#hope this works!!

[the-storm-chaser]

Continued from here

There had been rumours of cultists at the local tavern, their location tipped off to the swordsman by the barkeep, noting another had mentioned something about it. When described to the swordsman, her eyes went wide, noting the description was familiar to her. While they hadn't spoken much…the Medium came to mind, along with something she had mentioned.

She had travelled to ruins to find relics for her practice.

Could she have gone there for such a thing?

The notion concerned her, thanking the barkeep promptly before heading off in the general direction.

---

It took some time to reach the destination, noting that way had been left clear...and there was clearly some activiity coming from within. Without hesitation the mercenary drew her blades, heading in with caution.

Most of the ruckus was coming from up-ahead, still warm corpses lining the coridoors. The pendant crackled as she remained tense, unsure what to expect when she reached the main scuffle...

...And it certainly wasn't that.

The Medium was clearly injured, yet standing, still-bleeding bodies surrounding her. The woman froze as accusations were thrown at her left right and centre

...This...was the same woman she spoke to in the town square?!

What was she talking about? Dark secrets? The Covenant? These words sounded...panicked. Crazed even. Her hands shifted quickly, housing the knife within the main blade before raising her free hand in surrender, being careful with her tone.

'A-Anika...was it?' Her tone was shaky, but she tried to steady herself, focusing on her. 'Forgive me, but I was told you had come here, even after being warned about cultists. It...concerned me that you had...based on our last conversation.' Her gaze dropped to the corpses before her, blood seeping into the stone. She grimmaced, the grip on her blade tightening.

'I guess I got here too late...'

@undyingmedium

[lostwcnderlands]

-> closed starter for @mysteriousxgirls {{daphe && fioran}}

as the full moon rose against the horizon, fioran donned his darkest cloak && pulled the thick hood low over his blonde waves. it was the monthly gathering in the catacombs of his secret rebellion - wolves howling from below his window as if to promise the demise of the future, as foretold by nature && destiny itself. only guards && the odd servant with work running late would be wandering the halls at this late hour, the midnight bell already having been rung earlier. he'd memorized the path of the servicemen, and knew where to step on the stairs to keep them from creaking. the prince moved like a phantom through the well-decorated palace halls, slinking down to the lower levels with practiced, careful ease.

even as he pressed his hand to the old picture frame in the retired sitting room once used for the queen && her ladies (which hadn't been touched since her passing, now promised to belong to the new queen daphne... in time) fioran cast a cautious glance over his shoulder into the dark. he'd almost missed spotting it - the flicker of movement peering around the corner, the slight whisk of a skirt back behind the wall. eyes narrowed in the candlelight and his heart began to race. followed? all this way? but how? he stood, waiting, a hand going to the dagger strapped to his hip... but there were no sounds, no more disturbances, not even a breath in the night or a skitter of a mouse. all he could do was carry on - besides, fioran had already opened the passage, a gaping hole now revealed in the wall that led into darkness where once the painting had been upright. frowning, he slowly departed into the secret tunnel, feet light && quiet against the worn, dusty floors.

moving quickly, fioran took the twists && turns of the passage expertly, feet having long-since memorized the way. he allowed shadows to play against the walls, allowed whoever it was that ma have followed him watch the ways he turned. deliberately, carefully, fioran led himself in a route the opposite direction of the catacomb entrance- away from his rebellion, away from his murderous secrets that gathered with bloodlust && revenge in the night. until, finally, a dead end was just ahead, and he blew out the candle to shroud the tunnel in pitch black. holding his breath, fioran waited, back pressed against the wall of the dead end, and kept every single nerve on his body still. silent. waiting.

it didn't take too long before some figure, soft && smelling of something sweet, bumped into him in the eternal dark. " hah! " he growled, reaching out to grab hold of anything firm, to keep the little follower there in place. fioran, just as they were, lacked the sight to know who had trailed behind him for so long. " who are you? reveal yourself and perhaps you will not die here && now! " he hissed, the free hand that did not hold onto the mystery figure going once more to the hilt of his blade.

[thesearetheirstcries]

@dynastymuses gets PEN

Her mother was distraught, even moreso than Penelope was if she was being honest. She’d only been married to Lord Debling for two years, him having only been around her long enough for the actual marriage ceremony and nothing else. Meaning that there was no heir, and she was now a widow with nothing other than the money she’d already possessed outside of marriage. Penelope was sad, he’d been very sweet and nice and she’d enjoyed tending to his estate while he had been away. She’d even been able to become more of an observer of the social season facilitating her job as Lady Whistledown. But now it was all over, and her mother was already talking about how she would move back into the Featherington house immediately. Lord Debling’s brother had taken residence in the estate following the news of his death, allowing Pen to stay there until after the funeral. Her dowry had been set aside for her, and she was using that as an excuse to buy her own lodgings away from her mother, because she was not to return to that torture again.

She didn’t register much of what occurred during the funeral, there were a lot of pitying looks and many more condescending ones. She’d be the laugh of the Ton yet again, Penelope’s triumph in making a match had not changed many of their opinions on her spinster persona. If anything it seemed infinitely funny to anyone who disliked her that she’d managed to get married only to end up in a worse position afterwards. She’d finally grown tired of all of the fake condolences and she found herself hiding out in the library of the estate in an attempt to get away. The tears were now escaping, but not over the fact that she’d lost her husband, but over the fact that she was back at where she had been two years ago, but this time there was no Colin to make her feel more at ease. He’d disappeared before she became engaged and she hadn’t seen him since then.

[zaidshair]

location: the Medicentre @akhilaasthana

"Don't worry mate. She'll be there, she's always there," Zaid grunted at the effort, of half carrying a bloke named Jonny towards the Medicentre. Again, back here. Zaid might slag Akhila for always being here, but why did he always find himself here as well? Back on the beach, near the cruise ship, it seemed like the hornets had all fucked off. The ones attacking the ship all stopped in unison, did their fucked up buzzing click-clack thing, then rose un masse and flew off.

Zaid assumed it was back into the misty wilderness - that is, until he got to the Medicentre. The buzzing swelled as they got closer, and Zaid halted him and Jonny. He sat Jonny on a bench.

"Erm. Just wait here a moment," Zaid said; Jonny was in no position to refuse. Zaid approached the entrance of the Medicentre, peering in - but the loud festering buzz and scrabbling noise wasn't coming from inside the building. Zaid backed up to look on the rooftop, but no more hornets were up there, trying to destroy from above. He slowly walked the perimeter...

...and discovered a disgusting sight. A pile of hornets, dozens upon dozens of them, all scrabbling and flicking and piled on top of each other, like a clump of wasps moving nests. They were on the ground, piles of dirt forming as the ones on the bottom of the clump seemed to be digging, and the others on top seemed to help move dirt. All working together, but still extremely grotesque to Zaid's eyes.

The hornets were steadfastly ignoring him, at least. And, in his periphery, another person was also watching.

"...Akhila?" he asked. "Did you....what did you do to them?" Because this had to be the not-doctor surgeon's doing, somehow. Zaid continued speaking, faint but precise. "I...I brought Jonny, love. He's sitting out front. He was trying to fend off the hornets at the Odyssey, when a piece of the ship's hull fell on him, pinned his leg. We got him free, I brought him here..." For Akhila to fix. But Zaid was transfixed by the thick, wriggling pile of hornets at the back of her 'home'.

[chipistrate]

pspsps chip... do you have ur own vanny design/any references of her? asking for gift reasons :3333

HIII SORRY SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED RHIDJGHAES

I've got two designs and no proper ref for either of them- but here's what I could put together rq ^^;

I don't have a mask design for the second one but it'd probably be essentially the same as her canon one but with a star shaped patch on one eye- that or she'd wear a normal mask similar to the reluctant follower one- just with the palette adjusted to match her new softer colors

[eudaemcnia]

❛  Do  you  make  it  a  habit  to  keep  people  waiting?  ❜  Aventurine  asked  the  moment  Topaz  came  into  view.  He  didn't  have  an  appointment  with  her  nor  had  he  told  her  he  would  be  waiting  for  her.  He  was  just  sat  in  an  armchair  as  if  he  belonged  there.  ❛  How  does  it  feel  being  back  to  P45?  ❜

@librarivs liked for a starter

[hostiae]

❝ mr. molloy! ❞ he calls out, a hooded jacket protecting him against the biting new york cold as he approaches the journalist once he's on the sidewalk. he's spent the night tracking him, attempting to take care to guard his thoughts, to hide his presence. he's not sure it's worked, but it won't matter much longer.

typically, he doesn't approach other vampires in new york ( at least those he didn't know ). despite having ancient blood, he's aware of his limits. child vampires weren't given the strength of their adult counterparts.

gripping a copy of his book in his hand, he jogs to catch up with him, purposely human in speed, coming around to stop in front of him. ❝ hey, would you mind signing my copy? i'm a big fan. ❞ he offers a boyish smile, his attempt at being as disarming as possible. the book itself is at least a little worn, he'd read it a few times already, had analyzed it on his podcast, pretending the names meant nothing to him. he'd been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to meet him.

@pluresque liked for a benji starter !!

[saudadexmses]

starter for @corrupit muse: Sol Adams ( 33 years old (???). kraken. bookstore owner. thief. they/them)

Sol knocks on the door, over and over again in the hopes of getting the others attention, they weren't going to leave not in this damn storm that was pouring, not to mention that they looked like a mess, these past few days hadn't been the best." Come on I know you're in there! Just let me in!"

They knock one more time before taking a step back." Have some pity on me, can't you see I'm miserable? Please let me in or ill keep knocking until you do, I have no plans and I'm pretty determined when I want to be. "

[staticgcne]

@siempreminta whispered a line !! 100 nonverbal prompts ( accepting! ) 07 reversed - receiver wraps their arms around a hysterical sender to calm them

     HE  COULD  HEAR  THE  SOUND  FROM  VERY  FAR  AWAY.  The tell - tale cues of distress,  so sweet as it was.  High pitched hysteria,  really.  Was it panic?  Fear?  A result of a nightmare,  perhaps?  He followed the sound with a perked up ear  &&  eager eyes.  He spotted her quickly in the relative dark of hotel lobby.

        ❛  Oh,  my.  What seems to be the problem?  Dove,  yes?   ❜

     She was newer to the hotel,  he believed.  A lost little soul,  certainly,  sweet in looks  &&  behavior both.  A soft little sigh left him as he put a lengthy arm around around her small frame.  An attempt at comfort,  maybe.

        ❛  Why are you out here alone like this?  ❜

Nosy,  curious,  whatever you liked to call it.  Opportunistic.

[ccmplicatedweb]

@sonoftheshield ASKED FOR A STARTER

Natasha sighed, shook out her shoulders in an attempt to get her body to relax. It certainly wasn’t easy, with a stranger’s hands on her, but mentally and emotionally getting to that point was part of what made these trips worthwhile.

         The spa worker rubbing her feet (Arlene, divorced, mother of two, drove a shitty Honda, collected parking tickets and was mercifully quiet) was really putting her all into it. Her thumb found a knot that had Natasha tensing right back up, before she tried to force herself to relax again.

         The one working on Colton had called in reinforcements. Twice. Supersoldiers. It wasn’t often that Natasha was glad for her own bastardized version of the serum having mostly broken down, but it might just be worth it if she could get massages more readily.

         “I don’t need to tell you that you are covering the extra charges, yes?” she told Colton, not even bothering to pretend to disguise how amusing it was. “Do you think acupuncture would work on you?”

[imprvdente]

✉️ Fish, for Jinbe?

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 Send an emoji for my muse to send yours ✉️ a friendly letter @muses-inn

Jinbe,

How have you been faring on the seven seas, my friend?

I have found myself back in Nassau, where I grew up. There, I have hired myself a crew of seamen, not all of them worthy but all of them willing -for a price, of course. I do not know how they feel about my being a woman -for now, the appeal of gold has kept their lips shut.

All I need now is a ship. A sailor on land is hardly a sailor at all, only a lost soul craving the loving and cruel arms of the sea. I’m miserable! I might go insane while stuck in this damned harbor.

I do not know how long I will stay here, might be weeks at this rate. If you find yourself in Nassau, I’ll buy you a drink.

Fish.

[mvstra]

&&. @palespawn ❤️'d for a starter.

THERE ARE MANY PATHS IN LIFE. Some harder, some easier, some neither or both. But no matter the path one takes in Faerûn, they will always encounter The Weave, and henceforth, Mystra herself. Because for as much as she guards the weave, it is also a part of herself, one cannot exist without the other, not in a stable way, at least.

She keeps a close eye on it - and on those who use it. Some she watches closer than others, even if they have very little interaction with her magic.

So when a certain little vampire spawn starts dabbling, she knows immediately. She is intrigued. He had never shown much of an inclination for it before - outside some very basic fireballs and scrolls.

But she knows of him, knows he has traveled with her chosen, has saved the very land all mortals reside in. Her choice to visit is an impulsive one. But she's curious about this new acolyte and wishes to see where it takes him - as well as give him her thanks for the part he played in keeping the realm in one piece.

"Your hands are too high. Your movements too... sporadic," she says, appearing behind him without a sound.

Though her words are not unkind. They are simply meant to aid, to ease his practice as an introduction of sorts. After all, who would know more about how to control the weave than her?

[elijahbell]

starter for: @akhilaasthana

location: medcenter "Sorry to bother you this late, doc." Elijah said apologetically, making sure to keep the red-and-brown stained towel around his hand tightly wrapped as he pushed himself up onto the examination table. "I am usually very much able to take care of myself, but by the looks of it I might need stitches and sewing was never one of my talents. I might just sew my hands together."

It'd just been a stupid little accident. As it turned out, newly-found powers and sleep deprivation were a mildly dangerous concoction. At least he assumed it was some kind of power- otherwise he couldn't really explain how the sturdy ceramic mug had pretty much crumbled into (rather sharp) pieces when he'd gone to pick it up. The sleep deprivation, well, that was an entirely seperate issue.

Elijah let his eyes wander through the med center, and it's distinct Y2K atmosphere. For a hospital(?), it looked almost homely. Nostalgic, in a strange way. "I'm in luck today, I suppose. I didn't think you'd be in this late." He'd been rather surprised (although happy, for various reasons) that the light was still burning when he'd made his way north of their bungalow village. "Are you doing a night shift, doc, or am I keeping you from your well-deserved way home?"

[zaidshair]

location: the Hub @little-baski

Back home, Zaid much preferred the hot safety of the kitchen, only emerging to chat with VIP tables and the like. Here, he enjoyed designing and preparing communal meals for anyone who wanted it, compromising with the ingredients provided - dried, preserved, tinned, packaged.

Working the Hub was different. Zaid even enjoyed dishing it out, meeting the diners head-on. It reminded Zaid of charity runs he used to do (tried to drag Tej, but Tej said he had his own way of doling out 'charity'; truth was, Zaid never found out what that was) mostly for publicity, but. Deep down somewhere buried under his rotted heart, Zaid actually liked community service.

Which was why this supper-time, he was mulling over what possible 'service' those odd printed tape messages provided, for this community. It seemed everyone got one, about someone else. Zaid had yet to know who got his, and what the 'secret' even was. Tonight's supper was more muted than usual, everyone passing looks back and forth at each other with haunted, hunted wariness. Less people eating communally, too. Loads of leftovers, which Zaid stayed to pack up.

When he spotted Baskar (who usually slipped in at the end, Zaid noticed. Zaid took note of everyone's eating habits, it was his nature) quickly nabbing food from the chafing dishes, it made Zaid reach into his pocket. He read it again:

HERE IS A SECRET: I've started keeping a notebook of some of the things I've overheard on the island. Who am I?

Zaid was no amateur armchair detective. He'd been mulling over this secret all day though, idly eliminating people as he considered them - some too innocent, others not invested enough. And looking at Baskar, one word stood out on the message: overheard.

Could it be, really?

Zaid shifted quickly along the serving tables, so Baskar would eventually come within eyeline of the chef. "I knew you're avoiding me," he said to Baskar, as greeting. "Still pissed I saved you?"

[silvertiefling]

&&. Closed starter for @melihel-shadowhorn

" Ya really can't handle your liquor huh? " asked Katya dryly, watching as the other tiefling downed drink after drink, clearly enjoying the celebration party from saving the grove and defeating the goblins.

Not that Katya blamed her, but it was funny to see any of her companions losing composure in such a way.

Melihël was no different.

Katya herself had had a few to drink but was far from drunk, only feeling the beginning stages of tipsy. She had the tolerance of a god after all - considering she ran a tavern and was generally drunk on her best days before this whole tadpole mess.

" You're probably like... super flammable right now," she cackled.