Fantasy 𝙇𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙕𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤 (closed)

[sophocles]

LOCATION: Kito's Carriage

MOOD: Stressed, Surprised, Uncouth

INTERACTIONS: Heavenchi

osran gyves

health

The Wolf Slayer’s dismissive nature towards his injuries caught Osran by surprise. He has expected some form of pushback from any one of them— a wounded warrior left room for mistakes. Two wounded warriors could be lead to fatalities, should their injuries win them over. Yet, the Wolf Slayer disregarded neither him nor the Bowman for their faults.

He did not know whether to respect her or question her for her lack of judgement. It was her call, however— he was not to inquire on her reasons.

Now, the young girl sitting at the Wolf Slayer’s side was a Fae. A slayer blessed by the Goddess of Nature, Ada. She so simply and selflessly offered his gift to the four of them in the most unsettling way— her ability to heal. An ability that only existed through the source of her life. Her blood.

A thought— a glimmer— a notion of an idea entered Osran's mind at the mention of the blood of the fae. An echoing voice, trapped in the confines of his mind.

What if... my eye... my arm…

It was as if, for that split second, he was ravenous— he craved nothing more— to feel his pain wash away entirely—

Osran. Stop. What are even you considering?

“Coveting the blood of fae is punishable by death.”

He shook his head violently and the impulse had vanished. However, the memory of it remained— much to his own horror. How— how could he imagine doing such a thing, stealing the blood of an innocent girl? This desperate hunger was unlike anything he had experienced before— and it terrified him. For five years, he had attempted to come to terms with his injuries, though attempt was perhaps too strong a word. A failure of an attempt, obviously. He was as hurt in body and in mind as he was the day his family…

As the day he lost his faith.

He swallowed, attempting a solemn nod, a sign of agreement to the Wolf Slayer's orders. He needed to keep his distance from the Little Fae— at least, for now. He could not trust himself— not that he would ever allow himself to hurt her. Osran was not a bad man, but hurt men did strange things.

Gods, he needed another drink desperately. Anything to get out of his head. He hadn’t spent much time sober in the last five years for a reason, after all.

"As for our Imani blessed..."

The Wolf Slayer had continued her speech without missing a beat, leaving Osran to pick up the words she left behind.

Blessed.

Osran’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to denounce the name of that... liar... in front of all of them. Blessed? No, more like cursed. The god played no part in his successes; only his failures.

Yet, it would be ill-timed to do. He did not wish for them to think less of him— yet. No doubt that they would, but that would come in time. He wouldn't be able to keep his disdain a secret forever.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

With a deep breath, he let the hated name slip from his mind. The Wolf Slayer’s eyes were on him now— he could feel her gaze almost burning him. Not a burn in the way of injury, but of warmth.

She had understood his unspoken plea, it seemed. Osran felt more comfortable in the darkness ever since obtaining his injuries— a missing eyes and wounded arm did not make for the most comfortable battle environment these days, though he would never admit it. In the shadows, however— he didn’t need his eyes. His hearing, his sense of smell— they were enough. A dagger would not miss its mark. A surprise could not exist on his watch. His companions would be protected from those shadows, without any doubt.

He was able to meet her gaze for a split-second— his yellow eye meeting the glare of her amber colored glasses. A split-second before he had to look away, but perhaps long enough to ensure her of his agreement— that is, if she could see past his unease.

“Shadows it is, Wolf Slayer.” He murmured quietly, as if half to himself.

The Wolf Slayer and Winged One in the lead, the Little Fae in the middle, the Bowman in the rear, and himself in the shadows— perhaps a rather well-rounded group. The results were yet to be seen.

The Winged One’s gentle smile did not go unnoticed, though he couldn’t meet her gaze. Did she— had she noticed the same distress in him that he had seen in her? He could not be sure, but there was something in her smile that told him as much. The Little Fae seemed upset— the small furrow in her eyebrows had given her away, at least to him. She didn’t seem happy with the Wolf Slayer’s orders. The Bowman seemed at ease among them— a sentiment that Osran wished he could share.

He waited a few beats, eye darting between his companions. None of them seemed to offer any questions, but he could not help but ask what he had been considering since the morning. He cleared his throat, trying to mask how dry it had become.

“Given the… nature of this… escapade... what are our chances of success?”

He frowned. No, that's not what he wanted to know. He had been thrown offguard by the presence of his companions; the Little Fae in particular. He had thought to refrain from asking for her sake alone—

No, he put himself on the front lines of this guild request for a singular reason, and he wanted a real answer.

Sorry, Little Fae— the truth could set us free.

"… in honesty, Wolf Slayer... what are our chances of dying?”

He squinted his singular eye. What he lacked in his sight was not made up by his couth.

code by valen t.

 

[Heavenchi]

Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."

Kito smiled at Rowan's commentary. He expressed a sentiment that complimented her point. Kito couldn't help but notice he possessed an emotion to his words that she lacked. Rowan reminded Kito of her fellow captain when she was still in the Zorro military. Similar to Rowan, Kito's old comrade often articulated points from a softer standpoint. Kito would have to give him an incentive to encourage that behavior. Perhaps additional coin, or a contract that allowed him to ask one favor that had to be granted from the House of Burgundy?

Before Kito could dive any further into her thoughts, Osran's inquiry reached her ears. Involuntarily, Kito's body tensed as her eyes moved from the window to Osran. He was bold, but understandably so. His life would be on the line. It would be foolish not to ask. However, it did offend Kito's pride a tad that her presence alone didn't wash away all curiosities regarding the manner. With a sigh, Kito removed her lenses to present fiery amber eyes. With a squint, Kito spoke directly to Osran.

"I don't know. I can only access so much through words. We all indeed have impressive resumes but, the Forest is a different beast," Kito stated softly. Unlike her prior commentary, she made a point not to bark out her words.

"Alone I've slain packs of B-tier lions and hounds, swarms of C-tier insects, and a handful of A-tier monstrosities," Kito elaborated.

"Our fate depends on what we can do alone, combined with one another's skills."

✏ Serious, Kito is addressing the subject earnestly.​

---

A Child's Hymn
Let the major five, if only once, look fondly~ towards me.
Ada save me, Ada bless me, Ada help this wretched soul~.
Imani guide me, Imani help me, Imani enlighten~ this blind fool.
Barren fuel me, Barren drive me, Barren let me conqueror foes~.
Myera trust me, Myera pick me, Myera please give me~ cool.
Noah bless me, Noah choose me, Noah let me starve no more.
Let the major five, if only one more time, look fondly~ towards me.
​

Silence followed Kito's commentary. It seemed unanimous this conversation would continue elsewhere. Fortunately, the group's destination was reached shortly after. The luxurious carriage came to a soft stop before the rider announced their arrival to the group. Despite the carriage's simple exterior, the owner of the Uprising Diner knew immediately who had arrived. As a result, two waiters could be seen outside the Diner's double doors. With soft smiles, they could be seen holding the entrance open eagerly. Soon after, a rather gaudily dressed woman scurried outside to greet Kito and her comrades. With each step, the woman's jewels clanked together, matching the rustling sounds of her heavily layered chiffon dress.
"You grace our humble diner once more," the woman cooed with a dramatic bow. This was the Uprising Diner's owner. Kito nodded in response before looking past the peacock of a noble. The woman's words were an attempt at flattery and a deep understatement. The pristine brick exterior and dramatic shrubbery alluded to the restaurant's expense.
"I assume you have my table available Bella?" Kito inquired blankly. An aggressive nod was the owner's response. Knowing Kito's preference for silence, the mistress of the Uprising Diner quietly escorted the group inside. Emerald chandeliers littered the ceiling in a similar fashion the velvet carpet adorned the walking paths of the restaurant. The subtle smell of herbs lofted about in the air alongside the pungent smell of perfumed noble ladies. In a few short moments, the group and Bella walked down a secluded hall to arrived at a golden door with the letters, "V I P" engraved in the middle.
"Your usual will arrive shortly," Bella stated as she opened the door to allow Kito and her peers to walk through. With a curtsy, the owner of the Uprising Diner saw herself out.

​

The V I P room possessed a similar aesthetic to the main dining area of the Uprising Diner. White walls with gold trimming and marble floors. However, unlike the rest of the Diner, the tableware within the VIP section was gold rather than silver. In addition, the cups were goblets with emeralds embedded in the foot. To further diversify the two eating areas, roses were used to decorate rather than greenery. In the center of the moderately sized room stood a circular dining table with several green cushioned chairs. Kito had truly treated her comrades. Soon after the owner's dismissal, the team was seated and ready to be served. On queue, the waiters from outside poured the group's goblets to the brim with expensive red wine. With a snap from Kito, three maids rushed in with platters covered with miniature plates filled with a variety of food. With a small bow, the waitresses immediately began placing the samples on the circular table before scurrying away alongside the waiters.

​

"Sample what piques your interest, order what you like."

​

 

[x_Tasia_X]

Ｎｉｎａ Ｓｉｍｏｎｅ Ｒｅａｖｅｒｗｏｏｄ
Ｂｌｏｏｄ Ｅｎｃｈａｎｔｒｅｓｓ


Nina’s gaze landed on Rowan, he was directly speaking to her, after all. Even though she didn’t really like what he was saying, it would be rude to not listen. She decided she was quite sick of being coddled like a child and spoke up again. “Rest assured, I’ve lived with Ada’s blessing for most of my life and I know my limits. I, however, am truly touched by your concern. People as considerate as you are rare among slayers.” Flattery and sympathy ought to do it. She looked at Kito and Rowan earnestly. It wasn’t how she fully felt of course, but it wasn’t a complete lie. Just a half truth to appease them and get the subject to change.

It seemed that worked out, since Imani’s chosen, Orsan, spoke next. He hesitantly questioned the likelihood of their survival, even asking an unanswered warmup question beforehand. Nina pondered on it for a moment, she came to the conclusion that she wouldn’t mind dying. If it were for a good cause, then she wouldn’t have anything to complain about. Death was a part of life, and there was no escaping it, plus- her life wasn’t much fun to begin with. She wouldn’t waste her time fearing something like that, there were much more terrifying things out there. Nina still listened though, in case she missed something important. Kito’s answer was honest and to the point, she appreciated that. There was no harm in admitting that she didn’t know. And Nina didn’t mind the answer either, or the silence that followed it. She just leaned her head back and watched the wall of the carriage as time passed.

•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•^•

Nina raised her head when the carriage came to a stop. It hadn’t been long. She wished it was a bit longer, that way she’d have more time to think of an excuse as to why she didn’t want to eat in front of these strangers. No offense to them of course but she hated eating in front of others. It left her too vulnerable. She could be snuck up on when she ate, or poisoned. She’d much rather get something and save it for later. The problem was that she was kind of embarrassed about it, she’d rather just lie, she didn’t want her comrades to think she was being dramatic. Or that she didn’t like them. Nina pressed her lips into a line as she exited the carriage after Kito and followed the escort into the diner. It was the least humble “humble” diner she’d ever seen. She felt guilty for even stepping into this place for some reason.

Nina was immediately bothered by the clash of perfumed scents that hit her nose. Her eyebrows furrowing at the strong scent, she had to manually stop herself from covering her nose. Oh Ada, they were going to dine in here? Nina forced herself to look around the vip room, trying to distract herself from the smells of perfume by examining the decor. It didn’t work completely but it was something. Nina watched where Kito sat and went to sit to her left. She immediately started fiddling with silverware and aimlessly looking around. Even when Kito snapped her fingers and some maids scurried to bring them food. Nina’s eyes widened and her cheeks reddened a bit. Not that you could easily tell thanks to her brown skin. Oh- oh wow okay- What a commanding presence. That made Nina feel some type of way. She had to stare at the table to recover from how cool Kito was. And to hide her expression.

Maybe if she stayed like this no one would notice the effect powerful women had on her, and they would forget that she hadn’t picked anything to eat.

 

[Impius]

Rowan O'Daly Uprising Diner ​

Nina's comment didnt put Rowan at ease about the willingness to gift her life source. He bowed his head in defeat, as she seemed to be a stubborn one. Words would not sway her. Actions, perhaps. "You know your limits better than anyone here, Nina," he let his voice grow tender when he spoke to her with these next words. Ada blessed or not, life is limited."

Rowan turned his attention to the talk of death, sparked by their man of shadows. The inquire of chances seemed to be a silly thing to the bowman, but for Osran, the man had been looking troubled by something before asking. Perhaps he had someone that relied on him. From the looks of the group, they've all breathed the same air as the reaper a time or more. Always making assumptions, Roo, his mothers voice rang through his head like church bell at high noon. As direct and formal as Kito's answer was, Rowan was a little displeased with it, despite agreeing with her statement completely.

He had seen men peacefully moving about their life destroyed in less than a seconds time. Then there were the men who thought they drew their last breath wake up again. Life was unpredictable, anything could happen at anytime. Breathe it likes it's the last.

Rowan shrugged after his mini speech to himself. Probably biased. A designed flaw in his personality. He remained quiet for the rest of the ride, there wa no need to make input with this topic as it can be touchy to some.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡​

The carriage arriving brought great relief to Rowans bustling mind. It wasn't that he had questions or worries, he was perpetually distracted by everything. The chandelier had been sparkling out of the corners of his eyes as it swayed back and forth during the ride, bringing his bird brained attention to it constantly. The intricate details of craftmanship that went into making the enchanted carriage and the furniture within. Hell, even the snacks were on par as he had killed one of his pockets of jerky.

He removed himself from the carriage and stretched out, his arms reaching as far as they could over his heads, pushing himself up onto his toe tips. Anyone standing near him could hear several pops come from several areas of his body. Boy, was age creeping up. His attention was drawn away from his aching knee by the sound of metals clinking together. Not the beautiful sound of coin, but an over excessive amount of-- ah yes there it was.

A woman was rushing out of the held doors as they were piling out one by one. A type of woman that never knew hunger or true pain. Not that it mattered at a place like this. She continued to attempt to flatter the unmoving boulder known as Kito. Rowan was impressed by her lack of acknowledgment toward the womans faux personality. He despised people of her kind, mostly for their lack of empathy and morality. Most of them, anyway.

His eyes narrowed slightly and a jesters smirk crept across his face. He looked like a child about to do something he knew he wasn't supposed to do. How he hated the over compensation of accessories and clothing. "Ah, I see, a woman of extraordinary posessions." She seemed to be flattered at first by his cooled commentary. "A woman who knows naught the true value of what she has." Rowan swore he could see fire behind her eyes as she looked directly at him before escorting them in.

Walking through the main diner was impressive, Rowans mouth was watering and his stomach rumbled from the aromatic smells wafting around the air. He could smell and see all the sizzling steaks that just came out the doors, potatoes baked and loaded with goods, the fillets of fish, the chicken and soups, even the salads looked appealing. His mind felt dizzy with choice. Hiw would he pick from a menu that had so many delicious options!? The thought stressed hin out slightly. There wouldn't be another time he could eat like this again and he wanted to try everything.

He mindlessly followed to the secluded V.I.P room that Kito had inquired about when they arrived. It was much quieter then the rest of the diner, as one would hope. As he passed by Bella who held the door for the group, he felt her piercing gaze stab into his soul when he walked by accompanied with a muttered insult. He ignored it, as she had the right to make such commentary toward him as he did to her in his eyes.

He took his seat beside Azyra and fiddled with the gold silverware. Lifting up a fork and inspecting it, he flicked. a finger off one of the prongs and scrunched his face at it. A bit much with such precious metals as utensiles. He was expecting nice, but not this nice. He almost felt bad for being in the room, seated with a dinnerware that cost more than he paid for his home. He was a simple man with simple desires.

The aromatic smell of food tore his guilt from its roots. Options were displayed before the team. Options. So many options. Kito informed them that they were to be sampled. The things he passed in the main lobby were displayed before him. He perked up in his chair and started to grab a little bit of everything. By the time he grabbed the last piece, his plate was full and no one had even ordered yet.

As he had desired, Rowan tried everythibg presented before them. Not a single sample left behind. It would not suit his behaviour today he actually sampled the food as he simple took a bite chewed, prepared the next bite, swallowed, repeat. If the man breathed during his focused session or not was questionable as he didnt stop until there was nothing left. He sat back for a moment and decided upon his order, getting himself a lemon glazed salmon dinner.

Curiously he looked around to see what everyone else was trying as he would like to inquire what they thought of the things they tried, he noticed Nina had an empty plate. "Stage freight? I promise it's not poisoned or anything, I ate it all and I'm fine!" He chuckled a little. "Cant expect to give much blood when you have an empty stomach, can ya?" He smiled warmly and sipped on his fancy goblet of wine.

 

[Mineczka]

Azyra Constanza "The Cerulean Lancer"

Freedom!

Hearing once more of Nina's blood, Azyra still could not shake her distress, the sinking feeling that this woman, whose biggest responsibility was the health of her companions, would bleed dry long before any of Azyra's wounds were healed bothered her. She had to tell her, before something happens, and Nina is brought to the edge of death because of Azyra's fear. Though her mind shifted to Osran, who asked of their chances of survival in this endeavor, as, it was a bit of a tall ask for the five of them, one would think a small army would just barely be enough, though, from her reputation alone with Kito's, one could almost consider the Cerulean Lancer and Wolf Slayer a small army alone, especially so with Kito's remarks of what she had slain, which prompted a response from Azyra, "I cannot say I'm quite what Lady Burgundy is, as my recorded hunts are not of importance, however, so long as I stand, no foe shall get past my shield." Ending her words, was Kito's of what they could do both alone and together, which, in Azyra's mind, the party was rather well-balanced.

However, there was some discourse internally, minus her travel sickness, from Kito's words, how many times had Azyra done her best, and everyone else preformed flawlessly, only for their plan to fail miserably? For someone to die for no reason other than one of the gods had decided to take the blood of another? It brought Azyra back to the same question she had so many years ago, why did Myera save her, while letting her parents die? Kito's words of confidence didn't sit too well for Azyra, and while she wouldn't show the discontent, nor the pain of wounds that have long since faded, she was the shield for the team in question, and as such, she wasn't going to let anyone die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Eventually, the hellish contraption called a carriage had stopped, followed by the door opening with Kito exiting first, talking to one of the many waiters that were nearby, soon after, Nina followed, and Azyra came after, she wanted out of that torture device as fast as her legs could carry her, following Kito, was Nina, and after her, was Rowan. Escaping the hell that was the carriage. Followed with the sound of the metal of her armour clashing against itself, Azyra felt bombarded by the perfumes and scents, let alone the eyes cast upon her it was like the world had set it's gaze upon not only Azyra, but each of the slayers present, was this what Kito felt on a daily basis? This pressure to perform to intense standards as the heir to the Burgundy house?

Sitting on Kito's right, Azyra looked to all the food that was presented, "Damned bourgeoise...." Came across her mind at the sight of some of the patrons and servers, the amount of wealth on display annoyed Azyra who, had many a sleepless night from hunger, while the people here had seldom known the suffering. That didn't add in the sickening amount of food presented, so much waste, paired with the gaudiness of the place, Azyra could even sense how fake the damned maid that addressed Kito was, and that was long before noticing the goddamned silverware being gold, which would only feed her disgust more.

As the plates of food were brought to the table, Azyra waited a moment, letting those in front of her get what they wanted, of course, Rowan to Azyra's right began to help himself, whilist Nina seemed to be hesitant of eating, of course, Rowan commented about her blood, eventually Azyra stood, she needed a moment to gather herself, she could feel it coming, "I'll be outside for a moment..." She mentioned, before whispering to Nina gently as she passed by, "If you are not comfortable, feel free to join me outside." After which, Azyra soon exited for the moment, stepping outside Azyra turned around the corner of the building, wanting to be out of sight as her body began to slowly writhe, the pain of her curse had come after a relatively quiet day, originating from the mark which slowly crept it's way across her skin. Leaning against the wall, Azyra tried to control her breathing, a vain attempt at regaining control of her own body, sliding down the wall into a more fetal-like position, she tried putting pressure on the curse, another vain attempt, as the agonizing pain spread from her side to across her body, everything hurt, and she could do naught to control it.... Such is life for the Cerulean Lancer...

 

[sophocles]

LOCATION: From Kito's Carriage to the Uprising Diner

MOOD: s t r e s s e d

INTERACTIONS:

osran gyves

health

The Wolf Slayer removed her orange-tinted optics before she spoke to him, taking Osran by complete surprise. As her eyes narrowed, his eye widened. Their irises, of similar hue, met from across the carriage— though the honey dripping from his eyes was nothing compared to the fire burning behind hers.

Osran froze in his place. He wanted so desperately to tear his gaze away from her, yet he felt so trapped. Cornered by the fire in her eyes, he felt as if she was burning a hole right through him. He could barely register the words springing from her lips as he tried to stop his hands from shaking. He tried so hard to not turn away as every fiber of his being begged him to.

"...the Forest is a different beast."

He couldn't do it— he could not return her gaze. He managed to give her a small nod before having to drop his gaze to the floor in front of her. He could still feel his eyes on him— in fact, the entire party bounced their gazes between the pair.

He could not understand why— why did he feel the need to return her gaze? He knew better than anyone that keeping eye contact with others had never been his strong suit, turning almost impossible in recent years. She had caught him off-guard— a position that he rarely found himself in. He never allowed himself to have the lower hand— was it an attempt to prove something? To her, or to himself? Whatever he had been trying to prove, he failed— yet another nail in the coffin of his pride. The pride that blinded him to understand the insanity of what had just happened.

He remained motionless as the Wolf Slayer continued her speech, assuring the party of her own abilities and reminding them of their own. He didn't look up when the Winged One offered her own promises. He kept his head down, managing to mutter a soft murmur of agreement and support when all was finished.

Ultimately— Osran was unsatisfied. The Wolf Slayer's answer was not what he hoped to hear. Yet, he knew he would never hear what he wanted to— no one in their right mind would crave the answer that he did. Though, she seemed like she had been honest with him. He could grant her respect for that much alone. Many would turn to speeches filled with rank positivity— lies that even the youngest of slayers could see through. She chose to remain candid— though it seemed like she believed that together, they could all survive.

Well, he couldn't help but hope she was wrong— not for their sake, but for his.

His question answered, he settled into silence for the remainder of the ride.

—————————————————————————

The last to step out of the carriage, ducking once again to avoid hitting his head, Osran narrowed his eye at the establishment before him. It reeked of wealth— a stench he was once well-accustomed with. It didn't disgust him as much as he thought it would, but only reminded him of how close he had come to living a life such as this.

He stood at the back of the party, closest to the carriage, his muscled arms crossed against his bare chest. He narrowed his eyes at the sound of fabric rustling as a woman hurried out the doors of the diner, her chiffon dress gathered in her hands. She paused to stand before them, bowing so deep that he believed she would topple over, eager to garner the favor of the Wolf Slayer. The warrior seemed to have none of it, earning herself a snort and an amused smirk from him. To the Bowman's targeted quip, an eye roll was granted,

At the Wolf Slayer's behest, the woman ushered them inside the wooden double doors. He followed last, even now taking his place as instructed, keeping his senses on alert. As they made their way through the dining area, he would catch small segments of conversation— though none of it was worth anything to him. It was talk of business and gossip— concepts he cared not for.

The woman led the party to a well-dressed room in the back before seeing herself out. The Wolf Slayer sat in the chair closest to the door, the Little Fae and the Winged One took a seat on each side, while the Bowman was quick to snatch a seat next to the Angel. Osran paused in the doorway; he did not have a wish to be seated next to either of the two. He would rather occupy a wall or a corner to himself— but even he could not bring himself to do such a thing. His meal was being paid for; he owed it enough to the Wolf Slayer to sit at her table— though he would make his own rules to do so.

He strode into the room, past the Winged One and the Bowman, all the way around the table, sitting directly across from the Wolf Slayer and placing an empty chair on either side of him. Enough space between him and his comrades for his own comfort and an eye keeping watch on the door.

Now, for business—

He needed a drink. Desperately. Alcohol was at the forefront of his mind, eager for an attempt to rid him of his thoughts. He did not have to look far, however, as a waiter hurried to fill his bejeweled goblet with red wine at the moment he took a seat at the table. Osran gingerly picked up the golden cup and raised it towards his lips, as if to take a hesitant sip—

The waiter looked absolutely bewildered as Osran chose instead to swiftly knock back his goblet, draining every drop of wine within seconds. After a stunned pause, he nervously attempted to refill the goblet, but Osran raised his hand to stop him.

"Leave the bottle, and bring another."

The waiter nodded nervously, placing the wine bottle in front of Osran before backing away.

Upon downing another glass, Osran began to pick at the food that was set before him— at least, whatever he could manage to get to. He glared in no particular direction when denied a sampling of a dish due to it being devoured by no one specific. Luckily for the Bowman, Osran was more interested in his drink, and settled for the one dish he happened to get his hands on— the roasted salamander. He had never been a big fan of the act of eating meat, but reptilian tasted better than mammal.

Having calmed his nerves with the presence of alcohol in his system, Osran found himself observing his comrades' behavior. The Bowman seemed to be, once again, in his element, much to Osran's chagrin. Yet, the etiquette of the act seemed lost on him. The Bowman took to his meals as Osran took to his drink— so perhaps he could not judge the man so harshly. He wanted to, though.

The Little Fae seemed nervous, choosing to take interest in the silverware than the food set in front of her. Osran tried not to read too much into that— he had no more need for intrusive thoughts. That's what the wine was meant to hide.

Before he could move his attention to the Winged One, she stood and offered an excuse to leave the table. His ears caught on to what she whispered to the Little Fae before exiting the room, though they were nothing more than words of reassurance to the uncomfortable girl. His gaze followed her out, losing her among the shadows of the crowd as the door swung closed behind her. He stood by his previous judgment— there was something about her that she refused to let on. He felt his unease about the situation dissipate, however, with yet another glass of the red.

Taking a deep breath, he settled into his food and his drink quietly, waiting to see what the Wolf Slayer had to say.

code by valen t.

 

[Heavenchi]

The slums surrounding Gento were depressing as ever. Homeless lied on the muddy pathways, hands weakly reaching out for help as prositutes whistled for attention. Feral mutts could be heard growling hungrily at passerbies but to weak to attack. Despite this, someone moved quite eagerly through these conditions. A lanky man cloaked in black could be seen scurrying throughout the poorly kept roads of the slums. A trail of flyers followed him. The Burgundy Request. A hole in the wall was this man's final destination. With three knocks an enchantment was lifted and a door appeared. With a nervous glance, the cloaked figure entered.

"What'd ya bring me?" inquired a bulky masked figure in the room the magic door led to. With a shaky hand, the cloaked figure handed the seated peer a flyer.
Emerald-colored eyes glared down at the expensive paper, what was so special about a House Request? It was only after he took the flyer and read its contents did his frown disipate.

"I've gotta tell the Shadows," murmured the masked figured as he flipped the paper repeatedly, hoping its contents would change. With a huff, the masked fellow tossed silver and bronze coins at the frightened man in front of him.

"Go, I've got fish bigger than me to invite." ​

 

[Heavenchi]

Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."

Kito sipped on her wine quietly as she gazed blatantly at her peers. Osran and Rowan seemed to be the only ones satiated by the diner. A small smile formed at the gluttonous sight. Half the samples were reduced to nothing and Osran had already transformed an entire bottle to memory. Sadly, the same demeanor wasn't present amongst the ladies. The fae to Kito's right seemed smaller than she already was, nervous. The mer in the group made a light-hearted comment to encourage Nina's sampling but to no effect. Kito felt inclined to join in on the coaxing but thought better of it. "I don't want her to feel cornered."

A moment later, Azyra stood up and whispered in the fae's ear. Kito squinted at the interaction, a tad annoyed she couldn't access what was said. Keeping her eyes on the exiting Angel, Kito huffed.

"If my hospitality is not to your standards I sincerely apologize," Kito announced with a frown. She didn't mean to insult anyone, perhaps she should've done more. Next time Kito would be sure to hire jesters who swallowed swords and whatnot. It was foolish not to go all out on the first meal. What kind of hostess was she? With a snap of her fingers, another maid presented herself to Kito.

"Add them to my tab, treat them as if they held my name," Kito muttered half-heartily. It was the least she could do for displeasing them with such subpar dining. Next time Kito would do better, she had to. The maid scurried out to inform the owner with a nod before another returned with Kito's usual. Bread and chicken broth to dip it in. On the side, a tall glass of water and two chocolate chip cookies. A surprisingly simple order for such an extravagant establishment.

With one last gaze towards the remaining three, Kito looked down and began to eat her fill. She had nothing more to say.



✏ Monotone, Kito is deep in thought.
Guilty, Kito is embarrassed she didn't show her appreciation thoroughly.​

 

[x_Tasia_X]

Ｎｉｎａ Ｓｉｍｏｎｅ Ｒｅａｖｅｒｗｏｏｄ
“Ｂｌｏｏｄ Ｅｎｃｈａｎｔｒｅｓｓ”


Nina was only pulled from her staring contest with the table when Rowan spoke to her. She looked up at him, surprised that she was being spoken to again. Nina smiled a little, averting her gaze. He was being kind and it was making her nervous. She could tell that he was sincere- or that he at least had good intentions. Rowan’s expression was warm. It made her feel bad for being the way she was, and she looked guilty when she smiled. She was pretty sure everyone at this table were worthy individuals, the gods pick their blessed well. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do something as simple and easy as eating in front of them. Regrettably, she gave Rowan no other response.

Her savior came in the form of Azyra, who quietly invited her to join her outside. Her expression shifted to something unrecognizable as she nodded and stood up to follow Azyra. She glanced back at the group at the table before looking wearily at Azyra. Why… were they being so nice to her? They should be annoyed with her stubbornness, ungratefulness or the inconveniences she’s causing. She didn’t understand and it made her feel on edge. Atleast with Markus, him caring for her was an obligation, as her blood and sincere edge had saved his life when they were children. These people owed her nothing and they could easily overpower her and steal her blood. What would they have to gain from treating her like this? It was genuinely perplexing to the fae, and it left her on edge.

Nina’s attention left her thoughts as she watched Azyra turn a corner, leaving the sight of people passing by. She hesitated, Nina hated when people saw when she was upset or overwhelmed. That’s why she would hide when she felt. And she would hate for someone to casually walk in on her breaking down. Nina guessed that Azyra was in a similar state by the shaky attempts and slow breathing and the sound of metal armor sliding down the wall. Nina wanted to check on her without letting her know that she could tell she was struggling. Just play dumb

“Hey Azyra- what are you doing down there? Was the carriage ride that bad? I could tell you were a bit motion sick.” She gave Azyra a premise excuse- a way out, so that she didn’t have to admit whatever was actually bothering her to Nina. Nina didn’t want to force someone to open up to her by walking in on a vulnerable moment. She wanted the truth to come out because Azyra actually trusted her with it.

 

[Impius]

Rowan O'Daly Uprising Diner ​

The Bowman was completely oblivious to the discomfort he had brought to the table for the two women, perhaps the others. Much to his disappointment, Azyra excused herself from the table almost as quickly as she had arrived to it. Her pause to whisper some secret words into Nina's ear received a questioning eyebrow raising his forehead. Grease from the various meats dirties his face around the mouth and chin as his eyes followed the blue shield maiden out the door. Was it something he had said? Was he too loud? Perhaps he shouldn't have eaten so many of the samples.

Questions and self doubt swirled around his head like a storm, increase to the force of a hurricane once Nina excused herself after Azyra. What was said? Did they already know each other? He glanced over at their Man in the Shadows and saw that he was finding comfort in those thick glass bottles. Perhaps that was a good idea. A passing waiter was stopped by Rowan and he requested the cheapest beer they had on the menu. In his eyes, the cheap ones got the job done more efficiently. The next morning might be worse but what a night he could have!

With food ordered, and only two team members remaining at the table with the Bowman, he to found some solace in the cold golden brew. "This meal has been more than satisfactory, Kito. You have done good." For now it seemed the table would be silent. If there was anything to discuss with their upcoming quest, it would have to wait for Nina and Azyra.

Anxiety quietly began to creep up on Rowan as he sat in the silence. With nothing being said and two of their team members having dismissed themselves, he felt a little uneasy for once. A thousand different explanations stormed across his mind like an army. His leg bounced underneath the table and his finger silently tapped on the side of the glass mug, a small rounded spot clearing the mug of condensation from where he tapped. Silence was never his strong point.

"I 'spose that with the girls gone, we aught to wait to discuss anything in regards to our mission? Rowan had directed the question toward Kito but it was open for input from Osren, as he had glanced at the dou when speaking. "In that case, why not get to know another a little more, ya?" A small smile touched his thin lips. "This goes for both of y'all. Say you were given a well made weapon. The craftsmanship is top tier. This is the weapon that will solve all your problems. However it's cursed, and every time it touches blood or is used against a living creature, the weapons screams. Would you keep the weapon?" Pointless small talk for now will do.

 

[Mineczka]

Azyra Constanza The Cerulean Lancer

Agony. The best word to describe the searing pain in which Azyra had felt in that moment, the world was dulled out by the sound of her own heartbeat it wasn't uncommon for her to face this, though it nary prepared her mentally, or physically for that matter, of the ordeal. As her vision blackened to but a single small focused section of her vision hiding her eyes from any onlookers with her helmet, she was unaware the small flashes of gold in her normally emerald eyes, but that was beyond what she even so much as cared about at this point, first thing's first, came the pain she felt. It was a stabbing pain, as if one took one of her spears with a odd-shaped head to her side at a full gallop on horseback... Before twisting the spear violently. Making matters worse was the fact that, while the epicenter was her left side, the pain spread down her legs, and through her arms down to her fingertips.

Keeping her right arm crossing her abdomen, hand clenching her side, Azyra's left wandered to a pouch on her belt, popping the metal button open, her fingers rustled for a small vial, containing a small liquid, appearing almost green in colour, seeming to match with her hair. With a shaky hand, Azyra attempted to get the cork from the lip, however, something cut through the ringing heartbeat in her ears, a voice sounding with concern, and a familiar one at that. In her agony, Azyra hadn't heard Nina approach, ah yes, the Fae of her new party, had joined the Angel at her weakest moment, yet her voice cut through the pain akin to a heated blade through butter.

“Hey Azyra- what are you doing down there? Was the carriage ride that bad? I could tell you were a bit motion sick.”

Having not known Azyra long, nor of her curse, it was not abnormal for her to think it was Azyra's travel sickness, while that hell had subsided, it was a new one that came over the spearmaster. Working the cork, Azyra shook her head, gritting her teeth hard as she didn't want to show the pain she felt made it hard to talk, and that was even if she was going to talk about her issues with a stranger like Nina... Though it was fair for at least Nina to know, a few seconds later, a small pop could be heard, the cork was gone. Taking the vial to her lips, Azyra quickly drank the near insignificant liquid in it, while potions that healed her were ineffective due in part to their magic, herbal remedies that reduced pain did wonders, though it oft took a small bit of time to take effect.

A few moments passed, as the pain slowly ebbed away from either the medicine involved, or Azyra's own mind forcing it down in front of others, she wasn't sure, nor was Azyra going to complain. Taking a rattled, harsh breath, she at least attempted to respond to Nina coherently, "Do not fret... It's just an old wound..." A half-confident smile took over the woman, who hadn't opened her eyes, unaware Nina might not be able to see it, "It gets agitated when I rest after a day's work, especially when I start to relax." While she hated the fact she was doing this, Azyra wanted to keep her curse hidden, and had to lie to do so at this point, even if it meant a poor one at that... All to keep her deep dark secret under control, as few wished to be near someone who had the same energies as the monsters that killed them...

 

[sophocles]

LOCATION: The Uprising Diner

MOOD: Inebriated

INTERACTIONS: Impius

osran gyves

health

The Little Fae took her leave not long after the disappearance of the Winged One. Osran did not look up from his drink as she left the room, but his ears followed her footsteps as she disappeared into the thick of the dinery.

Two down. Three remain.

Osran may have been three-quarters into what was considered a strong bottle of wine— but that didn't mean he was any less observant. The Wolf Slayer seemed to take the absence of the woman to heart, half-heartedly offering her apologies for her lacking hospitality. Before muttering to the attending maid to put the two men on her tab (for which Osran silently thanked all the gods but one for), she silently took to her own simple meal.

The Bowman, newly re-christened as Loudfish for the lack of memory of his real name (a moniker that the inebriated Osran thought was much better suited), attempted to dissuade her from her thoughts with assurances about the quality of the meal. From across the table, Osran nodded and raised his half-full goblet in the air in agreement.

"I would be grateful for much less."

The silence returned, though Osran paid it no mind. He thrived in the sound of nothingness; though, to his sensitive hearing, there was no true sense of silence. Between the dull voices of the dinery behind the wooden doors and the sounds of the trio as they ate and drank, he could not truly leave the noise behind. However, he was always content in the silence of voices.

It seemed, however, that Loudfish was not as satisfied. Osran saw the smirk appear on the man's lips as he posed a hypothetical to pass the time. Staring disappointedly down the neck of an empty bottle, Osran only half-listened to Loudfish's proposal.

"...Would you keep the weapon?"

At the end of his speech, Osran peered at Loudfish from the corner of his eye, pouring himself another glass of wine with a newly-opened bottle.

Yes.

"No."

Not the first time Osran's mind and tongue disagreed with each other. His eyebrow furrowed in momentary confusion as he tried to figure which answer had left his mouth.

"The— noise wouldn't be worth the reward." The screams would drive him mad long before the blade would solve his problems

He decided to leave it at that. He hadn't expected himself to even give Loudfish an answer— but alcohol in his veins always made him more personable, at best. Hopefully, that was enough to appease the man— and not take a chance to pry into Osran any further.

code by valen t.

 

[Heavenchi]

Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."

Kito couldn't help but chuckle at Rowan's hypothetical. Such a scenario was absurd but admittedly intriguing. Osran's response didn't necessarily surprise Kito but his participation did. A nice surprise, she hoped he'd continue talking. With a glance at her peers, Kito decided to respond.

"I'd sacrifice my hearing for my goals," Kito started, ripping a piece of bread to dip into her soup.

"If I felt the screams getting to me, I'd destroy my eardrums," Kito elaborated before taking another mouthful of broth. Kito savored the flavors of her meal for a moment or two before speaking up again.

"Only because you said all my problems would be solved," Kito clarified, hoping the two understood the extreme resolution she'd choose. With a glance up, Kito noticed an emptying bottle and smiled. Tapping twice on the table, a maid scurried to appease Kito's request.

"Another bottle," Kito began softly before taking a look at Rowan's side of the table. A look of awe attempted to make its way to Kito's features but to no avail.

"Make that two," Kito ordered with a wave of dismissal. The waitress bowed and rushed to fulfill the order.

"If you can't finish them, just take them with us. I'm sure we'll be seeing things that'll encourage drinking," Kito uttered bitterly, a half-truth half-joke. Looking up once more Kito noticed a lack of food on the table. Taking one glance at the mer culprit, Kito knocked on the table twice. A signal for complete refills.

"While we wait for the other ladies in our party and seconds, can I inquire about everyone's backgrounds?" Kito asked politely before scrapping the remains of her soup out of the bowl.​

 

[x_Tasia_X]

Nina Simone Reaverwood

Nina smiled at Azyra, her gaze was as soft as she appeared. It was a wonder that Nina was a well known slayer. She looked like the type of person someone would want to shield from danger. Aside from the scars covering her body. Nina could tell that Azyra was hesitant about telling her whatever was causing her so much pain. But it was very obvious that it was motion sickness, maybe Azyra would think she was unintelligent for even suggesting that. But that was, partly, the point.

Nina listened as Azyra spoke though, she could tell a lot about a person based on if they played along with her lies. Her expression quickly became confused. She didn’t tell the truth, at least not the whole truth. But she didn’t go along with her excuse that she made. Why? It would have been much easier. She could start asking invasive questions about the ‘wound’. It was obviously some sort of metaphor, but she was pretending to be dumb enough to not understand that. So why lie if she wasn’t going to go for the one set up for her? Nina’s expression faltered.

Maybe Azyra just wasn’t a complete liar. Like Nina was. It was probably just a half truth. Nina pursed her lips a bit and glanced at Azyra, she smiled at the woman again and outstretched her hand. The least she could do was help her up.

“Well, you look like you feel a bit better now.” She commented, she did look better. She drank some sort of mixture. Nina couldn’t identify it at a first glance.

“Thank you for offering to let me come out here with you. I needed some fresh air.” Her smile widened, “You’re a considerate comrade.” She added. She must be observant too, she should make note of that. It was important to know the strengths and weaknesses of your teammates to work better with them.

coded by: s e v e n ​

​

 

[Mineczka]

Azyra Constanza The Cerulean Lancer

A small breath was taken... Azyra hated the idea that she was hiding so much from Nina, especially with the blessing she had, if Azyra was to be hurt, who knows what lengths Nina would go to even attempt to restore her. What would be enough for the woman clad in azure to finally speak of the suffering that she endures, what lengths was Azyra going to go to to keep that secret? It was something ever eating at her mind, edging it's way to her very thought, was it guilt? Or something more than that? Fear. That fear was what drove Azyra to hide her curse, though said fear was not of her own safety, but the rejection she could face, to be alone again, with only her thoughts, and the painful memories that remain of her once happy days... Calming herself down, she took Nina's hand gently, slowly rising to her feet, while the pain was lessened, it hadn't faded, as it crept across her skin, wrapping up her side with the tips of the searing pain reaching her collarbone... Good thing she was well clothed, as the last thing she wanted anyone to see was the streams of black over her body...

Keeping her hand over her left side, Azyra remarked gently at the comment that she looked better, "I'm not fully better, but can manage." A gentle smile slowly matched Nina's, as Nina seemed to take to the excuse she had made, whether or not she fully believed it was beyond the Shieldmaiden, nor was it fully her place to gauge and be skeptic of her ally. Both likely were hiding something from the other, however, Azyra wasn't one to pry from others... A moment of silence lingered before being broken by Nina's voice,

“Thank you for offering to let me come out here with you. I needed some fresh air.... You’re a considerate comrade.”

Whilist Nina spoke, her smile grew wider, it wasn't hard to read when someone was uncomfortable for her, as such, she was always one to invite them outside where the air feels less... Stiff. Stepping from the alley, Azyra hadn't noticed her eyes still had the flecks of gold amidst the emerald, a sign of the curse's influence, "I could sense that you were uncomfortable as we sat down" Azyra added, "And thought it best that we got some air." Keeping her gentle, yet faint smile, Azyra's eyes slowly rose to the skies, a little comforting tick she had, looking upon the Sea of Stars, finding the constellations upon the void, signs that she wasn't lost yet...

"Something that always aided me when I felt uncomfortable, was to look upon the skies, especially at night. Casting a gaze upon the Sea of Endless Stars..." A small laugh came from Azyra, breaking her words, she felt so childish thinking about this after what happened... "Counting the constellations and stars, whilist underneath their silent light, I'd lose myself in the skies, but seldom lose my place upon this earth..." Another small laugh came from Azyra, as her smile grew, the stories she could tell from the stars alone, almost forgetting the fact that a moment ago she was in agony, and focusing her eyes on the stars above, "It was once said, that the stars above are the souls of our ancestors watching down upon us in the darkest of night, guiding us home once more, and shielding us from what may come..." Catching herself, Azyra cleared her throat, covering her mouth for a moment, "My apologies, I might have gone on a bit of a tangent..."

 

[Impius]

Rowan O'Daly Uprising Diner ​

It seemed that the outlandish hypothetical was enough to stir up some interaction, to Rowan's pleasure. A celebratory sip of wine. Osran's answer had come to no surprise to the bowman. He seemed to be the type that would prefer a quieter setting then the one they even currently resided in. "That is a fair answer." Rowan looked to Kito as she gave her answer. "Every problem solved, indeed," a dumb smile danced on his alcoholic lips. Rowan leaned back in his chair, picking between his teeth with a bone from his plate. He re-ate the leftover morsel bits that came out from between his teeth.

Rowan paid no attention to the second bottle that was brought to the table for him, as the comment Kito made about needing it later rang in his ears. Surely he would need a couple of drinks for the first few nights to put the nerves at ease. Or to help make friends. His eyes darted were the Shadwoman sat. There was potential, possibly. Someone to share a bottle with, at least. Again his orbs were drawn to their fearless leader, Kito.

The woman, who he had not expected to be this reserved from the rumors that floated around the country. What had Rowan exactly expected of their Hero? A robust woman who pounded back beer mugs like a Northman and as equally loud? A stereotypical hero from childs stories? Here sat another human in a docile setting. Combat is where he will get to see the fire.

"I haven't had much of an interesting life, really." He popped the top off the newest bottle that had been brought to him, already abandoning his previous thought of his future self. He swished a mouthful of wine around his mouth and swallowed it, having emptied the glass in a single gulp.

"Now then. To start, I never knew my blood mother. She died while givin' birth to me. I would'ave had a sister too, but she never made it. My father resented me for their death. Let me tell you something; You cannot bring happiness to a man who accompanies misery and lives in a bottle. I lost his support the moment I was smart enough to beg the neighbor for food. Maybe he thought I'd just die off eventually...?" Rowan's eyes were gazing into a distant past as his lips spun his past into the air.

"Anyway, here I am, still. One of the women who lived in town ended up taking me in after she found me diggin through her neighbors trash and eatin on scraps. I owe my life to her. I owe her my understanding of love and compassion. Everything, really. In my eyes, she is the only mother I have. I took her last name as my own, she was an absolute angel from the heavens."

Rowans eyes flicked at the door their two comrades and scurried off through earlier. He wondered when they would return, as he was curious to know more about the people he would be spending a good amount of time with. Knowing their past woukd prove beneficial into weaving together their present state of self.


"It was after she died that I got my 'blessing'. I got washed away in a flood and drowned after I ran off. Noah had been present, I suppose, and took pity on me, saving my life. That's the same night I earned my limp as well. Broke my leg pretty bad. I took on an apprenticeship with a blacksmith. He taught me woodworking and basic metal work, but I got a little too crafty with the materials and got kicked out. Since I was officially on my own I honed my bow skills and began hunting monsters for money. Started out small and worked my way up to the bigger tiered monsters. Joined a guild and the-..."

The bowman's voice cracked and fell into silence. He held a fist up to his mouth and coughed to clear his throat, taking a drink of water.

"Sorry about that. The guild fell apart so to speak, and I moved on. Solo monster hunting. So there you have it. The run down of Rowan O'Daly's life. Simple, boring, and tramatic in its own ways. Perfect little story character, eh?"

More intoxicating fluid poured into his glass and quickly disappeared into his gullet. Rowan didn't care on getting into the rigerous details of his guild life despite how large of a role it played for him. He hadn't realized that the pain had still been there, a moment of weakness had shown itself and he would do better to keep it in check next time. Another swig, straight from the bottle. Eliminate a next time.

 

[sophocles]

LOCATION: The Uprising Diner

MOOD: Stressed, Saddened, Intoxicated.

INTERACTIONS: Impius , Heavenchi

osran gyves

health

"If you can't finish them, just take them with us."

An unfinished bottle of alcohol was unlikely for Osran. As the Wolf Slayer called for more wine to be brought to the table, he paused, mid-sip. His amber eye drifted down in front of him, where two bottles stood completely dry, and a third bottle had just been opened. A fourth bottle was produced moments after the request.

Well, perhaps, three bottles were enough. His limit was far from that in terms of wine (the weakest of alcohol, in his opinion), but that remaining fourth bottle may serve a greater purpose for his future. Given the distressing display seen in the carriage, it was obvious the man was going to need all the alcohol he could lay his hands on to survive just speaking to his comrades.

Of course, he had already spent the majority of his money on alcohol rations; much more than he spent on food and water combined. It was the waters of sin that he depended on for survival, after all. Yet, there would never be enough to calm his anxious mind, and an extra bottle could only set him at ease for the time ahead.

As another plate of roasted salamander was set in front of him, he drained his goblet and gingerly placed it to the side. It was an almost awkward motion, as if the goblet did not want to leave his hand; as if he did not want the goblet to leave his hand. He would have to make the remainder of the open bottle last (though that seemed almost impossible with the way the night was going). Besides, given that he could not remember the last time he had a full meal, another serving of food would be nothing but good for him to focus on.

However, before Osran could fully focus on his meal, their gracious host thought to inquire about their backgrounds. He froze, a slight panic setting into his features. He cast his gaze towards Loudfish in hopes that the man would take the bait.

"I haven't had much of an interesting life, really..."

Osran heaved a soft sigh and returned his attention to his meal. He chewed in silence, staring down at his food while lending an ear to listen to the tale of Loudfish.

He could feel a small knot form in his stomach as the man mentioned a sister who never made it into this world. His thoughts drifted to his own sisters, and—

No.

Gods, he could really use another drink right now.

Simple, boring, and traumatic, Loudfish said his story was. He had lived a darker life than Osran could have guessed. His demeanor did not suggest such, but perhaps that was a method of coping with the pain. He could understand that— though his own coping mechanisms greatly differed. To his immediate annoyance, he realized that he may have more in common with his comrade than he originally thought. The annoyance faded as the alcohol clouded his mind, however— perhaps, in Loudfish, he could find a companion. The man seemed to be able to hold his own in drink, as Osran noticed. Maybe drinking in sorrow together was better than drinking alone.

Osran scoffed to himself, throwing the thought to the back of his mind. That seemed very highly unlikely.

There was a rather long moment of silence between the three. Feeling that all eyes were now upon him, Osran swallowed, his throat already dry. He could never be as forthcoming as they would want him to; he couldn't, but he should give them something to gnaw on. He didn't raise his eye as he began to speak, taking short pauses in between to chew his food.

"Farm brat." Not necessarily false, but that wasn't the truth. Growing up on a vineyard with plenty of workers to tend the fields on their own made Osran as much of a farm brat as a king claimed to be a member of his people.

"When I was old enough, I made my choice to travel for Ada's Abode— my only purpose in life to slay the monsters of the worlds. To protect those who couldn't help themselves." Osran could help but chuckle, though there was no trace of cheer in his voice. It was as if he was making fun of the boy he was those long, eighteen years ago.

"Yet, in the end, those monsters took my arm, and my eye, and my fa—" He stopped himself from speaking any further. He couldn't; he wouldn't. The pain was still so fresh, even after all these years. A pain that he could never rid, lest he stoops so low as to forgive himself for what happened. It was a constant reminder of who he was and what he had become. Punishment for crimes he never committed.

"That was five years ago. Didn't get better. Doesn't get better. With no thanks, of course." He scoffed, his lips curled into a cruel, mirthless smile. He dropped his fork on his empty plate with a clatter, grabbing his goblet in one hand and the half-opened third bottle of wine in the other. So much for making it last the night— Osran easily poured about three-quarters of what remained into the goblet. He needed to drink to forget again.

He spoke too much. He remembered too much.

"Didn't stop me, however. Still slaying monsters, though the pay was never worth it. Until now." He raised his goblet in the direction of the Wolf Slayer, nodding in his head in respect towards the woman. In one swift motion, he relieved the goblet of its only duty and set it back on the table.

"What of the Wolf Slayer? Do the stories we hear carry truth?" While Osran was more than curious about the powerful woman who sat in front of him, he was more concerned in steering the topic of conversation away from himself. He knew he couldn't speak on it again. Alcohol had already loosened his lips more than he wanted, he wouldn't risk it again.

code by valen t.

 

[Heavenchi]

Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."

​

Kito listened in invisible awe as her new comrade spoke. Trials and tribulations created by fate had forged the Noah blessed into a soldier. Kito's heart pinched at the abuse Rowan spoke of, such a vibrant soul was placed in the care of a coward. Still, a blank expression was all Ktio provided throughout her comrade's tale. When Rowan mentioned Noah's pity, Kito nodded slowly. Such an interesting awakening, much different than her fatherly interaction with Barren.

Realizing Rowan was intent on explaining himself thoroughly, Kito settled further into her seat, eyes set on the Noah blessed. Fiery eyes examined the emotion Rowan depicted through his tale in an attempt to solve Kito's dilemma on how to react. Emotional intelligence was a smart Kito pitifully lacked.

It was when Rowan mentioned a guild did Kito's eyes widen in curiosity. Being a part of the Burgundy family meant connections, Kito was sure she'd recognize a smidge of the Hero's tale. Unfortunately, he left it at that. Purposely avoiding details on that segment of his past. Kito let out a small sigh and smiled in return. Kito figured such secrecy was for a reason and kept silent.

Kito was intent on speaking last, to gauge how much information to divulge. Due to this, Kito's eyes moved from Rowan to Osran, raising a brow at the stifling silence that occurred after Rowan's story ended.

"Farm Brat."

Kito nodded in approval as Osran's story unfolded. Deciding to show engagement, Kito scooted in before perching her elbows on the table, fingers interlocked as she rested her chin atop. Her focus was apparent. Hearing Osran's reason for becoming a slayer made Kito's cheeks heat up. Such a noble motivation made her resolve feel petty. Osran's reveal that monsters took limb and love from him pulled Kito from her thoughts. Similar to Rowan, Osran experienced familial loss. Kito physically winced, she couldn't relate. What she could do was listen and sympathize.

Kito watched as Osran drank in conjunction with storytelling. His past was painful. What surprised Kito was Osran's mention of acknowledgment, specifically the lack thereof. His physique and patron alluded to power. What could be the reason she heard no tales of a one-eyed Imani blessed slayer? Kito decided to ponder later partially because of Osran's inquiry and praise. Her turn had finally arrived.

Kito leaned back into her chair, glancing between the two men in front of her. Deciding to follow the ritual of the two, Kito poured herself another glass of wine. With three large gulps, Kito finished and sighed heavily before speaking.

"Yes, but I won't lie and deny the fact my accomplishments have been glamorized for the sake of my lineage," Kito stated, glancing at Osran before shifting her eyes to Rowan. Nervousness halted Kito for a moment, but her desire to be transparent overcame Kito's nerves.

"As many know, I was once a Captain in the Zorro Army. Being a barren blessed from the Burgundy family, it was an easy feat," Kito confessed shamefully, focusing her gaze on her empty cup. Pulling it close, Kito traced her index finger along the rim. An attempt to soothe her mind for what she was about to reveal next.

"I was only eighteen at the time. Truthfully I didn't have the finesse of a more seasoned soldier but I had talent and connections and I thought that was enough," Kito paused to clear her throat, emotions swelling. She hadn't told this story in years.

"I was mistaken. I took the intel of my superiors to heart and prepared my scouting squad poorly," Kito's voice didn't waver but her eyes betrayed her. The warmth of her tears sickened Kito, weakness still prevailed within despite the passing of time. Kito silently wept for a moment, before continuing her tale once more.

"We were ambushed by a swarm of flying monstrosities before drawing the attention of corrupted wolves and bears," Kito spat bitterly before pouring herself another cup. This time, she only took a sip. Desperate to calm her heartache.

"I suppose I relate to you Rowan. Barren fueled me with such unbridled rage, when I awoke I was saved. However, my men can't say the same," Kito confessed bitterly, looking up at the Noah blessed with a tear-stained face. Kito looked towards the ceiling for a moment, entranced by the shine of the chandeliers. So similar to the gentle rays of the sun on that fateful day.

Coughing once more, Kito took off her lenses to wipe her face before placing them back on and continuing her story.

"Unlike you Osran, I don't seek to protect those who can't protect themselves. I simply slay because I'm good at it, and it's where I belong. It's what I deserve," Kito finished quietly, before closing her eyes and exhaling sharply. In an attempt to regain her composure, Kito pushed what was left of her glass away. Silently cursing the liquid truth serum of a wine. With a forced smile, Kito glanced up at the men before her.

"Well aren't we all battle seasoned?" Kito commented bitterly, a shameful attempt at a joke. Kito noted to leave joking to Rowan.

 

[x_Tasia_X]

Nina Simone Reaverwood

Nina pressed her lips together into a line. Azyra was kind. She saw that Nina was uncomfortable and offered her some time outside. It was so simple for her to explain and it was easy for her to do. Because she was a good person. Azyra probably didn’t weigh the benefits and consequences of helping someone before doing it. It was admirable. Nina hoped she could genuinely be considerate like her with no hidden intentions.

Nina watched Azyra go on about looking to the stars for comfort. Nina’s smile fell as she studied the other woman’s expression. Nina hesitantly looked away from Azyra and turned her gaze to the sky as well. She spoke so eloquently about them. Nina smiled a little as she went on, enjoying her ramblings about the sky. It was nice to think that countless souls would be watching her and protecting her from above. Nina could see how that could be a comforting thought to someone.

Nina quickly glanced at Azyra, looking a little confused as she cut herself off. She gave Nina an unnecessary apology. Nina blinked.

“Don’t apologize, when we have more free time, I’d love to hear more about it. You could even point out different constellations to me. I’d love to learn more about the stars.” Nina offered with a small smile. She loved listening to people ramble, it was her favorite pastime. She liked watching people's expressions when they spoke about something they love. Whether it was the smallest crack of a smile as they looked off in the distance or watching them make excited hand motions as they told a story from long ago. It filled Nina with a genuine joy to see people happy because she was willing to listen.

Nina could almost imagine it now, Azyra wearing the gentlest smile as she pointed out constellations to her. Her face being illuminated by the moon as she spoke of the stories behind them. It would be a lovely sight.

coded by: s e v e n

 

[Mineczka]

Azyra constanza The Cerulean Lancer

She could go on for hours, rambling about the glory of the stars, of the sky, the one place that Azyra found as her secondary home. It was safe, to dance amongst the clouds, as, few things could touch her, and those that could get close enough, would be seen coming, and dealt with accordingly. Azyra knew that the skies represented more than what she could even quantify. Yet, despite this, she could feel the pressure, the elephant in the room.... Her Curse. How long was she to lie about it, especially to Nina, the one person whose biggest responsibility was to keep everyone alive. It had been eating at her since the carriage ride, she had to say something of it, especially at the display that she just had... Closing her eyes for a moment, Azyra slowly turned her head to Nina, locking her eyes to her newly made friend's, the faint smile Azyra carried had soon faded, she was serious for a moment,

"Nina, I do have a small... Confession. Something that has bothered me since the carriage..." Glancing away for a moment, Azyra needed a second to gather her thoughts again, "Should I.... Be injured, do not waste your blood to heal me. As, I'll tell you frankly, it wouldn't do much to help me. Akin to most magical means of healing, such as potions and the like." Azyra hated this, she hated that she was bringing up the curse, but, in the long run, it kept Nina safe, so she didn't bleed herself dry barely doing anything for Azyra. As her eyes dropped to the ground, her hand slowly reached for the bottom hem of her tunic, slowly bringing it, along with the chainmail, and gambeson up, revealing a deep black mark on her skin, akin to a fresh burn, if one ignores the faint chaotic energy that emanated from it, "This, is why. Why I can't be healed. Why I was in agony earlier. Why.... I'm so guarded of myself. Back when I was a fledgling slayer, I ran into a class S monster with my parents who were training me. While I lived, it had infused me with this curse, slowly corrupting my body with Chaos Energy."

Another breath escaped her lips, as Azyra slowly lowered her armour, letting out a small pained gasp as the pain came back for but a second as the weight of her armour hit the ever sensitive curse. As much as the fear of her secret being out persisted, Azyra couldn't keep it from Nina, at least she had to know what she was going to be dealing with as she was going to be adventuring with Azyra for quite some time, however, Azyra didn't want this secret getting into the wrong hands. The last thing she wanted was one of the major guilds hearing that someone possesses the same abilities as a monster, and go out of their way to find Azyra, and try to "help" her. The silence once again was broken by Azyra's voice, sounding slightly concerned,

"If you could, Nina.... Keep my curse between us... I..." Her words trailed off for a moment, as Azyra took another hasty breath, "I don't want anyone else to find out. It's something that.... Could be dangerous, if discovered..."

 

[sophocles]

LOCATION: The Uprising Diner

MOOD: Impressed

INTERACTIONS:

osran gyves

health

Osran listened in silence as the Wolf Slayer shared her story, picking at the remainder of his meal. He had heard tales of her escapades by eavesdropping on conversations at many a tavern. Slayers from all over sang praises of her victories and her powerful lineage. It was no lie that she had become a legend in such a short time. The stories had always made her seem invincible, so powerful. Untouchable.

So, to hear her speak of her own experiences was not what he had expected of her. The pain in her voice was so apparent, it almost hurt him to listen. She spoke of an early mission, from years ago. She was young— the age at which mistakes were all too easy to make. She had been a soldier untested, and her choices led to the deaths of her team.

He looked away awkwardly as he noticed the tears on her cheeks catch in the reflection of the light. He had never been good in handling his own emotions, much less the emotions of others.

There would be many who chose to overlook their early mistakes, even more who would look to something else for blame. Yet, here she sat before them, admitting to a great defeat in her life, taking responsibility for the lives lost.

As he watched her remove her glasses to dry her tear-stained face, Osran felt that maybe, in this moment, she was more deserving of his respect than from her reputation as a monster slayer or any of her victories on the battlefield.

A soldier who could take fault for the mistakes she made was a sign of growth in the makings of a good leader. However, to see if she could move past them was another thing all together.

Gods know he couldn’t.

He remained silent, knowing he could offer no words of comfort for events of her past. It was her guilt to live with. He knew from experience that nothing said could change that.

He watched as her countenance shifted back into the hardened warrior she had been only minutes prior.

Osran couldn't help but feel guilt at the Wolf Slayer's admission. That undying sense of purpose may have been true when he set out for Ada's Abode all those years ago. There was nothing noble about the life that he was currently living.

He was more like her than she could realize. Slaying monsters was the only thing he had left. It was the only thing he knew.

It was the only thing he was good at.

"Well, aren't we all battle seasoned?"

Osran scoffed at her words, the ghost of a smile upon his lips.

"The life of a slayer is not one to envy."

code by valen t.

 

[Impius]

Rowan O'Daly Uprising Diner ​

Green orbs flashed over toward Osran as he began his very short and undescriptive life story. Just as secretive and mysterious as the energy Rowan picked up from the Shadowed Man. Who was to blame him, really? Sitting a table with unfamiliar faces, unknowing of what the mission would bring, or if the person next to them could be trusted or not. Every word spoken at the table was taken in good faith. Rowan caught Osran cutting himself off, just has he himself had done only a moment ago. This sparked curiosity from the Bowman but he remained silent, returning the respect had been granted toward him.

When Osran had finished his story with slaying monsters, Rowan raised his glass toward him in a contactless cheers and gave a slight nod of his head, "To the only thing that puts coin in our purse." Both sets of eyes returned to the Wolf Slayer. The person of true interest at the table. How many stories have been told about her victories and adventures? Rowan could recall every one he had heard bits of paint a picture of someone that had become a legend.

As Kito's story unfolded, Rowan saw her less of the towering legend painted in the stories and more as just another person trying to get to forget previous perils. Some things, could never be forgotten as all three of them nearly demonstrated toward another. The men silent about their pat affairs while Kito, to Rowans notice, was more open to key details. The tears that ran out from underneath her specs brought a twinge of pain to his heart. He slipped his fingers around his drink and pulled it toward his lips again.He initially was to rest his hand over hers in a sense of condolences, but unsure of the motion, he instead had smoothly detoured himself of the action toward more liquid spirits. Rather smoothly for his intoxicated state, he mentally patted himself on the back.

"I understand your pain, Kito. Perhaps a little more then I've let on." His bright glassy orbs flashed back at Kito. Battle seasoned they all seemed to be indeed. "My body is the definition of seasoned," he chuckled at himself and munched on a roll that had somehow survived his ravenous appetite. "Anyone who envies the life of a Slayer lives in a world of fantasy. Much like the world built in her stories," Rowan notioned toward the Wolf Slayer. "All they know is the glorified fancy words. Never the toll it takes to achieve."

Once again his eyes flashed toward the cold empty seats that remained. Perhaps they had left? He wouldn't blame either of them for getting cold feet about the forthcoming mission. It was daunting and chances of every single one of them surviving seemed to be a faint hope. A part of him wanted to go in search but the idea seemed intrusive. It was none of his business anyway, yet the more people they had to help, the better off they were. Three against twenty acres of monsters? He waved the thoughts away. It was still too soon to jump to conclusions. Yet his eyes kept flicking over to the doors every so often.

 

[x_Tasia_X]

Nina Simone Reaverwood

Nina’s expression dimmed a bit as Azyra glanced away, to be honest. Nina didn’t want to hear whatever she was about to confess. In the moment Kito was looking away from her, a million thoughts raced through her mind, the loudest of which being, why? Azyra didn’t owe her any truth, and Nina did not ask. She didn’t want to not, she did not want the burden of the knowledge Azyra was going to place on her. From the shield maiden’s expression, it looked like a heavy one. Nina pressed her lips into a thin line. She wouldn’t interrupt Azyra. A selfish part of her was glad that she gained some trust with her, enough to share this burden with her. And the other part knew that Azyra was only telling her this out of necessity.

Nina’s expression seemed to drop more and more as Azyra kept speaking. The relatively positive mood in the air shifted with this revelation. It wasn’t true. Nina denied it in her mind because it didn’t make sense to her. Her blood can heal any wound, it’s never failed before. Ever. Even Ada reassured her that her blood was more potent than most other faes. This was Ada’s gift to her. This was all she had to offer the world, and it wouldn’t work on Azyra? That’s- not possible. Nina refused to believe it.

Nina’s expression was an unreadable mixture of fear, disgust, confusion, and disbelief. She stared at the ground with wide eyes and stayed silent. Find a solution before your thoughts pull you into too deep, Nina. That’s it; Azyra must have never been healed with Fae blood before. Potions and healing spells may not work, but her blood was different. Azyra was the honest sort, she wasn’t lying. Nina could tell from what she knew of her character so far and from the markings on her torso. But that didn’t mean she didn’t accidentally make a generalization. It’s probably unlikely that she has been healed by fae blood before.

Nina didn’t ask. In fear of getting an answer that she wouldn’t like. She would simply agree for now and confirm her hypothesis later. To avoid any real opposition from Azyra. With that, Nina seemed to relax a bit.

“I understand. Thank you for being honest with me, Azyra. I promise that this will stay between us. ” Nina smiled softly. Guilt tugged at her conscience. She felt bad for lying, but she can prove that it was worth it later. At Least the fact that this will stay between the two of them was the truth.

Mineczka

coded by: s e v e n

 

[Heavenchi]

Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."

Kito chuckled at the reactions of her comrades, maybe she did have a knack for jokes. Nodding at the sincere and bittersweet comments from the two, Kito followed Rowan's gaze to the empty seats beside her. Perhaps they fled with the few trinkets Kito had provided but past experience told Kito otherwise. Nina wasn't the rouge type, much too kind. Kito didn't know Azyra personally, but her noble demeanor assured Kito the shieldmaiden was a woman of her word.

"Your carriage was stocked with rations my lady," spoke a returning maid, head bowed. Kito nodded, waving her hand in dismissal. The group could move on, however, Kito desired to have a heartfelt with the other women in the group first. Glancing from Rowan to Osran, Kito cleared her throat.

"Let's give them another moment or two?" Kito questioned awkwardly, it wasn't really their decision, she was going to wait regardless. Deciding to keep the conversation going, Kito pointed her half-empty glass in the direction of the men.

"If you include the good amount of potions and tonics we've been supplied with, in addition to Nina blessing us with her presence, our health is in good hands," Kito speculated confidently before taking a swig from her glass.

"Although she hasn't admitted much, Azyra is a woman we can trust our blind spots to, her armor and weapon of choice make me believe she's the Cerulean Lancer," Kito commented nonchalantly, gulping the remains of her refill down. Mercenaries murmured tales of such a warrior, a woman shining in blue that held the frontline exactly where you wanted it. Although Kito knew better than to completely believe rumors, there was always some truth to find within.

 

[sophocles]

LOCATION: The Uprising Diner

MOOD: Regretful, Relaxed, Curious, Amused

INTERACTIONS: Heavenchi

osran gyves

health

Silence was quick to fall over the party as Loudfish's words echoed across the table. Osran took a moment to contemplate the man's words— the first wisdom to leave the his mouth since the party was established.

"Anyone who envies the life of a Slayer lives in a world of fantasy."

Oh, he knew this all too well. He had been that 'anyone' once.

He was once the young boy who believed in the propaganda of glory and honor, the young boy who wanted nothing more to achieve his own renown and be immortalized. A stupid, foolish young boy.

Of course, one might say that Osran was too hard on himself, that it was only the naivety of a child.

No, it was more than the gullibility that comes with young age. For years after his graduation, he has been that young man who believed that his "sacred duty" as a slayer would bring him good fortune; blessed karma for all his dutiful nature. A young man, blinded by his devotion, eager to please. He wished for no other life. He craved no other life. He could imagine himself in no other life. It was a life of honor that the young boy had dreamed of. It was his purpose.

Lies, lies. Nothing but lies.

All it had brought him was pain and suffering.

There was nothing to envy in the life of a slayer. He had learned that too late in life.

Switching his gaze between Loudfish and the Wolf Slayer, he could see the same exhaustion and torment in them that he felt in his bones. Despite differing blessings and backgrounds, all slayers were the same; bitter and broken, driven by obligation and the cursed knowledge that if they did not do their job, no one would.

Well, if all goes as planned, you won't have to worry about that burden anymore.

Osran gave a small smile at the thought, the smile of a bitter and broken man.

Their silence was broken as a serving girl entered the room. His gaze followed her as she bowed her head before the Wolf Slayer, informing her that the carriage was stocked with their rations.

Yes, yes, fantastic news, but did that include spirits? Wine? Ale? Liquors?

Osran fought the urge to open his mouth and ask; thankfully, the Wolf Slayer saved him from embarrassing himself.

"Let's give them another moment or two?"

He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. He assumed he had no choice in the matter, but he was in no hurry to leave. Given their mission, this could very well be one of his last nights to enjoy the warmth and finery of a tavern. His mind was purged of his earlier anxieties as the wine coursed through his veins. His senses were numbed, but not to the point of incoherence. The cacophony of voices behind the golden door was but like the buzz of insects against his ears.

He ignored the murmur of the crowd as the Wolf Slayer spoke of their absent comrades, adverting his eye at the mention of Nina's name. His thoughts of guilt were swiftly drowned by drink, pushing his desires to the deepest part of his mind.

They were replaced by those of curiosity, of the woman the Wolf Slayer named the Cerulean Lancer. Not a name of notability that Osran was familiar with, but that was of no fault of hers; he stopped listening to the stories of slayers a long time ago.

"Your confidence in us is— assuring." Osran offered the Wolf Slayer an amused smile. At least there was one in their company who believed in their chances; he couldn't be one of them, but he supposed he could admire the misplaced confidence.

code by valen t.