stepped forward and gave their friend a big hug before they stepped backwards and brought out their parchment and quill again.
They sketched the ovular shapes of the miners and made sure to draw on very angry eyes to represent their hostility. After a moment of deliberation, they also drew on the crystals that some of them used to fire beams of energy. They added a quick depiction of a crystal hunter above them as well, giving it a smirk and the same angry expression.
Satisfied with their work, they turned it around to show Elk and Wiki.
Elk seemed to lean into Heart's embrace, moving a little towards them even after they pulled away. Wiki shot Elk a look, but the vessel simply gave a subtle shake of their head - Heart barely caught it.
Elk moved to look over to Heart's drawings, and despite their inability to make expressions, their eyes seemed to sparkle. "Oh! You draw so well!" They clapped their hands together once. "We saw a few of these earlier - we did our best to avoid them, though."
"That one, though." Wiki pointed to the crystal hunter. "That one was truly a pain. We got away, of course, but that doesn't make them any less irksome."
Heart perked up at Elk’s compliment, something warm and cozy settling in their chest. Maybe they could draw something for them later as another gift, something without mean monsters that wanted to hurt people.
Heart nodded in commiseration with Wiki’s comment. The crystal hunters were the worst. They flew around and attacked anyone they saw—and their crystal attacks just shattered into dust after less than a minute! It was a cruel thing, making something so beautiful that caused so much hurt and then just disappeared. At least the miners kept their crystals.
Heart stowed the paper and quill away before turning back to Elk and Wiki. They gestured vaguely back to where they had all came from and cocked their head to one side, trying to ask what the two would like to do.
"Are you asking if we still want to go?" Wiki tilted their head.
"We still do!" Elk pumped a fist, punctuating their statement. "A little danger can't hold us back from a fun adventure! Though we'd have to take your lead for this one."
Heart nodded eagerly, finding themself getting caught up in Elk's excitement. They rushed forward and pulled Elk in with one arm and Wiki's tendril in with the other and did their best to hug them. They let go and bounced back towards the entrance of the cavern and waved, ready for an adventure.
Elk bounded after them eagerly, Wiki once again merging into their void.
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mayzecaite · 7 years
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Death Becomes Us | The Proposition (RP I)
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A Roleplay between Aeron Waythe and Mayzecaite Delacroix.
Aeron Waythe:
The sun had just dropped below the horizon when he reached the gate, the long shadows giving way to the finality of the darkness. He always hated this time of first dark, when the world was at its most beautiful at sunset only to give way to the enveloping black.  Turning everything in its path to dull gray, then finally black.
The night was when his gift came to its full power, when the space between this world and the next was at its thinnest.
He adjusted his traveling cloak and continued walking the path to the main house. His boots making no sound as he continued up the long path. "This had better work," he told himself as the lights of the mansion came closer.
He hesitated just as his foot touched the first stair leading to the massive door. He was suddenly acutely aware of just how many spirits were trapped here. He had been able to hold back their growing presence, but now in the dark was their time, and they saw him.
His senses were suddenly assaulted with intense feelings of hate, endless sorrow and regret. All directed toward the woman who lived here. He hated her already.
He gathered himself and strode the final steps to the door. Three bangs later on the old knocker and the door slowly creaked open. "Good evening," he said to the doorman, trying to ignore the calls of angered dead that surrounded the mansion. "I'm looking for Lady Delacroix.  Please tell her that Aeron Waythe is here."
Mayzecaite Delacroix: “What is it? Stop hovering,” Mayzecaite threw at her reflection as the man appeared in the doorway behind her.
“Mistress, my apologies I,” the valet started, stammering. “You have a visitor, a Lord Aeron Waythe.”
She gave a look of disappointment as she ran her brush through a lock of dark, silky hair and then returned it to the vanity before her. “League, was I not clear in your duties? You are to turn away anyone who comes calling after dark.” Mayze’s lips pursed at one corner as she rose from her stool. The man, her newly hired valet, took a step backward and bowed low.
In her profession, she made it a rule that she would not receive guests during the night. It was when the spirits were most agitated, and she preferred to choose the time in which she invoked them or came into contact with them. The witch cinched her satin robe securely about her small frame and turned to him.
“My apologies, Mistress I,” he mumbled again.
“League, follow,” she called over her shoulder once she passed him in the hallway. She could hear his footsteps shuffling behind her, and the rustling of robes as her skeleton minion donned a cloak and hood to cover much of his frame. The bones of his feet were still visible beneath the dark cloth swishing about his ankles.
In unison, they descended the stairs. Mayzecaite entered the room first, followed by her minion who took his place impassively at the doorway. The valet stayed out of sight. The bone witch stopped out of arms reach of the visitor, “Lord Waythe,” she said, offering nothing more because at first she was annoyed at having a visitor so late in the evening and wanted to keep the meeting, no matter the nature, as brief as possible.
But once near him, she could better see the darkly clad stranger, a shaved head (curious, but a nice shape all the same), facial hair hiding his jaw line (well done, not too dense and certainly not sparse). He was quite attractive, and she was sure many women would swoon in his presence if he were to turn his gaze in their direction. Her posture changed rather suddenly and she blinked, lifting a hand to strands of long hair resting over one shoulder. “Mayzecaite Delacroix,” she said in a low voice rich and smooth as honey, fingers playing at silken tresses as her eyes glinted with interest. “League, bring us some tea,” she called, a small impish smile adorning her lips.
Aeron Waythe:
Aeron was immediately uncomfortable in the presence of the witch.  Firstly, her aura was not like anything he had ever encountered before among the living.  It surged off her in waves that were never the same hue or intensity, always moving, ever changing.  It had been washing off her in dazzling sparks of yellow and purples as she came down the stairs with her servant, forewarning her annoyance.
As her eyes caught him, it changed again to deep reds of hesitation with tinges of what could only be described as the color of blood.  Secondly, and most alarming, was that she was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her eyes were a deep azure that kept his gaze fixed and threw everything around her out of focus.  Two pinpoints of starlight that measured him and found him wanting.  Her hair fell around her in a wave of darkness that was both effortless and magical.  The light from the fire shown behind her and cast her in a light where he could only make out the slightest shape of her exquisite body.  She seemed to be aflame in the very essence of desire.  His mind cried “RUN” but he had to stay, to know, but he must not touch her…
He had known women, but encounters were very rare and ill-advised due to his reaction to human contact.  As a condition of his unique lineage, the slightest touch of human skin broke the mental shields that he had developed over a lifetime to keep the hungry spirits at bay, letting them feed off this simple interaction and, as a byproduct, bringing him to the very heights of human pleasure.  
He immediately regretted his decision to come at night.  The mental barriers that he used to keep the urges of the dead away were at their weakest; and the dead crave life, especially given the affinity for humans to lust.  Her presence only made it worse.  Aeron forcibly shifted his gaze from her blue eyes and crossed his hands behind his back.
“Lady Delacroix,” Aeron said, bringing himself up to his full height.  “Thank you for agreeing to see me, I apologize for the lateness of the hour.  I do hope I didn’t disturb you.”
They moved into the sitting room nearer to the fire.  He reached and took the tea with his gloved hand and asked if he could sit.  She nodded nonchalantly and he took a seat in the chair by the fire.
Aeron took a sip and measured his next words, carefully trying not to look too long at the witch in the chair across from him.  Her robe had slid away partially from her crossed legs, revealing toned and supple thighs.  He forced his heart rate to slow and as he regained his composure he cleared his throat and spoke.  “I have a proposition for you.” Aeron said casually as cacophony of dead voices screamed at him from every corner of the room.
Mayzecaite Delacroix: She kept hidden another smile which threatened to surface. Being so close to him was intoxicating. And it was more than the fact there had been no handsome man in-between her sheets the past week. There was something about this stranger she could not put her finger on. She was drawn to him, but was it simply because of the late hour, or because he was incredibly sexy in his brooding way and with each movement he made, the scent of leather wafted about them? She felt the desire to move closer to him, but he had already turned his attention toward the roaring fire.
"I am sure you will make it worth my while," she said in response to him and led him to the sitting area. Once seated, her gaze seemed to be intent on his form as the cup was lifted to his lips, then her eyes dropped to linger on his mouth as he spoke, and her smile did finally return. "Of course you have a proposition for me, Lord Waythe." The necromancer's narrowed gaze traveled upward once more, a brazen attempt to capture his as her fingers seemed to move absently along her exposed thigh.
'Why else would you be here at this hour?" She chided, continuing, "You fully dressed, and I in my robe." An arched brow rose as she gave a slight tilt of her head, her manner solemn. "Why don't you remove your cloak and gloves and be a proper gentleman caller if you plan to proposition me in the dead of night." Her smile faltered then, fading into the shadows of the room.
Aeron Waythe:
“Please, call me Aeron, my Lady.”
His pulse quickened as she spoke, her voice was smooth as silk but he had travelled enough to know that it could be tinged with poison.
He knew his continued hesitation to remove his outerwear would only arouse suspicion and be considered rude. So despite his better judgement he thanked her and stood to remove his heavy cloak and traveling gloves. All the while staying just out of reach. “My apologies.” He said and sat back down taking quick glances with his night eyes at her ever more welcoming posture.
During the day he saw as every human does, with the exception of also seeing the spirits of the dead. At night, his vision shifted, taking in all manner of horrors. He had his father’s eyes.
Her aura was a deep rose color now and flowed off her body and glided toward his chair. He reflexively sat back and took a deep breath, taking in her intoxicatingly sweet smell.
“I do appreciate your generosity for seeing me.” He said, letting his eyes rest on hers for a brief moment. She didn’t seemed phased by his appearance and milk white eyes. He was used to a certain bit of unease from people at his gaze but she seemed to want to hold his focus. As much as he tried to pull away, he found himself unable to avert his eyes elsewhere.
The hungry dead constantly lurking closer and closer, praying for him to slip and allow her touch. Oh how they wanted her to touch him; with both hatred and unbridled desire they could sense the living beings attraction to each other mounting.
“I need your help,” he said finally after again glancing at her thighs. “I’m looking for my father.” He added.
Mayzecaite Delacroix:
Mayzecaite folded her arms over her chest as she appeared to patiently wait for him to remove his cloak and gloves. His clothing was exquisite - expensive materials were used in the tailoring of the crisp white and soft grey ensemble. Waythe, she thought, eyeing the signet ring on his left hand when he was busy removing his other glove. She stood as he sat, sliding her glance in the direction of the fire. Had she heard the name before? Obviously a wealthy family, but she did not recall doing business with them in the past.
“Lord Waythe,” she began, making it clear they would not be on a first-name basis, and stepped toward the fireplace keeping her back to him. The heat emanating from the flame-licked wood felt soothing, but she was certainly not chilled, she was merely buying time as she thought over the past couple minutes. “I am not in the business of hunting missing persons. Unless, of course, your father is dead.” She hesitated only a moment before proceeding, half-turning her head so he could see her profile, “In which case I can be of assistance there, but it -will- cost you.” A heartbeat later she turned back toward the growing flames, listening for the pop and crackle of the fire, and awaiting his response. She knew whatever exorbitant amount she mentioned was one he could afford given his impeccably groomed state.
Aeron Waythe:
Aeron was completely taken aback at the brazen request of the woman.  A sudden flash of heat rose to his face, both in anger and in fear.  "You cannot know what you ask!" He blurted, his voice suddenly and uncontrollably rose, cracking the foundation of years of stoic etiquette forced on him as a child.  The anxious spirits howled in excitement at the change of events. The radius of their pacing decreased with each moment in anticipation.
Her insistence on him being searched was not unfounded.  She was, after all, a woman living alone after dark and he was a stranger to her.   However logical the request, it was not lost on him that he was, most likely, the vulnerable one during this encounter.  She was a very powerful witch and based on his extra-sensory ability to hear and feel the departed souls that moved throughout the residence, she was not likely to be forgiving of his refusal.
Nonetheless, Aeron took a long breath and tried to de-escalate the situation.  "Lady Delacroix, I apologize for raising my voice and I do understand your hesitation." He said gently, letting his cool eyes rest on hers in an act of pure contrition.   "Were I in your place, I would no doubt have the same trepidation."  
He raised his hands and slowly moved adjacent to her near the mantle so she could clearly see him in the firelight.  It was the first time he dared being this close to her.  The smell of lavender and perfume wafted  off her skin and hair in a way that nearly broke his will.  He stared into her crystal blue eyes in an attempt to convey a trusting affect.  Being this close to her was intoxicating to the point of insanity.
"But please believe that I mean you no harm." Aeron added and hoped he sounded convincing.
Aeron broke the gaze between them and moved out of the firelight. "It is not by chance that I seek you out tonight." He said. "I went to your sisters first and they were no help." He added.
Aeron considered the situation a moment longer and glanced at both the one she had called League and the skeletal minion cloaked by the door. He made a calculated guess  and spoke to her all the while looking directly at the cloaked and hooked figure standing motionless near where she had entered the room. "If you must insist on a search to allay your unease, then i wound ask that your servant by the door perform it."
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