Fantasy Paradisia ✧ Another Tale (always accepting!)

[EccentricFantasy]

• Jason
• Syrlia

• 
  
  Jason Riley
  

  

  
  ​
  Jason was just watching the show. Simply enjoying himself and thinking on his own issuses as it were. Then, all of the suuden, a ghostly boy floated up to him. He was honestly very confused, but hadn't the heart to say anything. He merely listened with a clear look of confusion plastered to his face as the ghost or spirit person floated up to his eye level and spoke in a cryptic poetry. Before he could say anything the other had already floated down and left. Jason sat there, feeling manu things. Mostly confusion over that had just happened. After sonemplating whatever had just happened, he simply shook his head a bit and returned to watching the display.
  
  Mentions: ( spookie ) Mori
  
• 
  
  Syrlia Monarch
  

  
  
  Being stationary was not the same as being out of the loop. Syrlia was a prime example of that. Even sitting in the temple, she was more connected to everything than anybody else. Her butterflies scattered across the city. They had become a regular part of everyday life. People let them fly inside their houses, businesses and they filled the sky. To most people, seeing her butterflies was just part of life. However, they knew that watching through those butterflies, was a person who held sway over very powerful people. Syrlia was not one to ignore or make light of. A beacon of goodness in the city, preaching of the morals of piety, she was the High Priestess of Sabelina and as such, a cultural leader.
  
  Syrlia was walking from the temple towards the scene of the sad almost death of the royal guard captain. It wasn't the tragedy to most. As she understood it, the captain wasn't exactly a well-liked person. That being said, that still left no right for someone to attempt on his life.
  
  As she walked by, people of the Sabelina faith prostrated themselves. Some of them are offering water or other things such as gold or food. She never seemed to pay too much attention towards these offerings. Rather she made it known that all offerings were to be given directly to the temple. Still, people offered her things out of pure respect.
  
  Upon arriving at the site of the tragedy, she looked down at the scene, hands linked in front of her as she spoke "What a sad site this is. Taken before his time." She bowed her head for a prayer. After her prayer was done, she looked up and spoke sternly to Hermy and Mori "Both of you should be ashamed! Acting this way towards an injured man." She stepped forward, butterflies swarmed around her, no longer gracefully gliding, but in a maddened flurry of wings "Disrespect that man in my pressence again and I will personally hand out your punishment, am I understood?!" She stood there, her voice stern and body language firm, she was not playing around in the slightest. With her influence over fate and luck, who knew what could happen if she unleashed her wrath upon you.
  
  After a moment her gaze softened as her eyes turned to Ciel "Fear not sweet child. As an emissary to Sabel, I swear on my faith that I will do all in my power to keep this man alive." She then leaned over, offering her hand to Ciel "Pray with me for his survival?"
  
  Interactions: ( adropofdew- ) Hermy, ( spookie ) Mori and Ciel.
  

 

[Folly-Derrezzed]

The golem sensed the energy of white leaking from the body further into the crowd. It must have happened before his arrival. Or maybe during, as chaos had a habit of following him wherever he went. The hag stone around its neck glowed a faint cyan and floated in the direction of the body as if it was being magnetically tugged on. It moved between the people of the crowd flawlessly without pushing anyone out of the way and in turn not bringing attention it itself. Death is near and whatever strength they had could be taken before it was given to the earth. It viewed what is understood as a cesspool of negativity. Grief, indifference, anger, and fear. Something manifested within the core of the golem. A green feeling that made its gears churn and crank as if it was retching. The disrespect of the dying in this display of prodding and curiosity. He couldn't comprehend it. It made guttural warbling and firey snapping as it spoke, observing the processes. Someone was cradling the costumed body in his arms. It tilted its head empathetically, the hag stone around its neck falling slack against its chest. Nothing it could do now. It fell back into the recessed of the crowd then the darkness of the oncoming night. The wallowing of men and the panicking of familiar peoples seeped into the air and became foul.

 

[adropofdew-]

Hemry | interactions • spookie (Mori/Ciel) • EccentricFantasy (Syrlia)
mentioned • Glimmer​

To Hemry’s excitement, a crowd began to form. He was quite used to the attention, obviously, given the fact he was the number one entertainer among show-men. If Hemry dared to look, he was sure that sad looking plump man was in the crowd somewhere—yet again, jealous of the charisma that he so wished he had. He had to be careful. Last time he stole someone’s show, a freshly baked pie met his face; he could not help but laugh! Now, looking at the two figures hosting the magic display, the clown wondered if they would try to one-up him again. He gave them a warning glare—more specifically directed at the colorful looking man—though it probably wouldn’t be received given the fact that the crowd was in complete disarray.

When the dark haired boy suddenly joined the show, Hemry wasn’t sure what to think. He started poking the body as well, and even started giggling! What a strange child! He thought. Before he could say anything, yet another person joined the fray. This time, it seemed like a crying purple child of some strange species. The tears ran down his face and made the clown rather sad… and excited? He was a blubbering mess, but Hemry understood him.

“Oh, no. No, no, no! This will not do!” An idea popped into his head. He also hoped he could alleviate some of the anger emitting from that beautiful butterfly woman! Slowly, Hemry reached for the purple boy’s face. He touched each teardrop, and like magic, the tears turned into small but colorful pieces of paper that flowed in the air. “Woo!” he screamed, becoming his own fanfare. “Woooooooo!” The crowd around him gasped. He heard some chuckles here and there, but it was mostly gasps. He really wanted to make the sad boy happy now. “See?” he said to the butterfly lady, voice cracking into a sob. “I just want to make him happy!”

 

[spookie]

—✧ Mori (feat. Ciel)✧—

​

Mortals, Mori thought, were such messily chaotic creatures. All inevitably fated to die, be it after a thousand years or ten... and yet, and yet, they always had to make some great emotional display of it! So entirely strange.

Mori looked the approaching butterfly woman up and down with his usual blank expression, but did not stop prodding the lifeless body even as she commanded him to. Threats meant very little to the eerie boy, unless they were directed towards Mysteria or her livelihood. He could absolutely take care of himself, and he would do so without hesitation. Fighting butterflies, however, felt wrong to Mori as they quite resembled the moths that often trailed him around or rested in his hair, and so he decided any actions against the fluttering insects would be a last resort.

"He is not injured," Mori stated plainly, continuing to poke at the boy as he spoke, "he is caught in the veil between the two sides. Struggling, mostly dead, but perhaps not entirely. Do not fret however, he will cease holding on soon enough and succumb to his fate as a mortal. Mmm, they always do..."

The purple haired figure in the matching uniform provided ever more entertainment as he cradled his fallen comrade, and Mori giggled again. Once the clown turned Ciel's unending tears into colorful confetti however, he could not help but to slowly clap. "Amazing, amazing, oh, what a performance," Mori sighed dreamily, retiring his sword to better enjoy the show.

Ciel was having absolutely none of it, however. "Stop it, stop it! How dare you? I'll have you thrown in the dungeon for the rest of your sorry lives!" Sobbing more loudly than ever, he lowered his head to gaze upon his unmoving, beloved idol, before reaching desperately for Syrlia's hand and squeezing it as though it were the only thing keeping him grounded. "Please, oh please! Spare him, do whatever it takes!"

Whether he was begging Syrlia or the Goddess herself, no one could be quite sure. Against a backdrop of hushed whispers and the occasional snort of laugher however, Ciel's heartfelt yet hysterical pleas sounded so melodramatic they bordered on comical.

Mori of course found this quite entertaining, and looked in Hemry's direction to see if the clown might also be amused.

Interactions: adropofdew- (Hemry); EccentricFantasy (Syrlia)

 

[MsIvory]

“The price is too high!”

Illyana was perched lazily across a chaise lounge, her head resting in her palm, as she watched Lord something-or-other pace across his ornate rug, muttering under his breath. Quite a dilemma he was in - He had a few of his beloved paintings stolen a fortnight ago, and since the guards have made no progress, he has had to resort to hiring “the likes of her” to fetch them. Illyana would have found the situation amusing if she wasn’t so completely bored about the entire thing. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, the thief straightened, setting an untouched cup of tea she had balanced on her lap on the table in front of her before focusing her attention on the elderly human before her.

“That is the fee. You cannot afford it, then find another hire.”

Illyana ignored his incredulous look as she adjusted her gloves, her gaze flickering to a set of delicate, crystal candlestick holders. Those would sell for a hefty price down at the black market.

“How do I know that you and your friends weren’t one the one who robbed me to begin with and now want a sum for it?

Illya kept her face blank, but her brow twitched with a hint of annoyance.

“You seeked me out.” She recalled quietly. “Besides, everyone knows the only reason those paintings are worth any value is because they are of your mistress and it seems she is quite the com-” Illyana broke off with a small smile as she watched the mans’ face go from red to purple over the span of time it took her to finish her sentence. She remained silent as Lord Righteous strode over to his desk and furiously wrote out a few bank notes. The red head brought her hand to her lips to hide her smirk as he stalked back with the paper in hand, his face regaining its regular colour.

“Half now. The rest when I receive my paintings. Now get out!”

Illyana spun on her booted heel, her cloak swishing around her frame as she made her way out of the luxurious home. She snuck a side glance to ensure his lordships attention was elsewhere before her fingers closed around the aforementioned candle holders. In one fluid motion the holders were swiped and tucked in her cloak before anyone was the wiser and she was out the door.

Squinting against the high sun, Illyana lifted her hood and fell into step with the crowd. The streets were packed due to Victory day and excited chatter filled the air, with children running about and merchants setting up stalls in every nook and cranny to take advantage of the increased population. Illyana would also be taking advantage of the increased population, dipping her fingers in unsuspecting purses - but the current job would be paying more than enough to keep her comfortable for the next month or so, therefore why bother with the effort. A large crowd had accumulated in the main festival grounds and the hushed whispers alluded to Illya that there was a show of some sort. Pursing her lips, Illyana fell back into the shadows, trying to resist the urge to swat at the butterflies that flitted about as she tried to pick up on what was going on. A spectacle indeed. It seems there was an injured man..? Or was he dead?

 

[EccentricFantasy]

• Jason
• Syrlia

• 
  
  Jason Riley
  
  

  

  
  ​
  The celebrations winding down and the time flying by. Jason was lost in thought, but knew that all would be well eventually. So, he rose up, helping his mother to her feet and walking her back towards home. Things would work out, but he had no time to feel sorry for himself. He had work tomorrow and sad feelings would not cut down the trees.
  
• 
  
  Syrlia Monarch
  
  

  

  
  ​
  Syrlia sighed at the rage and strange actions going on. All of them more than irritating with their accessive hooliganism. It was irritating to no end. She took a moment to pray to Sabel for patience. It was hard to be the adult. She rubbed her temples as she tried to calm herself "Surrounded by children and I need to be the adult."
  
  After a moment she returned to her elegant stance, her hands held in front of her "You all must stop. This is unbecoming behavior." Her head turned to Hermy with the sweetest of smiles "I know you mean well, but sadly, Ciel will not be happy right now. Someone he cares for is hurt. Please, instead of making him smile, tell him it will be okay and sit silently with him." She then took a knee and looked at Lucieon. Then to Ciel. Her hand gently wiped his tear from his cheek "Stay calm my child. I will handle this."
  
  After that she laid her hand on the dying man. Saying a prayer before activating her fate and luck influencing abilities. She chose good fate or luck, however, it was up to fate how that turned out. It could stabilize him or prevent his death. It could also kill him if thats what was best. Either way, fate would choose.
  
  spookie (Ciel), adropofdew- (Hermy)
  

 

[PixelSymphony]

Serah Ashfield



​

"Sighhhh... I'm bored." Serah leaned on her spear as she stood at her post in the city square, watching Victory Day revelers drift this way and that. Even though the sun had long set and the moon replaced it high in the sky, the celebration was continuing nonetheless, and she was contractually obligated to be here until everything finally shut down. Her feet hurt and her stomach was beginning to growl from her provided midday meal, meager as it was in its portions. She sighed again, lamenting quietly the decisions that had lead her up to this point; not too soon after she'd finally arrived in Paradisia, word began to spread around that the city was looking to hire on contract guards for the upcoming Victory Day festival. It sounded like the kind of cushy job that she wanted to start her freelance career with, to earn some easy coin and begin to get her name in circulation as an able hand.

To Serah's own credit, the job had been exactly that; easy-going and devoid of danger, a far cry from the harrowing experience she'd just come out of with the trade caravan gig. But what she hadn't counted on just how badly the idleness of the job would begin to sap away at her usually limitless energy, and it wasn't long into the second half of her shift when she really just wanted Victory Day to come to a close so she could drag herself into the closest tavern, take a load off, and get a meal that consisted of more than just wine and porridge. Would it have killed them to throw even a LITTLE bit of meat in there? Oh well, at least the wine was decent, even if it was clearly watered down; she suspected Paradisia was less than eager to have their hired guards tipsy on the plonk as they did their duties.

Which are... what exactly? From the short briefing she'd been given before essentially being immediately put to work, she was to stand in this one particular spot and call out for the real guards if she saw anything. Again, a far nicer option than what she'd had to do in her days of being on the trade routes, but still somewhat demeaning to her own abilities. Then again in this atmosphere, about the worse thing she saw was the occasional apple theft by some rakish street urchin, and in every instance of that, the merchant themselves had noticed the crime and immediately summoned the real city guard to their aid. So really she highly doubted she would end the day having done anything more interesting than having a short conversation with someone who wanted to know where he could get a mutton leg (a question she herself wished she knew the answer to).

A flutter of movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye and she straightened up to look towards it. At first nothing seemed obviously worth her further concern, but as she peered over the area, eyes scanning over the crowd- there! It was a near imperceptible motion of someone's hand, but she saw a young woman's hand deftly dart out towards a passerby's waist-purse... and then retract itself having done nothing? "What in the blue blazes..." Why in the world would some-one only make a half-hearted attempt at pickpocketing someone? This clearly warranted further investigation, and for a moment she was tempted to report this to the guard station closest to her, until she realized that by her own witness, no crime had actually occurred. She scratched her chin for a second, her brow furrowing as she debated the situation; her job was to keep an eye on people, and there was no doubt that something was up with this woman... so clearly I may as well keep an eye on her. Besides, she continued, looking around her vicinity, it's not like anything else is happening here. Ok, right then, that settles it. Let's see what we can smoke out.

Lifting the spear to rest upon her shoulder as she dusted off the somewhat weathered cloak that she had inherited, she slowly began meander in the same direction as the hooded character from before was walking, keeping a good distance between the two. There was no disguising who she was even in a crowd; even if it weren't for her temporary position as a festival guard, which she was quite sure any ne'er-do-wells had well and truly marked her as, the giant stick of wood with the pointy tip wasn't exactly a dagger she could slip into a boot. She'd have to rely on just appearing to be going about a normal patrol, and hope that no-one had noticed that none of the temp guards were doing similar.

As her quarry made her way towards where the day's ending celebration was slated to take place, Serah's attention was caught by the cries of alarm and wailing that seemed to be emanating from beside the stage. Pushing through the crowd slightly to get a better look, she spotted a young man who seemed to be sobbing, while a golden... butterfly woman seemed to be performing some sort of ritual? And then there was some sort of a clown, and then there was.... just what was going on? Concentrate, Serah, don't loose track of your... ah crap. In the few seconds the red-haired guard had taken her eyes off the mysterious hooded figure, she had disappeared from sight, nowhere to be seen as Serah actively looked around. With a sigh of defeat, she trod up to the small crowd, figuring she'd better at least find out what happened. "Ah, is everything all right, folks?" she announced, stepping beside the others to rest her spear on the ground. As the the fallen man finally entered into her field of view, her eyes went wide. "Woah, wait, is he...?"

Interaction: I guess everybody dear semi-dead guy?

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Herbert
interaction: spookie​

luka quickly caught the attention of herbert the waving of the Kitria catching his attention looking down at Luka herberts face lacked expression but he did seem worried clawed limbs tapping impatiently. “no no my friend I very much enjoyed the wondrous display Tis simply I believe our less then friendly captain of the guard Lucien perhaps has met a grisly end I doubt anyone noticed the fellows fall and considering what you previously informed me of I doubt anyone would care all that much“ herbert explain in a verbose sort of way dusting off his suit a little. “I was simply intending to go and observe if he was in fact deceased for the purpose of the study of course as if would make an interesting chapter or at least article For a latter book now shall we take a look?, if anything we will get a far better view of the show“ herbert asked Luka, if he did take his offer, herbert would lift Luka up upon his shoulders giving the Kitria a better view and also not having to deal with the crowd that had given both of them a wide berth as to not get injured. If not it didn’t really matter as people simply got out of their was as they approached then other crowed around the body, any commoner still stepped out of the way, of course, the eerie sight of a the huge carapace plated creature wearing a form suit of sorts was likely just as creepy as the blue glow of his eyes.

 

[Athanas]

"Had enough, you fucking beast?"

The woman was a feisty one. Short black hair, a muscular, bulky build, and an arrogant, yellowed smile. Gul'Baraz had seen her type before. Rugged scrappers. Mediocre fighters, who thought themselves much better than they were in truth. Jackals who thought themselves wolves.
He quickly ducked out of the way of another blow, landing a defensive kick and pushing her away. There were three other men in the ring with him, and they all had made their presence known. One got too cocky and limped back as Gul's elbow made contact with his nose, but the other two landed solid blows on his body. Pain flared up, but he was long inured to it, and it served little more purpose than to make him angry.

Lashing out, he forced them to retreat as he swung widlly around himself. That kind of four-on-one fight was not exactly a common occurence in the pits. But he needed more money, much more money, and with odds in his favor, even winning wasn't really going to make him that much of a profit. So he'd talked to the ringmaster, got him to arrange something that would seemingly even the odds. If he had his magic, this fight wouldn't have lasted very long, but unfortunately, ringmaster insisted he fight on equal footing.

And to top it all off, his opponents were competent. They'd clearly been in their share of fights. He'd bloodied them up a bit, but they'd also landed several good hits. Even his hardened body was beggining to feel worn down.

But maybe...He could use this. Their experience. They'd faced brawlers before, sure. But they'd never faced someone who could truly channel the wrath of war. He began growling, pumping on his chest, trying to invoke the bloodthirst.

"Ah! Look, I think it's trying to speak!" said one of the men, causing a row of laughter from both the crowd and his teamates.
Gul'Baraz paid little heed. He was solely focused on the pain from his chest and from his bruises. He channeled the hate as he had been taught.

"Maybe it's trying to call for it's daddy?"
That was the last straw. Letting forth a horrible warcry, he charged, slamming shoulder-first into one of them, sending him stumbling backwards. Taking advantage of the loss of balance, he grabbed him by the legs, swinging him like a weapon and slamming him repeatedly into another. The woman had moved to his side and landed four blows in succesion, but Gul'Baraz did not seem to notice in the slightest. He tossed the body onto her, temporarliy hindering her while he focused his attention on the final man. He unleashed a series of blows, forcing him back and up against the wall. Finally, he leaped into the air, bringing down his fist with the entire momentum of the jump. The man tried to block, but the strength difference was simply too great. He lurched backwards, slamming his head against the wall. Gul'Baraz grabbed him by the head, slamming it against the wall two more times before he bit deep into the man's shoulder, his monstrous teeth allowing him to tear off a piece of the man's flesh.


His mouth red with blood, he released the man, who collapsed onto the ground, and turned onto the female. He let loose a roar so guttural, so profound, it drowned out the cheering crowd. The woman turned pale out of fear, then shakily tapped the ground twice.
Gul'Baraz wanted to tear her apart. But she had yielded. With every last ounce of restraint, he forced himself to move away from her and out of the pit, his heart still beating loudly in his chest.

He knew where he could find the ringmaster. Sure enough, he was soon in his office. The four orcs that surrounded the middle aged man looked at him apprehensively, but started no trouble.
"My boy, my boy! You really gave them quite the show, didn't you? Crowd's still hyped up after that!"
"Where's my money, Hurtz?"

The man's face soured slightly at the Ogrillion's bluntness, but his smile didn't fade for long. "Course, Course...Where's my manners...You've earned it, Son. Every last copper. Just...do me a favor, and give this place a rest for a few days, eh? Fear you might be scaring some of the newcomers away, as much as the crowd loves your savagery."

It was Gul'Baraz's turn to sour. "Really? You've got such pansies as contestants? No wonder I'm winning"
The fat man merely smiled and shrugged.

"Fine. If that's what you want. But at least, do something for me. I'm looking to get a crew together, but I'm new to the city. I need an informant."

Hurtz thought it over for a few moments. "Eh, no harm in telling you that, I suppose. Sure, you can go find the prince. He knows a lot of things about what goes around here. Of course, you're gonna need to spend a bunch of that money..."

Gul'Baraz nodded, and stepped out of the office. He would first have to retrieve his gear, then he would find the prince. Luckily, the former was not particularly difficult to find. The small room in the basement of a seedy inn smelled vile, but it was safe enough. He retrieved his halberd and ring, and began donning his suit of half plate.

"Reporting in. Training and recruitment continuing within expectations. In perhaps one to two weeks, and with some more crates of equipment, we could begin phase one."
Ah, of course. Mental messages never got any less jarring, but he'd been slowly getting used to them. Having a gangmate with the ability for long-distance communication was a great boon for logistics.

Surely, some of the money left over from meeting this prince could be given to smiths to create the gear needed. Alone, it would not suffice, but a few more batches, and the tribals would not only be well trained, they would also be well armed-a true threat. He made a mental note to go to one once this whole informant buisiness had been sorted.

He finished with the armor and put on his ring, turning into a (slightly) more agreeable human. It was not a massive improvement, but it would do. He stepped out into the city, and immediately regretted it.

After living in the wilds for so long, large cities caused him stress. But it was a minor nuissance. After some looking around, he spotted his target, casually approaching. He spoke in a low voice, so as to not be overheard

"Evening. Bird told me a prince lives around here that knows a lot of things about interesting people. You wouldn't happen to know anything, would you?"

A bit bluntly put, maybe, but Gul'Baraz was far from charismatic. He hoped the general gist got across-he wanted information and the man had it.

Spoiler: Current Appearance

spookie

 

[spookie]

• Luka
• Glimmer

• 
  
  —✧ Luka ✧—

  ​
  
  — Featuring Mori —
  
  Tilting his head curiously as Herbert spoke, Luka's already wide eyes grew ever shinier... and perhaps even a bit devious in a way that perfectly matched his newfound smirk.
  
  "Lucien... might be dead? Ooh, that sure would be interesting to see alright," the Kitria enthused before his shoulders drooped dramatically. "But as the official healer of the Royal Guard, it would be my duty to either confirm his death or provide aid, bleh. How dull! Still," Luka added, his fluffy feline ears popping up at the noises of the crowd, "something is definitely happening, so yeah, let's go!"
  
  Accepting the Demlemon's offer of a ride, Luka perched effortlessly upon the creature's large shoulders and leaned forward in hopes of seeing whatever might lurk beyond the swirling mass of revellers. Only when Paradisia's famous display of magic was suddenly cut off did he know for certain that something had happened, for the kindhearted Queen would never do such a thing unless she absolutely had to. "How exciting," he whispered to himself, "Luka may get to see that his poor young master is no more!"
  
  Once they arrived near the scene, Luka hopped gracefully off Herbert and offered him a bow of gratitude before hurrying up to the site of the unfolding chaos. It seemed that quite a few people had gathered around Lucien's lifeless form already. Some, like Ciel and Syrlia, were familiar. Others, like the clown, well... not so much. "Step aside, humans, I'm the official healer of the Royal Guard," the Kitria proclaimed, shoving past them with a rustle of tulle and little thought or consideration.
  
  Before attempting any sort of treatment, it was best to find out if such... unpleasantries would actually be required. Selecting an odd-looking boy with raven hair so long it dragged across the ground, Luka all but invaded the stranger's space as he attempted to extract information. "You look like you're enjoying yourself, so could you tell Luka if our dearest Guard Captain is deceased yet?" Most would've found the animated feline getting so close to be uncomfortable, but Mori made no attempt to step away and simply blinked as though this was nothing out of the ordinary at all.
  
  "He is not alive, no. Not dead either, but he will be soon enough... his grip on the Light side of the veil is fading," Mori whispered flatly, having quickly lost interest in Luka once a butterfly brushed across his ashen cheek. "Hmm, that tickles. Come back...
  
  At this information, Luka pouted visibly and his beribboned ears lowered in defeat. If Lucien wasn't dead, that meant he had no choice but to attempt medical care... not that he'd put in an ounce more effort than absolutely required, however. Still, perhaps that boy had been wrong. Asking for a second opinion made sense, and that's exactly what the Kitria was planning to do.
  
  This time, he chose a woman with fiery hair and a large spear. Clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward, Luka tilted his head as he looked up at her. "What about you, lady? Do you think this boy is dead?"
  
  Before he could press for any more details however, Queen Vivienne herself appeared in a flash of blinding light beside Ciel and Syrlia, tears shimmering like priceless gems in the dying glow of a magical evening as she knelt beside the unmoving form that had once been her beloved prodigy.
  
  Interactions: Huntertabbysandshark3 (Herbert), PixelSymphony (Serah)
  
  Mentions: EccentricFantasy (Syrlia), adropofdew- (Hemry), anyone near the Lucien Spectacle(tm)
  
  
• 
  
  —✧ Glimmer ✧—

  ​
  
  "My my, what a stir I've caused."
  Glimmer didn't feel so much as a prickle of remorse as he gazed down upon the supposedly tragic scene below. If anything, it was damn amusing how many festival goers treated the brat Captain breathing his last as yet another form of entertainment. To be so despised by the people you supposedly served that your very public death was treated as a laughing stock? Lucien truly was special.
  
  With all eyes now focused on the dying boy however, Glimmer barely had to exert any effort at all to slip away unnoticed. He'd been tipped off earlier about a potential client with some interesting traits, and the so-called prince of the underworld was nothing if not dedicated to his many business endeavours. Meeting amongst the swarms of Victory Day was bold but not outrageously so, as it seemed almost none of them ever paid attention... something the many swiped goodies he'd stashed away before joining the Queen onstage could attest to.
  
  He made the instantaneous switch from trailing peacock feathers to something far less dramatic, though still effortlessly elegant... keeping up appearances absolutely mattered, especially to someone as vain as Glimmer. Gilded heels clicking softly as they met cobblestone, he swished his way through the throngs of curious people with an ease few could ever imagine. Being a brilliant actor, there was absolutely nothing suspicious or unnatural about him as he strolled calmly against the flow of the masses.
  
  Spotting a large man who fit the description of his client, Glimmer slowed his stride a bit to listen. Raising one perfectly manicured brow, he then placed a hand on his hip. "Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't. This prince must be a very busy man, so I would expect anyone seeking him would have to make it... worthwhile, so to speak."
  
  Indeed, it was well known that the infamous prince both knew and costed more than any other dealer of information in Paradisia... if one desired a premium service, they'd have to accept a premium price. For the desperate or depraved however, this was simply business as usual and well worth its weight in (usually stolen) gold.
  
  Interactions: Athanas (Gul'Baraz)
  
  

 

[Athanas]

Gul'Baraz was by no sense of the word judgemental. For one, he had grown up an Ogrillion, a purebred monstrosity through and through. His grin had caused at least one person to soil his pants, and his skin color made people glare even when they tried to be polite. Add to that, his band was made of brigands, prisoners, goblins, hobgoblins, orcs, and other such hideous abominations to Sabelina's green earth. And of course, the man's demeanor, as well as the demeanor of his allies, was enough to make a barbarian seem like a socialite by comparison.

Even so, with all these added bonuses, Glimmer still absolutely radiated an aura of such smugness, such pompousness, that it took every last ounce of Gul'Baraz's self restraint not to grab him by the scruff of the neck and toss him at great speeds towards whatever hard surface was closest. Anything, from the hair, to the stance, to the practiced elegance just screamed "Hello, proceed to bash in my face at your earliest convenience, please and thank you". Swallowing hard and trying not to focus too much on that, he spoke.

"Evening. I am well aware of how busy the prince must undoubtedly be, with all the commotion that's been apparently happening later, but I assure you-I can make it worth his while"

The Ogrillion smiled, unsettlingly, perhaps. He opened a heavy purse and palmed several gold coins. "Here, a small payment in advance, to demonstrate my willingness to not waste his majesty's time." Without much fanfare, he handed the coins over to Glimmer. "Now then-first order of buisiness, and what I came here for. I wanna start moving up the big leagues. Can't do that alone. I'm sure you'd have some good reccomendations about people currently in the, uh, job market, so to speak, hm? Like, this, uh.... "Black" figure I've heard a few words about. I'll need names, motives, skills, and usual paygrade. Provide, and I'll triple what I just gave you."

He looked around a bit, making sure no one was watching or eavesdropping on them. Of course, he assumed the prince would too have some sort of countermeasures in place to deal with those who would see them destroyed, but paranoia was still ripe in his mind. He'd chosen the losing side, there were no doubts about that. It would be a long while before he could relax. Spotting nothing out of the ordinary, he turned back on the incredibly punchable man, palming yet more coins and handing them to the man. Bollocks....I'll have to postpone the weapon orders until I can get more.

"Next up, I want information on the actions and presence of royal guard and caravans both within and beyond the city's walls. What routes do they prefer? What size groups are we talking here? Do villages have individual garrisons? That sort of thing."

He assumed the handsome bastard was going to demand triple for that, too. It was fine, he could cover it. Wouldn't be left with too much afterwards, though. Jobs weren't scarce in Paradisia, but without the ability to make extraordinary bets on himself in the pit, his accumulation of wealth would go by a lot slower. Didn't matter. He'd been preparing this plan for years. He would not botch over having to wait another week or two. Suited him, anyway. More time to train the tribals and outlaws.

Still, the burning in his chest served it's purpose wel enough, and the reminder did not go away. He wanted to begin. He so desperately wanted to begin. He was tired of living like a rat. Pretending he was nothing more than a common brigand looking for some coin to spend on cheap whores and strong alcohol. It just didn't sit well with him. Didn't matter, he tried to remind himself. The good leader waits for his moment. Shadows know he would not get a second chance at this. He eyes the blue-haired man intently, waiting for his answers.


spookie

 

[adropofdew-]

Hemry + The Rock | interactions • spookie (Ciel/Queen) • EccentricFantasy (Syrlia)
+ whoever else surrounding the chaos ​

Hemry’s demeanor quickly morphed into one of complete annoyance. He couldn’t understand how the purple haired boy could still be sad! The confetti always made children laugh, they would hug him so tight he could barely breathe. Sometimes he got so dizzy, he fainted. Nevertheless, this boy was sobbing even louder than before, even threatening Hemry and his poking accomplice. If this ungrateful boy had grown up in the orphanage, that attitude would simply not do. The headmaster would take him by the ear, drag him into the dungeon, grab a pair of scissors— Hemry slapped himself. No, no, no. Happy thoughts, Hem Hem! Happy thoughts! Still, he could feel the smoke rising from his throat, just like that day. In an instant, his face morphed into a smile again. “Ah, yes,” he said sarcastically when the butterfly woman started praying. “That should solve everything.”

Before he would leave the scene, it was much to Hemry’s delight that the Queen herself had decided to grace him with her presence. He could not read social cues very well, so it being the most inappropriate time, as the Queen was clearly dismayed at the scene—Hemry reached into his backpack and placed a colorfully wrapped present beside the Queen’s feet. Inside was a pair of frozen tear earrings, similar to the Queen’s own tears… though Hemry wasn’t inclined to explain how he acquired this gift. Behind his smudged makeup, he was blushing all the while, scrambling to leave the scene like a flustered schoolboy!

Unfortunately, he only made it a couple feet away before his face met the ground. Something solid had caught his shoe. And he… thought he heard a voice. “H-hello…?” Hemry whispered to himself, though he was pretty sure the crowd could hear everything.

“Hello,” it said.

“Hello?”

“Yes, hello, hello. Look down upon me!”

Hemry’s eyes locked on a rock, he blinked. The rock, despite its magnificent sheen, had a couple cracks here and there. The voice was rather high pitched, but he couldn’t make out age nor gender. Was someone messing with him? A magic trick, perhaps? Hemry started laughing to himself, and as the rock continued to apparently share its life story, Hemry’s laugh became more maniacal. He was on the ground, holding his sides from laughter.

“Wh-what is wrong with this human, anyway? I simply told him I am of the name Roark, my master is currently indisposed, and I am searching for her,” Roark said, shrugging. No matter. He would find her eventually, after all, he had some interesting intel to offer about the whereabouts of her father.

 

[Nocturne.]

[

Poor, poor Lucien.

A Captain, to perish at such a young age? Not to mention... in his very prime. A true tragedy, to be sure... a harrowing death, too, so it seemed.

Falling to his doom, just as Viktorya feared her own demise at the hands of which she could not control.

Perhaps this time, Viktorya wouldn't have to work so hard to feign her emotion.

Having been stood in the crowd— unnoticed— for a good portion of the affair, Viktorya approached the Queen with measured steps, expression schooled into one of shock and morose grief. Keeping herself at a distance, the guardswoman's voice feigned sorrow.

"What a tragedy this is, my Queen. A terrible loss to suffer." She kneeled down, looking at her former Captain, rendered unconscious. "Esteemed as he was, yes?"

Try as she might, Viktorya's gaze betrayed her, chains of mirth veiled behind a thin web of sorrowful admiration. A wonderful opportunity, this was. With Lucien's departure from this realm, the Royal Guard would have a spot open for a new acting Captain. And, yes, though Viktorya may not be the first pick... it'd be much easier to get rid of whoever the Queen chose to be next in line than it would've been to get rid of Lucien.

Viktorya gritted her teeth, glancing away to hide the growing rage furthering her features. Lucien was a spoiled brat, Vivienne's prodigy. She couldn't have gotten rid of him if she tried with all she had, but with each new Captain recruited...

Viktorya could pick them off.

One by one, if she had to.

Looking back over, Viktorya's gaze fell to all the other citizens of Paradisia in the crowd. Though most seemed overtly sorrowful, Viktorya doubted it was at all sincere. Lucien was despised amongst Paradisia, a fact that was well known.

She clearly wasn't the only member of the crowd faking their grief.

——————————

Interactions: spookie (Queen Vivienne)

Mentions: Everyone else among the chaos.

/font]​

 

[Rumble Fish]

Interactions: None but open

"E o hao-o hao o
Hao riri o hu o
Ro-ho i o hi o"

The crooning belonged to the long muzzle of what would at first glance be thought to be a werewolf or other unfortunate soul riddled by curse. The creature grunted as she put down the arms of the small cart she had been pulling all this distance, swinging her thick arms out with a groan. She had been trekking since before sunrise and only now came across a settlement. She turned to look inside the cart to check on her cargo. Pulling back a large tarp revealed a generous number of large, fat salmon that the Wulver had fished all throughout yesterday, gutted and ready to cook. Or eat…

A deep rumble triggers her eyes to roll as she gently placed the tarp back over the fish, a catch-mitt sized paw now rubbing her viciously protesting belly. Puffing her cheeks, she let out a sigh and turned to the opening to this town she had ventured across.

“Ah ken. They're nae fur ye though.” She grumbled to, well her own stomach, “Wance we sell thaim, we wull sloch. Aye?” This did nothing but provoke it further. At this point, she gave up arguing and picked up the arms of the cart to pull it further.

The streets were flocked and chaotic. Loud music and general merriment. Willow's ears flick around and her head raises high. Under her cape her tail swished along the cobblestones. She had not expected this; but then again with humans it was hard to expect anything of them. With her great eight-and-a-half-foot height she had a good view above the crowd. Despite their distraction of something happening further away, a sense of anxiety came across the beast. She raises her hood over her head and makes her way through the crowd. If she had any chance to sell any of these fish, it would need to be within a crowd.

However the closer she got to the main stage, which she had seen upon entering, the more chaos seemed to ensue. A trick gone wrong? Dropping the arms of the cart carefully, Willow's curiosity got the better of her. Her hood still raised, she padded further in, above the heads of the at least two to three head shorter humans around her. Her hawkish eyes turned to the stage.

"...Is he deid?" She rumbled to nobody in particular. But regardless, her confusion was peaked. Maybe this was a bad idea? She could eat in the next town, surely?

 

[adropofdew-]

Hemry | interactions • Rumble Fish (Willow) ​

After nearly injuring his ribs from laughter, Hemry was trying to catch his breath. The rock had gone quiet, possibly already on the way to its master. Even when Hemry tried to look around for it, it was nowhere to be found. Either the rock had super stealth, or the clown was losing his mind. Or both. As a traveling entertainer, it was not surprising for him to come across… strange characters. Hemry shook his head from the thoughts. His companions at home must miss him. After he grew tired of Paradisia – he would eventually return. But first… much fun was to be had!

Suddenly, a wind blew, and a familiar scent tickled his nose. It was a mixture of fish and… leeks? If the esteemed captain would hurry up and die, he would soon start to smell himself. Hemry merely blinked at the strange furry character seemingly looking distressed. “Yes, it is,” Hemry said enthusiastically, “but, more importantly!” He leaned closer to the creature, perhaps a little too close, admiring the fur with wide eyes. He couldn’t help but remember the time his traveling companion surprised him with a unique dish for his birthday! Hemry couldn’t recognize what it tasted like, but from what he gathered, his companion was a master huntsman so it could have been anything. “Why do you smell like fish?”

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Herbert
interaction: spookie​

With the arrival of Herbert and Luka, the Demlemon would casually watch his shorter College get to work soon after herbert had himself began sketching and writing out the scene unfolding in front of them, his attention being somewhat shifted towards mori looking at the fellow in a quizzical manner moving over to him a little before finally speaking directly to the strange man. "excuse me sir i can't help but notice you seem to have more of a... understanding of prehaps what is going on to that poor boy there and i can't help but notice you are unquie sort yes, regardless i am herbert im sure you have read at least some of my books yes?"

 

[Rumble Fish]

Willow turned to the young man as he spoke up. The beast visibly shuddered as he described the man on stage as “it.” Something about that resonated too much with the Wulver. Immediately she was reminded of the men who would torment her. They thought it was funny to shove silver into her face to force compliance and be their play-thing. As far as they knew she was just some mindless beast they could exploit. It seemed that many humans had the same sentiment as she had encountered a fair few more in her travel.

This person did not seem to share that same mindset as he had moved a lot closer, a bit too close for the Wulver’s liking. She rubbed the back of her neck with a blink as he seemed incredibly interested in her fur. This was not entirely surprising but still, being this close to a stranger was a bit too much. She took a tentative step back as he asked her about what seemed to be bothering him. As he mentioned the scent of fish, the beast's shiny black nose quivered as her brows furrowed a little.

"Fish?" She blinks before realising what the man meant, "Och, um, ah sell thaim." she explained as she reached into her small cart and pulled out a particularly large and fat salmon that she had wrapped carefully in a cloth. Something she had learned from before was that people were not quite as eager to buy fish that had been touching others. Something about sanitation. Honestly, it meant nothing to Willow but; well if she wanted to eat she had to sell these. Holding this fish, which she knew would be delicious if cooked in any way, caused her stomach to rumble again. Hopefully the noise of the crowd could muffle it. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Ye cuid dae anythin' wi' a fish lik' this. Poached, steaks, roasted, cut intae wee strips 'n' eaten as a munchies... " she muses as she looked at it. All she could hope was that somebody in this town would recognise that and buy it, "Resh tae. Ah catch thaim masell 'n' a'." she looked away and back to the stage, still a little un-nerved by what was going on. She frowns and growls a little in her throat.

"Whit in th' Otherworld even happened thare?" she blinked as she took a few steps closer to the stage, not before gently placing the fish back into the cart. The man's indifference to someone potentially being dead was unnerving. The closer she got, she then noticed a regal looking woman looking over the body. Her nose twitched as she took everything in. She... smelled different to everyone else. Royalty? Willow blinked as she fully approached the stage. "Whit happened?" she asked the people there. At this point she didn't care for what anyone would think of her appearance. She held and played with the end of her cloak as she waited.

Interaction: adropofdew- (Hemry)
Mentions: spookie
Nearby: Huntertabbysandshark3 Nocturne.

 

[spookie]

• vivienne
• mori

• 
  
  —✧ Vivienne ✧—

  ​
  
  The beloved monarch of Paradisia was not one who easily gave into despair.
  
  She took her role as a guiding light seriously, and that meant remaining strong no matter how hopeless or terrible a situation might be. Still, it took all of her dignity not to break into a fit of unending sobs at the nearly unthinkable sight before her. Vivienne's brilliant descent from the platform above sent an already raucous croud of onlookers into overdrive, but she hardly noticed their antics... which was perhaps for the best, considering how few of them appeared genuinely saddened by the fate of their Guard Captain.
  
  "Everyone, please stand back," the Queen ordered, voice calm but with an undeniable edge of fear.
  
  Her mind was already far from everything unfolding, so much so that she didn't even notice the clown's offering of a gift. No, this wasn't the first time Vivienne had seen her beloved Lucien so close to his own demise. The memories came rushing back all at once, bringing with them a new wave of quiet tears.
  
  Lucien had been deathly ill the first time she'd laid eyes on him, a tiny broken thing shivering in Amelia's arms as the woman explained to her Queen why she'd returned from routine foreign patrols with an unfamiliar and very feverish child. The healers she'd called for all insisted it was entirely hopeless, but Vivienne had ordered them to try despite this. At the very least, the mysterious raven-haired boy with no name would die comfortable and cared for.
  
  Of course, he never actually succumbed to his illness, thanks in part to a certain Kitria with immense knowledge of exotic plants. Vivienne could still recall the joy she'd felt when his eyes had finally fluttered open to reveal their brilliant shade of violet, as well as his (rather understandable) confusion at the entire situation. Lucien barely spoke to her at first, but the Queen had already grown attached to him as though he were the child she'd never have.
  
  When a healer had taken her aside and explained that Lucien had many wounds in various states of healing and was also dangerously underweight, Vivienne's heart seemed to physically sink as she realized the horrible truth... this child had been hurt and abused long before he'd gotten himself lost in the blizzard.
  
  With steadfast determination, the Queen had silently pledged that she would never allow this boy to feel powerless or go without again. She could not right the wrongs done to him by others in the past, but whatever he needed to feel loved and worthy, he would get... even if castle staff would occasionally warn her that she'd create a spoiled brat with so much special treatment.
  
  Lucien was a prodigy in every sense of the word, seemingly gifted at anything he put his mind to but especially with swordplay. Very few children could disarm trained adult soldiers at barely ten years old, but Vivienne had known all along her charge was anything but average and encouraged Amelia to train him regularly. The two formed a bond, and she swore that by eighteen, Lucien would surpass even her own skill.
  
  Amelia would not live to see this, however... and now it seemed entirely possible that Lucien might never reach such a birthday in the first place. The thought made Vivienne wince, and Ciel's endless weeping didn't help. Lucien looked so hopelessly fragile lying still without his signature air of icy perfectionism, more like a discarded doll than a prideful military leader.
  
  Another fallen Captain... did she ask too much of Lucien? In her desire to prevent further feelings of worthlessness, had she unwittingly exploited his gifts and harmed him just like his long-lost family?
  
  "No, no!" Vivienne cried out, the thought proving too painful to continue.
  
  Wiping her dampened eyes with as much grace as she could manage, the Queen turned her sorrowful gaze towards Viktorya as the woman spoke and knelt down to better view the tragedy that was unfolding before her.
  
  "It's unthinkable... not my Lucien, surely we cannot lose a Captain on the very day meant to celebrate another's heroic sacrifice," Vivienne nearly shouted, her usually serene aura turning emotional, "it's just too cruel!"
  
  Pausing to take a ragged breath and regain her perfect posture, Vivienne calmed herself before continuing in a much lower voice. "He was our very best, after Amelia of course... she'd always said not to fear, as Paradisia would always have Lucien to protect it if she ever fell, but now they're both... oh Lucien, I am so sorry..."
  
  To those around her, the Queen's words probably made little sense, and it wasn't as if the comatose boy still cradled in Ciel's arms could respond to her desperate apology... yet for the first time since she'd lowered the gilded casket containing nothing more than a lock of Amelia's golden hair into a yawning grave, Vivienne's famous poise cracked.
  
  She could only hope Luka would arrive soon and work another miracle, no matter how impossible it now seemed...
  
  Interacting: Nocturne. (Viktorya)
  Mentioned: adropofdew- (Hemry), everyone in the chaos zone
  
  
• 
  
  —✧ Mori ✧—

  ​
  
  Almost as quickly as it caught his attention, the butterfly Mori had been following seemed to disappear into an ever-growing crowd of onlookers. Deciding not to bother chasing it down after all, he instead turned back towards the curious catboy in the fluffy costume of tulle and ribbons, but realized that he was no longer nearby.
  
  Mori found this rather unfortunate, as he'd decided he liked the strange creature and his apparent lack of care towards a dying boy of high status. It was rather amusing, and uncommon amongst most mortals. More entertainment appeared to be arriving however, this time in the form of a very large and rather insect-like being who was carrying sketches and writings centered on the current event.
  
  Tilting his head a bit as he listened, Mori did not blink as he silently regarded Herbert's question. After a few seconds, the eerie boy nodded in a manner that would best be described as slow and robotic.
  
  "Hello, Herbert... perhaps I know much of you, or perhaps not... I do not remember," Mori stated dreamily, "as for your question, the boy you ask of is caught in the veil between two worlds, Life and Death, Light and Dark... mortals have many names for them. He fights valiantly, most would be consumed by now, but it is sure to be a losing battle without intervention... a somewhat fascinating struggle to observe, I suppose."
  
  Catching sight of a strange furry creature and the clown from earlier, Mori's interest was once again piqued. He soon turned intangible and popped up beside the traveling fish seller, who was now standing closer to the supposed tragedy, without making so much as a sound. Mori did not attempt to answer her question, but instead focused his empty teal eyes in the general direction of the goods she was offering.
  
  "I require the largest fish you currently possess," Mori stated plainly, as though someone all but teleporting next to you and attempting to buy aquatic produce was entirely normal. "Yes, only one, and it absolutely must be the biggest. Whatever payment this requires, I shall provide..."
  
  Interacting: Huntertabbysandshark3 (Herbert), Rumble Fish (Willow)
  Mentioned: adropofdew- (Hemry)
  
  

 

[adropofdew-]

​

Matching the creature’s own rumbly stomach, Hemry was nearly salivating. He usually preferred his fish over a fire, and usually eaten with other delectables – but now was not the time to be picky. Remembering his performance from earlier, Hemry could still feel the bite on his scalp when he was bitten into as an apple. While he could control his transformations, he figured with the half-dead body and with the wailing Queen, everyone needed some kind of distraction. Though no one would admit it, the clown was happy to oblige.

Sticking a hand in his pocket, he found a special coin (worth absolutely nothing) and flicked it Willow’s way. He didn’t wait for a response, but rather grabbed a random fish from the cart with twinkling eyes of mischief. As long as no one tried to eat him in his fish form, he could keep the transformation going for a couple minutes. With absolutely zero hesitation, he bit into the fish.

***

​

Kyuri’s dreams consisted of nothing but leeks with the background of blurred faces. There was a strange feeling that she was at a farm, but the only hint of this would be the fields and farm tools. Upon closer inspection, her dream form blinked multiple times. Each time, the bodies around her kept disappearing and reappearing. There were multiple fields of leeks, much to her joy. But for some reason, there was a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She looked down at her hands, looking at the palms and seeing nothing but dirt and— there was a high pitched sound.

“Oi, wake up, you ungrateful radish! Sleeping out in the public like this!” Roark found Kyuri laying on the ground, apparently no one had bothered to take her back to the inn. “Have I taught you nothing?” The rock continued. Much to Kyuri’s indifference, she wiped slobber from her cheek and blinked at the rock with red, half-lidded eyes. The doctor’s concoction was apparently still in her system. She didn’t know what to make of this… talking rock… but something about it was familiar. Yet, panic overcame her, so she grabbed the rock.

“N… no! Don’t you dare… not again! I have important information to tell y-”

Rocks were not made to fly. Roark knew this, but it didn’t matter. The air was cool, at the very at least, and if he had any hair, his hair would be blowing majestically in the wind. The velocity was impressive, at the very least. He would surely hit someone very hard unless they dodged. (Whoever wants to get hit by the rock, go for it)

Just at the same moment, Kyuri noticed a strangely dressed man caked with makeup apparently transform into… a fish? He began to flop around, a median to large sized fish. She shook her head. I… just need to go back to sleep… Hemry flopped around, accidentally bumping into a random passerby who cursed vehemently at him. He was feeling rather dehydrated in his form, lips shriveled up and eyes glossy—desperately looking around for an open body of water… but not before accidentally bumping into his raven haired friend and the very same fish selling creature. Moving about would be a lot easier with actual feet.

interactions • open / Rumble Fish (Willow) • spookie (Mori)
+ a flying rock (Roark) about to interact with someone's face ​

 

[Rumble Fish]

Willow was not quite as annoyed in the woman’s lack of acknowledgement to her as she was confused and sad at her words. Whoever this person was clearly meant a lot to her and she seemed distraught over this. The beast grumbled something under her breath and went back to her cart. The clown was still there from before. She was about to open her maw to say something, mainly to ask what was going on, but before she could, a coin was flicked into her paws and he took off with one of the fish from the cart.

“Whit the-oi!“ She was about to growl but was halted as her stomach rumbled. The Wulver sighed and was paused in her actions before rubbing her stomach with an annoyed huff. “Ye juist hud tae pipe up didnae ye?” she grumbled to herself before looking around as she got the feeling that someone else was trying to get her attention. She turned around to see the dark-haired man standing at her cart. Before she could ask him what he wanted, he made is feelings clear. The biggest fish she had? Willow scratched her neck and blinked a few times.

“Biggest fish? Ah uh juist a seicont-” She blinked a few times and rummaged through the cart. It took her a second and found what she had been searching for. A large mahi-mahi fish that she had to lie at the bottom of the cart, wrapped in a large cloth. Bringing it out, she opened it up and blinked her orange eyes down at the man. She lied it across the top of the cart.

“Caught this this mornin'. A dinnae ken howfur muckle this wid be worth. Amurnay picky.” She paused before sighing, any money at all would be good so she might as well let him choose, “Ne'er sold yin o' thae afore. Pay whitevur ye think tis worth.” She sighed. A bull mahi-mahi would be worth a pretty penny but she really did not know how much exactly. The Wulver sighs and looks back to the wailing woman. This whole thing was getting ridiculous and she was beginning to wish she had skipped this town and gone to the next one. But before she could attempt to say or do anything else about the matter, something knocked against her foot.

"Whit?" she blinked and looked down to see something that surprised her. A clownfish flopping around on the ground. "Hm." She stooped down and grabbed the fish by its tail. How was this one still alive? While her fish were fresh, they were indeed deceased and certainly do not flop around on the ground as if they had just jumped out of the cart. She blinks a few times before suddenly realising something else.

"Huh, ah dae nae mind catching a clownfish-? Hauld yer horses a minute," Something caught her eye as she looked at the fish closer. She then spotted something on the ground. A fish that had a large bite out of it. Where was that clown that had bought the fi... oh. Wait did he just-? Her gaze hardens as she glares at the fish with a mixture of confusion and annoyance, "Whit th' otherworld-? Urr ye serious richt noo?" The sight and scent of the said clownfish practically sent the beast's stomach into a frenzy, releasing a chorus of rumbles, almost begging her to eat this thing, despite her mind knowing this was actually a man. The Wulver winced with a sigh but she was quickly distracted as she noticed that the fish formally known as the clown was dehydrated. With a growl she walked to the back of the cart and plopped the clownfish into the barrel of water she had at the back which she used to drink out of but it would do for now. Willow growled under her breath and turned back to the black haired man.

"Mynd telling me whit th' otherworld is gaun oan 'ere? a'm completely lost." she spoke, her ears erect. Seriously- what was going on in this place? Why had she intially been worried about how others would see her when she had a damning clownfish-that-had-just-been-a-man in her cart?

Interactions: Mori spookie Hemry adropofdew-