#RP || Spiral

[scionheart]

Open RP Starter || Spiral

"Alright."

With fingers laced around the string of his bow, dark brown eyes shift to the individual next to him for a moment. Soft moonlight stretches across his side, the wind licking at the arc of hair in front of his face. There's a soft rustle of the leaves from the trees all around, grass shimmering at their feet. There's a slight illumination at the male's heels, soft blue in color, just barely unobscured by the greenery. To their left, a tree line followed by where the moonlight cannot reach. Within, a shimmering metal plate. Then another not far from it. The distance out into the empty plains before them contains more scattered about, held up by wooden stakes. Some are dummies that look as scarecrows, their lifeless forms seeming to be guarding the different directions they face towards.

Straightening himself up, Hanzo raises his weapon, it's arrow tip towards the one of the moonlight's reflections ahead. He silently slides one foot back, drawing a soft breath that matches his pull of the bow string. A few short seconds pass before his fingers release, sending the arrow whistling through the crisp air. With clang of the metal plate paired with the hard thud of the arrowhead lodging itself into the wooden support behind it, he lowers his bow. His deep, slightly gruff voice can be heard once again as he addresses the other.

"Show me."

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie sits at a piano in the middle of the park, singing to itself and hesitantly playing along. There's an odd skillfulness to it,like it's muscle memory brushed aside for too long.

"I want to roll the numbers

I want to feel my stars align again

Even if the earth breaks like burnt skin

And the heavens just won't open up for me

Would you invite me in again?

Won't you pay for your arrogance?

Won't you show me your weakness?"

Faer voice is quiet,barely audible over the piano.

[3ris-d1st0rtionnn]

Eris quietly walks through the various rooms of an art museum, assuming a slightly more humanoid form to blend in with the crowd. That constant buzzing never leaves it, and it’s clearly confusing the other visitors who can’t discern the source of the noise. Eris seems content; it’s always fun to return to its roots.

A familiar face in the crowd catches its eye. Its head turns to acknowledge the presence, a few bystanders clearly shocked by the painful-looking angle its neck tilts at.

((OPEN RP TIIIIIIME

[nobodys-soldier]

Amelie wanders the gloomy streets of London late evening. It doesn't know why it's out so late,but faer head wasn't giving it any rest. Is it hungry for something?

Ilania isn’t what he used to be, it’s true. But he’s trying his best.

Her fight to keep up the sophisticated look was abandoned quickly when the texture of velvet proved to be too much, trading itchy fur boas and uncomfortable shoes for sound-cancelling headphones and the darkest sunglasses she could find.

It doesn’t do much to protect him from the flashbang that Amelie is. Ilania flinches when he sees cat, pressing closer to the wall of the building he walks by.

At least their hair isn’t that godawful blue anymore. Maybe if he gets away quickly, they won’t notice him?

[little-watcher]

Amelie sneaks up behind Ellery, gently placing a tiny pumpkin on his head, giggling slightly.

ellery flinches, whipping around, then its eyes light up with a giggle. “why is there a pumpkin on my head?”

[residentsofhollowville]

When it and Az parts, Amelie decides to pay Mort a visit,not even bothering to change into regular clothes. So what if there's blood on faer gloves and the bottom of faer dress? It had fun!

They knock on his door, still feeling a little high on fear.

Mort hasn't been this happy in a long while. He is not alone. He's gained some understanding.

And given that, it might be time to leave this grave.

He answers the door and smiles.

"Good to see you again."

[weavers-of-the-prophecy]

A neon orange worm on a string drops onto Valentine's head. Tal is crouched on the ceiling, scuttling away to be just out of sight when they look up.

- @eyes-that-decieve

Valentine picks it up, shakes it around a bit, and then glances around, trying to spy its source. No sane, living creature would come into the home of a Spiral uninvited, so this is clearly only one, or perhaps neither.

"Helloooo?" they call out. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Fae can't keep the laughter out of faer voice. This is going to be a fun night.

[tw1sty-b1tch]

G3RTRUD3 R0B1NS0N? STUP1D 1D10T M0TH3RFUCK1NG G3RTRUD3 R0B1NS0N GOD DAMN FOOL RITUAL STOPPING KNOWLEDGE EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT AVATAR OF THE CUNT BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING GERTRUDE ROBINSON. STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT GERTRUDE ROBINSON I HATE HER SO MUCH WHY DID SHE KILL SO MANY OF HER ASSISTANTS WHY DID SHE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND BREAK FUCKING RITUALS? THIS BASTARD BITCH HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM NOT EVEN ALIVE BUT I KNOW SHE HAS THE WORLDS SHITTIEST CARDIGANS GET AWAY FROM ME.if i wanted to carry out our ritual but gertrude robinson was waiting inside i would fuck the entire thing up for the sole purpose of not having to see her. if i have to deal with hearing gertrude robinson speaking one word on a tape not only will i close the door i will delete my myself from existence out of spite and have to murder every tape with her on it for the experience of being able to completely block out the times when she is mentioned or alive. she is a manipulative bitch but i am not just mad because i am ANGY. she doesn't even have an actual fucking reasoning like the desolation killed my cat my ass. fucking old ass grandma looking could blow over in the wind shithead. BETTER have had a better reason for this cuz if she didnt Im going to make him.paypal.com/IFuckingHateGertrudeRobinson. conversation was not even about her. vaguely mentioned what is supposed to maybe be one of her past assistants and I lost it. why the fuck did elias kill her first i was going to fucking do it. being shot is too basic for that crusty old twat. i wish she was alive so i could have the pleasure of killing her myself. .crusty old woman. ill stab gertrude and her sad frail old lady twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge pointy fingers and she will disintegrate until all thats left is one final bomb she kept on her at all times with a post-it-note simply reading fuck you in ancient yiddish. im not breathing im hyperventilating at this point. i hope theres a date given for when gertrude died so i can make it a reminder on my phone, and everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the woman who had so many assistants slaughtered

[th3b3tt3rd1st0rt10n]

h3Ll0

-@tw1sty-b1tch

m1ch34l .

[shattering-connections]

Laertes tumbles out of the theater, laughing. God, what a wonderful, warped place. He could stay there forever. He doesn’t think so much about where he’s going as much as deciding to blip somewhere out.

Casi, for its part, immediately spots something off about the stranger who comes barreling out of nowhere, clutching his sides and crowing delightedly. And it isn’t just their odd manner of appearance, the uncanny flash of their smile.

This person(?) is covered in strings. Most go nowhere, trailing behind like an entourage- and yet never tangling, never tearing. They are in pristine condition for whoever would like to pick them up next.

Where most strings are connected to a person, a thing, a compulsion, these just seem to wait. They aren’t stuck to anything. It’s like they’re left out on purpose for the sake of any weaver who wants them.

The Web quickly invites Casi to give it a try, if it would like.

@laertesthelocalstranger

Casi is very surprised to see someone tumble into its corridors. Really, it shouldn't be, with so many doors, someone's bound to stumble through one. But this one didn't! This one just showed up! Right in the middle of its web!

"Hello!"

It calls, unfolding eight limbs to clamber down from a hammock like web in the corner of the ceiling. It almost delightedly picks up the strings, not quite doing anything with them yet. It has to figure out how they work first! It just barely tugs on one, just in case this one decides to run. That would be very anticlimactic, this one just got here!

[allthesemechanismsbutnocoping]

Amelie chases Willard through their building, trying to take away the ball of yarn that's been stolen from them. Unfortunately, they've never been good nor fast at running,and end up tripping. The cat happily runs away, leaving Amelie laying on the ground in a mess of sprawled tangled limbs and pumpkin orange curls.

Jonny took a singular step outside of his room before seeing something vaguely cat shaped, running right at him. He jumped up with a yelp, clinging on to the wall. "Shit, where's my gun?!" He patted his sides with both hands and promptly fell off the wall he was just clinging to. He backed against the wall... until he saw it was just a normal cat.

As normal as any cat could be in their world.

"Winston," Jonny grumbled, getting up. "No, Watson. Wilson? William?" He hummed and grabbed her, giving her scratches. That was when he saw Amelie on the floor. "Lost something?"

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

You can see it from the outside! Countless pumpkins and fairy lights directing you to a door! Knock knock knock on it, trick or treat!

(The door to Amelie's building has a big Welcome To The Party sign on it, there's Halloween music playing behind it)

[3ris-d1st0rtionnn]

It’s an odd hour of the night, much later than normal for Eris to be out. This is the one instance where it doesn’t want to be seen.

Its neon insects float sporadically around the area, giving the appearance of colorful fireflies. Most of its swarm hovers closer to it, awaiting its instructions as it practices controlling its new abilities. It’s found a way to teleport and manifest through them, but it has a long way to go.

[nobodys-soldier]

Amelie doors into Elias' apartment with a big box of takeout. It hopes it didn't go wrong with the choice,since it doesn't eat that sort of food (or much food in general)

Elias is actually doing something unexpected. He stands in his living room in front of a canvas, sleeves rolled up, apron covered in paint splotches tied around his neck and waist.

He turns around at the creak of a door that wasn’t there before, for once not holding a weapon to point at the intruder.

Huh. They haven’t brought food before.

[avatar-of-the-blank]

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MOUNTAIN RANGES WITH SNOW CAPS:

[residentsofhollowville]

Amelie walks into the graveyard slowly, still feeling a little unstable on their feet. They're wearing sweatpants and Jackson's sweater, mostly because they need that little bit of comfort that it brings.

Mort sits against the side of his house, his chest heaving, his mind reeling. What is he supposed to do after all that?

What he's always done. Be kind.

He doesn't see them. Mostly because he can't stand to. But he'd know that unsteady tread if he were blinded.

"Amelie? I - did you - are you alright?"