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Post by Flare on Sept 10, 2019 9:02:37 GMT -6
The piece of jewelry or what not is snagged on the blanket/wrap thing. Carefully to not tip himself over again, flare dislodges the object from the blanket, briefly examining it for damages. Nothing, thank goodness. Just a caught leaf. The circlet object seems to be almost necklace in shape, but more built for a human head then for a reptile head.
As it could be, his stomach made itself known. A deep throaty growl of FEED ME from within. {Wish I had food...} he mutters, circlet in hand. The object literally pulses in his hand, and something slaps down on top of it; he blinks. Its a... raw meat something. Bits of fuzz are visible on the edge, like a badly finished butchery job. But, for a reptile, it was indeed food. His stomach rumbles again, louder. 'I'm not an animal.' he growls to himself, but opens his maw anyway and tears off a chunk of the meat.
68
9.20
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Post by Flare on Sept 10, 2019 9:08:28 GMT -6
When he had been forced to eat something dead in the desert, raw, it turned the drake's stomach so badly afterwards he couldn't eat for a few days without feeling like his insides would exit through his maw onto the sand. However, he didn't have the easiest time trying to eat anything fruit or vegetable that was raw either; his jaw structure was too different and built for tearing and crushing, not sawing and grinding like a herdbeast's teeth. This wasn't turning his stomach immediately, so at least it wasn't initially bad meat. Plus he'd eaten a raw steak earlier today, and that hadn't done wrong things to his insides. Hadn't tried to eat a steak or any meat that was cooked yet though. What he did realize was this circlet thing had... made food out of nothing. Was this some sort of magic trick?
Not entirely sure either. He affixed it carefully around his neck, over the tooth necklace.
69
10.20
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Post by Flare on Sept 10, 2019 9:12:33 GMT -6
The vines around it caught together as he removed his hands for fit, it seemed to work well enough to get it back to the garden. A thing that could make him meat. How interesting. He had very little good experiences with the unexplainable, but this may be a good thing. Free food. {I wish for an apple, bright yellow and split in half.} he told the circlet. Nothing. The serpentlike eye orb at its apex had gone dark after summoning the food initially. {I wish for meat.} Still nothing. Huh. Was it a one time use? and he'd wasted it? Hmmm.
The drake considered this as he kneels to spread the blanket out on the ground, What he couldn't carry, he packed up into the blanket wrap. One hand would be clinging to the pile blanket-wrap thing and the other holding tight to the old rake and the cane staff.
It was time to go for now, as he only had two hands and no way of carrying anything else. The crow drifted overhead, carrying its corn and watching the reptile who sounded like a cat.
70
11.20
-end-
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Post by Renathan on Sept 10, 2019 11:04:11 GMT -6
The mansion was silent, as if it didn't have any parting gifts for you. However, a nice inviting autumn wind passes by on the way out. Is the mansion inviting you to come back at some point? Who even knows what is going on with the mansion?
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Post by Flare on Oct 2, 2019 6:34:04 GMT -6
Nightmares. The nightmares were coming back. The endless plane with a floor of mist, guarded by the Bonekeeper. The great beast of bones and magic and reaping souls that spoke words that he could not hear. Each night, the nightmare grew more vivid for nearly a week. It robbed the ssashirk of a good night’s sleep for long long several days. His senses dulled from lack of sleep, he didn’t notice the phases of the moon. For he didn’t see a sky in his dreams; it was nothing but a gradient of light to dark grays. He buried his head into the soft pillows of his him-sized barrel bed, tossing and turning. Kicking out at what wasn’t there. The blankets beneath him kicked into a tightening wad at the edge of the crate, but not enough to fall out.
The seventh night brought a very vivid nightmare to him, just as the full moon crested over the trees. He wasn’t in the plane of mist this time, but standing in the yard of the magic house.
Something was dreadfully wrong here. The whole of the grounds were brown, crisped and dying. The house decaying before his eyes. Eyes peering out of the darkness. Occasional screeches of night flyers overhead. The subtle tug that drew him to the magic house initially in his weakened state came over him. ‘come’ it called, in the tone of magic that only those who could sense it could ‘come’.
In the night, or day, he didn't realize it in the throes of his nightmares, the drake hobbled the streets with his cane-staff, not dissimilar to a drunk with the gait, towards the magic house.
October 1
10.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 2, 2019 9:51:46 GMT -6
 
- Character Profile -
( Sculptor, Carpenter, Architect, Magical Awareness )
Excursion I
( in company with Flare )
(Accompanied by:)
Fléau, (female)
Stamina: 2
Strength: 0
Resistance: 0
Dexterity: 2
Mentality: 1
Special Abilities: Flutter, Infectious Bite
Moves: Scratch, Peck
Level: 5 (0/5) / Loyalty: 12 (0/5)
- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
~ Discoveries ~
1 x Syrup Monster
1 x Spooky Wax Leaf #3
1 x Spooky Wax Leaf #2
1 x Spooky Wax Leaf #1
1 x Red Howler
1 x Mystic Crystal Ball
1 x Haunted House Model
Total Posts At the End: --
- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
It was the eve of horrors once more. Once more the lepus found himself upon the doorstep of the cursed estate. There was no room for primp and proper attire in this callous den of nightmare and terror for there was work to be done. He had dressed himself in his garden-work attire and brought with him his garden-work tool. Where the former was a simple combination of plainer clothes, the latter was by appearance only a shovel but inside it held within arcane power with accurate designs to counter such abominable nonsense. There had been a tempting thought to bring the seeker with, a thought quickly dismissed for even for such a den the seeker was as yet too unruly. In the beast's stead was the bird, sat upon the lepus' shoulder. It was both company and incentive. He could be assured of a familiar presence by his side, but in exact same measure become responsible for the bird's well-being.
The lepus stood straighter, pulling the blade of the shovel from the earth it had rested, acting both weaponry and walking aide, and prepared himself to enter the first of many rueful yards of the estate. But for a noise which caught his ear, turning his attentions to an equally ghastly sight of something.. quite possessed approaching from the walkway.
|1|
October: 2
Fléau: 1 (1/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 4, 2019 4:48:33 GMT -6
Whatever was pulling the ssashirk along, it wasn't doing kindly. Nighttime characters, if they paid attention, could see the exhaustion in his movements; this wasn't a creature who had been allowed much sleep in the last week or so. This wasn't sleep though, it was the throes of a nightmare for him. Of endlessly seeking the end of the plane of souls. It could be compared to the surface of the moon, if there was enough atmosphere on the moon to have fog. Above Flare's head, inside his mind, the moon shone red. A blood moon. But his body was walking itself towards the mansion without hesitation. Perhaps it was that cruelly glinting tooth that sat upon his chest. What had given it to him, could be wondered. Its a small tooth, but still pulses with a faint... power of enchantment magic. Like its only able to function during a specific time of day/night or of year. Hmmm.
3
19.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 6, 2019 9:21:59 GMT -6
The immediate impression of the person was of one who had got into bottles too deep. The staggering walk, the dead eyes and obvious disconnection from the world around them. The lepus was not well-versed in the anatomies of the lizard-bloods, even professionally. In the towns and villages he had lived since leaving his home there had been but few such races present. None had died to provide that manner of experience. Whether the person was ill or simply ill-minded was a mystery. The bird ruffled her feathers, a sound of discontent escaping as she eyed the approaching individual. The lepus had to concede to her instincts in this, for she seemed better attuned to a situation with present danger.
"Good evening, sir." The address was towards the ssashirk, the tone cordial and low. "Are you well? You appear pale around the scales." This was an assumption. The evening light would not have allowed for such accurate assessment. It was more intended as pretence than truth. "Do you require assistance?" The hand reached up to place on the ssashirk's shoulder once he would be within reach to do so. Though his eyes had a natural glow from within to them, there was no magic used quite yet.
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October: 4
Fléau: 1 (2/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 6, 2019 10:13:19 GMT -6
Nearer and nearer, the creature approached. The ssashirk's gait did not change from its dragging, staggering walk. Only its staff-cane seemed to keep it upright. Moving from cobblestones onto the tamped dirt path that led past the house. A sputtering street lamp illuminated the ssashirk briefly. His scales blossom in colors of red, orange and yellows. Shadows carve at its reptilian face, but deeper still onto the shadowed part of its face. But the eyes. Typically gray, they had a discoloration of shattered gold. There are wings, badly maimed wings, sprouting from the ssashirk's shoulders. Presently, he wears nothing but that necklace. It's a tooth, with some adornments, that stands out on cream colored chest and belly scaling. The scales were not dusty with age, perhaps they had shed recently, those chainmail linked scales. Finishing off was a sharp tail dragging along behind his big reptillian feet. The ssashirk finally seemed to stop in front of... whomever or whatever this was. The other spoke. Spoke words and assumptions. A sharp noise of forced discontent came from teh being's jaws.
{Hardly well.} the voice speaks in a rasp of Common with a heavy accent. His maw turns upward in a mean smile. {Hisss own fault for leaving himself so open... to possesssion.} A sigh. {You. You stink of magic.} as the hand lands on his shoulder. {What can that even do for the walking dead. Against it.} A hissing amount of chuckling. {Or against a self proclaimed god.}
5
2.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 6, 2019 10:34:33 GMT -6
The suspicions had been given merit. And furthermore, unconditional proof. This was not a state of drunken wandering nor vagabonding habits, but something greatly worse. He listened intently then, as the creature began to speak. There was an accent, heavy enough to cause him great focus to make out words. Words that would have, in some ways, been best left unheard for they only held great troubles. The bird raised her wings and shrieked raspily at the creature. She would have taken flight if she could, but her wings needed yet to grow and the lepus was better an option than alone.
The lepus studied the creature passively. He stood tall, taller than most of the rest of the City's populace, but his wiry frame would not have made ample match against this lizard-blood. When one could not match brawn, one could still match brain. The lepus blinked slow, studying close the sneer and malicious intent of the voice. Perhaps this night the accursed mansion was not the only such evil force walking about to ensnare the innocent. If indeed the ssashirk had innocence to snare. "Forgive me, for I do not speak your language, sir. I would hope Common will suffice," he began, hand holding to the other's shoulder firmly. "However, I feel the requirement to correct your assumption. Indeed, your language to me is foreign. But in matters of the undead.. in this I know a little."
The eyes flared briefly, the palm of the hand as well. "And I can grant freedom." Energies surged through the palm to the word of power, and into the ssashirk. A touch of light framed as a burst of force to dispel the darkness within the other's mind.
|3|
October: 6
Fléau: 1 (3/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 6, 2019 11:00:28 GMT -6
The possessed ssashirk pauses at the touch of the other. A kind of creature it..they had never seen the likes of. Tall, wiry, and furry. Their ears were on top of their head, giving more height. This body was tall, but not THAT tall. The eyes roved up, drove downwards, taking in the opponent. The stinking magics gave them a glow from within, from within the eyes.
It understood the creature with ears quite well. The ssashirk's learning of Common wasn't to the point of a fluent conversation, but there was enough there to make words. Make conversation. Knew matters of the undead a little? Pft. Grant freedom? Even bigger amount of pfft. {Do your worst, magician's pet} it hisses at him.
The force of magic through the body and mind shook its grip on the drake's mind. As the grip faded, the possessor sneers words at the other. {You'll regret releasing my grasp from this mind. He is unwhole. No amount of purge can reverse this unwhole being....NONE} Something indigo seemed to cloud around the ssashirk, and then dissipate.
From one point wandering the plane of the soul, to the chilled night of outside. Had he fallen asleep finally? No longer gold-flecked, the gray eyes blink and look about, as his limbs fold and send him to his knees upon the ground.
7
3.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 6, 2019 11:20:00 GMT -6
The palm released the shoulder when the discharge of light was infused and he watched the reaction with a still expression. It was as of yet unknown whether the body of the lizard-blood was held host to a being of malicious nature or it was such nature itself. Possession was a dark and strange art, in his research he had come across tales of one's soul being completely lost to an evil spirit once it had taken hold. In others the spirit merely suppressed the original person. Truthfully, the lepus had made an attempt to dispel the evil part, but was none the less prepared to face and, indeed, properly vanquish the spirit should it have insisted on clinging to the body. The palm radiated faintly for the moments in which the spirit viciously seemed to lash out at the previous spell. The lepus simply watched, stoic, and spoke but one word. "Begone."
The body of the creature then collapsed, a whisk of smoke escaping from it. It appeared to have worked.. for the time being. The lepus set the shovel in the ground and settled the bird to perch upon the handle, before he knelt down to once again place a hand upon the ssashirk's shoulder. This time there was no spell, no magic, but a simple look of concern. He bent to catch the other's eyes and asked, "Sir, are you well?"
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October: 8
Fléau: 1 (4/5)
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Post by Flare on Oct 6, 2019 11:34:56 GMT -6
Several moments seem to pass where the ssashirk just kneels there, completely and utterly lost. Shakily, he reaches up to his face, to bite down on the pad of one finger. The sharp small piercing pain seems to work and snap the two disjointed pieces back together. The finger is dented, with a slight red welling on the pad. He blinks, looking about, still lost on location. The pull inside him that drew him towards the pulse of what appeared to be magic, or could be, seemed to be drawing him still. There is someone before him. Flare pauses, his gaze settles on... a human-animal? Furred with slightly glowing paler brown eyes, a cap perched between tall ears, not unlike orbaru ears, and the garb of one dressed for work. Hard outside work. The fur is white and marked on points with brown. He's never seen a mammalian with tall ears like this before.
It speaks to him, in common. It takes a few tries of processing the simple sentence to understand what's being said to him. "Lossst" he manages to croak roughly. The reconnection of his mind and his body seems to drain his strength further. The disconnection had done nothing towards allowing a full night of undisturbed rest. "Orbaru? Whaat?" He points dumbly at the creature.
9
4.20
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Post by Evainmoire on Oct 6, 2019 11:50:46 GMT -6
There is a sense of confusion and displacement in the other. Under such circumstances as possession, that would be an expectable outcome. In this the lepus could, presently, do very little other than simply exist nearby. He waits and observes, allowing the ssashirk to come to terms with his present conditions and situation. The process itself is sure to be an uncomfortable one, so the lepus' hand stays on the shoulder as a means of physical support, of an existential anchor into reality. Beginning stages of recognition come and pass, the person returning to their senses, such as they are, with gradual pace.
"Lost, yes," he confirms the initial phrase. "I'm afraid I do not quite know who or what an 'orbaru' is, though I would chance to agree there are none such here at present." Even the bird ended up calmed, giving a more neutral chirp at these strange antics of the stranger. "Sir, I find it my duty to inform, you were under a dark spell for a time. I do not know when it began or whom cast it upon you. For such time being the dark presences has been dispelled and your mind is free. Do you have any memory of this event, and, perhaps, its cause?"
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October: 10
Fléau: 2 (0/5)
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Post by Renathan on Oct 6, 2019 11:53:19 GMT -6
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