It is not news if the government straps a tiny flag to a pigeon that decides to take a rest on top of a statue of Kim Il-Sung.
I, Gotterdammerung, did not make any major attempt to see my Mimi-mistress noted thusly in excess. Although a good deal of people had moved around to and fro, fights broke out, and very little was done to quell the situation that I, Gotterdammerung, perceived, my Mimi-mistress, being of a careful nature, considered this all much too boring. She began to walk out of the bar and I decided to follow her, noting that even her powers of communication did not seem to penetrate the excessive noise. However, as she looked down at her feet, I, Gotterdammerung, realized that my Mimi-mistress was deep in thought. Briefly, I channeled her thoughts and noticed that she both considered joining the Benevolent Sorceress in an excursion around Fairwyn, but seemed preoccupied in her own musings. It was not until I saw the approach of the dungeon party behind me, to my great surprise and my Mimi-mistress' childlike laughter, that I realized the reason of her preoccupied time; the elderly demon held the crumbling doll in his hand and Mimi watched it turn to dust, a slight pang in her heart, but inevitable. As they went inside, so too did my Mimi-mistress. By then a congregation of a few players had developed, and along with the elderly demon, my Mistress and I joined them from a slight distance. The demon claimed that in their efforts, it would be best to visit the library. I felt a surge of excitement in the complex mind of my Mimi-mistress, and explained on her behalf to the demon that she would be willing to visit and would be useful to the excursion for her powers of warping communication may ease the understanding of the language. My mistress is truly the best mistress. - - - - - - - - - -
Toronto's mayor called in the army in the 1990s to clear out a blizzard and became the laughingstock of the other major Canadian cities. Now with the ice storm last month, our mayor (who is the laughingstock of the world) refused to call even emergency services and as a result the reparations from all the damage are still problematic. Each year this city keeps getting more and more topsy-turvy My school never closes even if half the damn city were to fall into the inner mantle but that is just in its private school policy or some such. So on grueling days where ice storms are completely annihilating the streets, I can be certain that at least a few poor souls will be toughing it out in that tiny building.
INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x x ] Sangria listened intently at the thief, having nodded to her business partner who came by, and listened to the words he had to say. Wine, as well? Mmm ... it seems a few of them had double-tracked when going off into their little groups, was it? Ah. She licked her lips free of a few stray drops of alcohol and turned around. Speaking of which, where did her little Morji run off to, anyway? When the thief asked her about the alcohol, her ears pricked up and quickly turned back towards him. "Ah, I'm so glad you noticed, hun. It's a special type of ... shall we say, electrifying brandy? ❤" She leaned the arm she was holding her bottle in upon Johnis' shoulder. "Aged in old rosewood and mahogany, distilled with a sharp anise essence for a little bite. But that's not the best part. It'll ferment a bit in the ... voracious atmosphere of Fairwyn. All the violence and the hot-bloodedness. Yet, refreshing, isn't it?" She winked and looked to the counter. "The Fairwynians won't be able to get their hands off this stuff. I'm sorry we had to take the business out of the bartender, but ah --" She took another sip. "It's all business in Aether, and I'm sure he's having the time of his life locked up in there with my employees, ufufu. ❤" Mmm ... He mentioned the dungeon. She rolled around the consideration of that in her head for a bit. "Right, right ... we thought about getting in there ourselves, this lad and I ..." She tapped Johnis' back with her bottle-holding hand. "But ... we decided against it. And what'd you know! I think a familiar face and his party just walked into the ruckus here a few moments ago! ❤" She let go of Johnis and placed her bottle on the nearby table. "Yoohoo! Over here! ❤" The bar was too crowded and noisy from the music for Darren to hear. Sangria paused, thinking for a bit. As a handmaiden passed her by with more alcohol to replace the bartender's old stock, Sangria stopped her and whispered something in her ear. The handmaiden nodded and walked over to the bar. At the bar, the handmaiden placed her box of brandywine bottles behind the counter, where a few gruff-looking Fairwynians were eyeing it callously. She took out one bottle and slid it to Darren, who seemed to be sitting there by himself, that big lug. The handmaiden walked over to the demon boy's side and whispered in his ear. Sangria was wondering if he'd get his ass over to the discussion and tell them about what the heck happened in the dungeon, and hopefully he'd accept her little bottle-offer to pump up his spirits from that arguably long trek. The handmaiden pointed to their little group for clarification.
D'aw, I definitely enjoy the concept. My favourite factor would most likely be the overall colour scheme you used which is very solidly done, friend. My biggest recommendation on future improvement would just be general anatomy. You have a good deal of basic factors down and I enjoy that even with reference you are working with postures, which are a great point of improvement for any artist while helping you down the road overall. Getting some of the structure of the limbs, torso, and the head, along with their relation to each other overall, will help solidify the structure of your characters in your future work and give them more depth; positioning and the like can be tricky, so just keep practicing my friend, you do already have a solid basis, which is excellent. Hands are probably the most challenging part of any body for a number of artists (myself included; you can draw some fingers better than I can, hehe), so practicing hand positions probably just as much as overall body structure is a surefire way to get some nice contrast between hand gesture and posing. References for both of these overall are actually the best to use and you can probably find them anywhere. When you get interested in poses then I have a website you can take a look at, though I recommend getting more of your anatomy down solidly first, but heck some of the reference in there could be good for anatomy work overall.. My second suggestion would deal with the shading. You have a bit of shading going there and it fits the colours, but for your future work to really pop out you should use shading and highlights with your colours in a way that will give everything a bit more depth overall -- clothes, skin, et cetera. Getting the right shading while making it look appealing to the artist is another skill that takes a bit of practice, but with all the ways to do it (whether through simple layering to opacity overlays and luminosity to playing around with semi-opaque airbrush and acrylic brush) you can find one that fits your style. Next to overall body anatomy, getting the lighting right is probably one of the more important things I would set in an artist's burgeoning improvement. You can tie things like depth of line in your line art to this and the like to make it crisper/cleaner while giving it more variety. Overall, however, I am pleased as well. Keep up the artistic merit, soldier!
Forum legalized them a while ago. Ben just needs to tell us how he wants them cooked and we are good to go.
Ben I tried stickying the cheap import thread but it just fell off the wall, I am sorry.
What if you are grey?
INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x x ] "As frustrated as any one of us would be if things hadn't changed for a millenia, hun. ❤" Sangria, having returned, placed a hand on Garret's shoulder and leaned close to his ear. "You did a wonderful job. ❤" She took out a bottle -- a deep, crimson one -- from her open purse, held up his hand, and placed it snugly between his fingers. Rising, she snapped, and from the open door by the conversing trio, the rest of Sangria's party entered. It was an entourage of her familiar employment, a gaggle of neatly-dressed gaunt-limbed butlers and stern-looking handmaidens, dressed impeccably in black and white, their faces hidden behind red veils, and moving almost like dolls or robots. The last and shortest one, Chardonnay, came in behind them. The party was holding various cases, kegs, and suitcases, and stood at attention by the door, Chardonnay rolling a particularly large cask to the front. Sangria turned. "There we are, my dears. They've taken the liberty of cleaning up the place, and the others are too busy rubbing their legs together, ufufu. ❤ Shall we get started?" "Let's." A cold smile rose from the depths of Sangria's face. "Lovely. ❤" The crew got to work. Sangria led them to the doors behind the bar and she herself walked to the bartender. Tapping at him for a bit, she whispered something in the bartender's ear and in a brief stint, he became dizzy, his senses draining from him. He stumbled, and a handmaiden holding a red bottle near Sangria caught him. She brought the bottle to his lips and the bartender fell limp, a light snore resonating from his chunky nostrils. "Help him experience some euphoria for a bit, please." Sangria's voice was stern, and the handmaiden nodded. The handmaiden slowly dragged him into the door behind the bar. When he disappeared inside, she quickly started taking down all the old bottles and placed them on the bar desk. "We're restoooocking! ❤" Sangria called out to the bar in general. A few gruff Fairwyn grinders looked her way. She continued to place the old bottles down on the table, grabbing a select few for her companions. A few Fairwyn dancers stopped their ridiculously classless grinding and huddled around the barstools, grabbing some the old bottles. One of the butlers returned from behind the door, carrying a few bottles of odd bright orange whiskey with him, restocking the counters and shelves. A handmaiden joined him and sat by the bar counter, organizing the gaggle of onlookers and gathering up orders. Sangria grabbed three bottles in her arms and took them around the room. "One for you. ❤" She placed a big Fairwyn whiskey bottle next to Prism and the bat girl, but kept it in view of Vex and wind-boy. "And--" She looked at the ... Who had ... vomited on the ground, ugh. She'd have to tell someone to clean that up. Sangria deftly avoided the smell and moved on, leaving the whiskey bottle near one empty table nearby just in case. She brought the last bottle with herself and walked over to the trio who had been discussing this mess of a situation. "Now. ❤" She uncapped the bottle and wiggled her finger around the base, increasing the alcohol's potency. "If I were God--" She took a sip. "I'd be just as frustrated if my little dears kept squabbling over pieces of my domain without reaching anything close to victory-- mm, this is still not strong enough." She wiggled her finger again. "Think about it, these fun little games only exist as ways of expanding one's influence. Why else would they exist? We aren't sadists, ehehe." She winked at Marina. ❤ "--With the eventual result of becoming the ruler over everything. To me it feels like our buddy up there is all too ... tired of this. Being god. Living in Aether." Sangria sighed. "Believe me, I can sympathize." Her voice was quiet and pouty, trying to keep it quiet so that nobody would hear, but suspiciously making sure that it was just heard enough above the noise so that they could hear it. "But that means you're just in time, dear Marina. ❤" She gazed deeply at her. "Thief-boy is right. What a time to be immortal! To face the wrath of god; truly a test of how far you can go! Let's see if you have what it takes, human, don't you agree?" She leaned over to Marina and talked more softly, but more intensely. "Don't you simply want to see us suffer, one by one? The careless fools up above who played with your existence? Let your friends die?" Her voice was uncharacteristically bitter, but she did not direct the bitterness at Marina herself. In fact, the bitterness felt more like an aura restricted only to Sangria, and Sangria wondered if Marina could tell. Sangria retreated, walked over to the table and took an empty glass to poor the bottle in, returned next to Garriet, and took another sip. Her voice returned to its devious sweetness. "We were unable to discuss what we found in the castle, dears. Perhaps ... there is something that would lead to telling us a bit about what the hell that big guy is doing with everything. ❤"
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[[ synk can add/customize OOC/Location/etc. stuff here as he pleases]] Onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan > Kawaii, ne? < onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan. Onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan, > Onii-chan! Tasukete onegai! I am speaking to you using text in this colour! < onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan. Onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan < sometimes, I like thinking about my onii-chan, and when I do, my text looks like this. > onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan onii-chan. . . .
post after lock abusing moderator privilege
INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x x ] Sangria sipped her drink as Marina walked away, barely saying a word. Ahaha, how long could her little mind take this? ❤ She stood up and waved, her mouth crooked in a smile, although the girl's back was turned, and walked over to the section of the bar table that wasn't quite broken yet. Leaning over the counter, she noticed that the bartender had a cold-press to his forehead and was grumbling over something-or-other beneath the counter. She tapped on the mahogany and he looked up, this time not saying a thing. "Hun, your establishment's in pieces. It doesn't get that way so quickly, does it?" He attempted to mumble a reply, drops of anger sliding down his temples. "Ah ah. ❤" She lowered herself and moved closer to the man's cherry-red face, smiling viciously. "You would be lucky people are finally having a party now, hun. But--" She rose and turned around. "Tell you what. Let me take the repair of your little establishment off your hands. ❤" "Ten glasses of water, please." She pointed at the intact one, where Garret and Marina sat. The bartender groggily complied, albeit not with a tumult of swearing. The music grew louder and the air thicker, and she felt her heart pump more quickly. Mmm! ❤ They all needed to celebrate. The bartender brought out ten whiskey glasses, and with a shaky hand, slowly filled up all of them. Sangria stopped his hand over the fifth glass, and lowered her head to gently kiss it, shooting through his veins the sensation of suddenly increased feeling. She lifted her head and smiled. "The fresh-meat decided to liven up this place a bit. Let me allow you to feel the pleasure coursing through your veins as well. ❤" The bartender's hand was steady and he finished the glasses. Sangria snapped her fingers. The drinks burst into glasses of bright green absinthe and milky arak. The bartender just stared in disbelief. "That's right. Ufufu. You know, you'd make a great employee ..." "A--Aye." He gathered them up. "I'm glad." She leaned back on the bar table. "I only needed one sip from you, and the other Players took care of the rest by completely breaking the place. I didn't have to break you after all. ❤" She giggled playfully and blew a curl of crimson hair out of her face. The bartender sighed next to her. "I take it you've accepted my business proposition, hun?" "Do y've got mer a tha' stuff for erryone else?" "Ah, you're all the same." Sangria looked aside. "Only this place. With its atmosphere of tumult and chaos. Mmhmm. ❤" Sangria clapped her hands together and picked up the tray of drinks, walking over to Garret's table and placing them between the thief and the Coordinator. She quickly knelt down to whisper in the man's ear. "Be a dear and fix this place up with your Plundering when you have time, won't you? ❤ Take Marina with you too, she needs to learn a few things. There's many more drinks where that came from, dear. ❤ I'll be right back, But when I return, I'd like to see all the others gathered 'round your table ready to talk about the incident. I'm trusting you, big boy. ❤" Sangria rose and snapped her fingers again. The alcohol in Garret's glass turned into the milky arak. "Try it, hun. I'm sure you'll all come to love it. Not even Valen can resist the temptation of downing reality! ❤" She waved and strutted away, exiting the bar and avoiding the commotion Magnus caused outside while briefly leaving.
I plan to platinum life. Currently it should take me another 80 or so years, but gaming technology might increase that time.
{ THE RESET OST - ALBUM 1 } Collection of Scene-Specific Songs Used in Peoples' Posts - Work in Progress | 01. RESET Are you prepared for Godhood? | 02. Hall of Games The Castle of God rose out of the clouds, a stark reminder to all Immortals. | 03. Foyer The gathering. | 04. Redemption "I do hope this is a decent start for my first game." | 05. TIME IS UP Even the immortal are not spared from the bell of God. | 06. Crumbling Past The castle begins to tremble. | 07. Ambrose's Descent "His fate is undetermined, but he won't be coming back." | 08. The March of the Fairest "I suggest you all vacate the premise while we - the Elite Guard of Fairwyn - handle the situation." | 09. Distant Shores Serenity lies below the castle. | 10. Burning Liquor Down Yer Throat Everybody in the club. | 11. Bagpipe Romance The power of seduction is limitless.
INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x x ] Sangria took a sip from her refilled glass of brandy. She leaned in close to Asterion, smiling. "I call all my dears dears. You're dear to me." She tapped the tip of his nose with an outstretched finger as he heard the big brute move away somewhere else. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw the little girl and her bear move after him. But it seemed too late now, that bartender must have had a terrible idea of them. Ah well. ❤ Garret came cruising over, still not quite drunk, but fairly tipsy. "Enjoying yourself, I see. Ehehe. ❤" Sangria rose as Garret put his arm around Asterion. "If you'll excuse me--" Marina called out for the insanity to stop. Sangria turned, a glint in her eye, her mouth frozen in a "v". She felt a thickness rise in the air, and her heart beat just a bit faster. Oh? Was she doing something to these people? Sangria looked around. Sure enough, these roughnecks stopped beating each other up and started dancing very ... very close. "Now! There's a party if I'd ever see one." She bid adieu to the boys and walked over to her fresh-meat prey. Marina was slumped on the ground, picking up the remnants of her presentation from the ruins of the table, all while trying to swat away a few beefcakes who had the gall to move close to her. As Sangria approached her little toy, one of them unintentionally blocked her way. "Not now, hun." The Valen ignored her and seemed to gaze down at Marina, breathing heavily. Did she notice? "You're getting much too into this party!" Sangria giggled and slapped his thick back, sending a surge of her sensory dampening towards the big man. Immediately, he lost his sense of balance and tumbled off to the side, landing with an extremely loud THUD. "Oooops. ❤" She carefully climbed over the body and crouched next to Marina, helping her pick up the pieces. "I have to say, hun, you certainly know how to start a party. Maybe I was wrong about you after all. ❤" "But to get all this attention towards you? Is this what humans do? Well, I'm sure you must be missing all the attention with the fact that the game never started after all, huh? A real shame, and I was looking forward to it!" Sangria picked up one of the sheets of paper and read it carefully before handing it to Marina. "Ooh. It looks like this game of yours really would have been something ... I can just imagine the explosive sense of passion it would have brought in those pawns." She put on a face of mock mourning as she picked up a few more things and placed them in a neat pile by Marina. "Maybe even more passionate than the game that brought you into existence, Coooooordinator ... ❤" The bartender, who had somehow recovered himself, was able to up and change the song. bagpipe romance fairwyn bar IIShe took a sip from her refilled glass of brandy. "Oh! ❤ It's your theme song!"
INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x x x x x ] "Hun." "Wha' d'ye wan' fur th' lass time?!" Sangria sipped her drink and looked calmly at the bartender. "Fairwyn has terrible taste in music." "Aye! An ye' think yer any better!" Sangria giggled. The bartender slammed the glass he was wiping hard on the bar counter. "Wha's tha' s'pposed ta mean, ye bloody strumpet?!" "You never answered my question. ❤" "Yer quesshin!" He grumbled, holding a vodka-stained palm to his head, keeling over closer to her. "I ain't wannan' answer 'em quesshins when yer puttin' this much pressure ta me!" Sangria absentmindedly hummed a song through the ridiculous music, stirring her finger in the glass of brandy. "Mmm ... the fact that you're the one whose been talking things in circles is evident of how far I'm getting with this business proposition, don'tcha think?" She took her finger out of the glass and touched her bottom lip gently. It was strong, yet very bitter. "Your product here is ... inadequate." The bartender breathed heavily. "YER FREAKIN' NOGGIN'S ON TAE BRAMBLE WI' STANKERIN'--" Sangria shushed him, and the bartender was suddenly released from his incessant headache. "Wha--" His breaths were shallow and quick, as if he finished swimming a mile. "What-- wh-- did--" "Shhhh. ❤" Sangria She felt a wisp of wind move past her hair, but she paid no attention to it. Sangria took another sip of her glass and closed her eyes. "Morji, my dear ..." Her voice was solemn, but she moved a silent hand to stroke the head of the quick-tempered little immortal next to her. "Let me show you how we do business with these boys. ❤" She drank the rest of the brandy in her glass, and reached over the counter to grab a pitcher of water. Ah, this will do. She poured some water into the empty glass, held it to the dim light of the bar, swirled it around a bit, and snapped her fingers. The water instantly turned a bright, sparkling chartreuse. Sangria placed the concoction down on the bar counter, in the direct view of the bartender. Mmm ... Sangria held her tongue out and tasted the air. She hovered her finger over the drink for a brief moment, before releasing it. "Try. ❤" The bartender shakily moved up from his chair. He spat something about how the lady was a witch, but Sangria was too fixated with a malevolent smile to pay any attention. He grabbed the glass in a shaky hand and brought it to his lips. Ah. Sangria looked to Morji with a smile and a wink. The bartender's eyes widened. His hand shook violently, and drops of liquid spilled out from the edge of his mouth. He let out an uncharacteristic squeak and felt his chest tighten, his body convulse, his heart and lungs collapse into his stomach for a split second as he seemed to see the soundwaves within the air itself. He slammed the drink down violently, cracking the glass and leaking the contents upon the counter, and he shut his eyes. "A--Aaaah ... aaah ... ❤" The bartender groaned in the pleasure that flowed through his blood, but it was mixed with the bitter tinge of burning pain through his throat. Sangria smiled coyly. Another one down. How easy these fools where. "Well then," She looked nonchalantly at her nails. "How did you enjoy the sensation of experiencing what the world actually feels like, hun? ❤ Allow me to dampen the effect, just a bit." She pointed her index finger at the bartender, mouthed a "pew", and numbed his senses with her powers. "Now ... this particular absinthe would do very well here, and as I said before, the products of Kantharos are one of a kind. Do you understand now, dear? Why my alcohol cannot be compared in all of Aether? Why all you fools indulge in it because not even immortals can escape the pleasure? Not even immortals wish to always be honest with themselves?" Sangria stood up, her work accomplished. The bartender attempted to mouth something in reply but the entire ordeal left him tired and defen--ACK INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x ] A meatloaf of a Fairwyn Valen, dressed in the attire of a Landsknecht without a shirt, came sailing through the air, smashing into the bar counter and sending much of its contents flying. The bartender rolled over beneath the counter and Sangria quickly grabbed Morji to keep her safe. What was this idiocy? This ridiculous bar filled with fools, philistines, uncouth individuals who needed some ... taming. Taming. ❤ Sangria growled at the idiot who ruined everything on the table. She looked around to see where it was all coming from, and saw-- Was that-- "M--Magnus?" She facepalmed. Looking for her drink and picking up the ... shards of glass? No, she couldn't. Sangria walked behind the counter and stole a glass. "Get up, you buffoon." She kicked the bartender who was on the ground, straight in the groin, but with her sensory dampening from before, he would feel only a simple wince at best. "What kind of establishment owner are you if you can't even protect your goods from ruffians?--" "FUCK MAN" Sangria looked up. The huge Fairwyn Valen was sitting on a broken section of the bar covered in tattered clothes, the music blasting, his silvery black locks tinged with sweat. "Hey, big boy." The Valen turned. "Can you keep it quiet for a bit?" "YO MAN **** OFF. DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO. YOU *******S COME STORMING IN HERE AND ****IN' THAT GUY --" He points to Magnus. "STARTS TOSSIN' MAH BOYS THIS WAY AND THA--FUCK" Another Valen came sailing through the air and collided directly with his face. Both Valens were sent flying backward behind the bar counter. Sangria quickly kicked the bartender out of the way, but in the midst of it, a tower of shot glasses on the side fell directly on top of her. INTOXICATION [ x x x x ] Uguguhghguguuuuugh this was fucking ridiculous. She lifted herself up from off the field of broken glass and tried to climb over the bar, straightening her fiery locks. Where the hell did that idiot go-- Another Valen, this time dressed in a half-ripped white t-shirt, sailed through the air. Sangria tried to follow the path of his landing, only to wince at that idiot dufflebag smashing directly into poor Marina's table, breaking it in half. She would have giggled, if not for the fact that Fairwyn's world famous bar was a pathetic excuse of a riot. She bit the bottom of her lip, dulling the sensation of pain she felt in the cuts on her hands and arms after landing in the broken glass, and walked over to the only other imbecile who could control the fool. "Dear." Sangria sat directly in front of Asterion, a stern expression on her face. "Do you think you could control the big baby there?" "He's ... disturbing my business time. And our information session. I always knew these fools were pretentious, but I never thought of them as savages as well, huh, Asterion?" She grabbed one of the misplaced glasses left by some other buffoon who had his backside kicked on the table, snapped her fingers to change the water molecules in the watered-down cocktail into straight shiraz, and downed it quickly. INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x x ]
m u s i c fairwyn bar I, Gotterdammerung, have to admit that if I bore the capacity of neural development that the immortals possessed at the moment, then I would be in the possession of a dire headache. Not simply from the Blazing Victory tavern that we had found ourselves in, with its obnoxious clientele cheering loudly at the video-vision screens over the blood sport they displayed for games since these immortals were immortal, and the very presence of us outsiders by the other ends of the bar being extremely bothersome and unconventional from how I, Gotterdammerung, noticed the stares of the few Guards and Landsknechts in patronage to this establishment gazing at us out of the corner of their eyes, but perhaps it was through my Mimi-mistress that this very sense of uncomfortable nervousness would be present. If I, Gotterdammerung, could feel it, of course. Unfortunately, we were to stay here for a while. I stayed by my Mimi-mistress, through which I felt a slight emanation from glum attitude. Oddly for herself, indeed. I, Gotterdammerung, noticed how here she seemed to wish to sit closer to the others, but primarily because she was intent on contacting the others who were still stuck in the castle, to their unfortunate degree. I, Gotterdammerung, noticed that most of the time she simply strained to hear. It came in broken chunks, and her face contorted, she puffed her cheeks, lowered her brow in concentration, looking particularly at nothing but deeply attempting to understand the words that the speedy immortal relayed to her. I, Gotterdammerung, mused that it would be tough work with the amount of delay and white noise that the negation effects of the crumbling castle provided. Eventually, I noticed that my Mimi-mistress appeared to have an expression similar to blissful satisfaction on her face, and through my connection I felt like expressing something similar to laughter, if I, Gotterdammerung, knew how to laugh. She promptly relayed to me the information that the immortals had gathered in their time. I paced back and forth by my mistress. What did this all mean? At times, I, Gotterdammerung, would look to her, but that small smile on her face revealed little. I, Gotterdammerung, queried my mistress on how we would be able to inform the others in the bar with this obnoxious noise and music. My Mimi-mistress, the greatest and kindest of all mistresses, simply led me near the table of the immortal who was once the Coordinator; however, she did not stray close enough to get the Coordinator's attention. I was very curious, or as curious as my construction would allow me to be. I, Gotterdammerung, noticed here that the location of the table was approximately in the center of the bar. The music was very loud here, but my Mimi-mistress stood close to the table and asked me to keep quiet. So I, Gotterdammerung, being the most loyal of all servants, complied. ... The dungeon party is safe. They are out of the castle. By water and a beach. My mistress blocked out all noise, and whispered something to herself. It was the explanation, and it was short enough to reach the ears of the relevant immortals in the area, cutting through the music, reaching their heads, almost like whispering directly in their ears through air. My mistress enjoyed bending the strings of speech when needed be. Of course, the radius of this reduced exponentially each few meters, and I, Gotterdammerung, would be lying if I did not say that the relevant Players at the very end of the bar would hear an incomprehensible whisper come to my mistress. But as she stood there, quietly talking to herself, I, Gotterdammerung, simply hoped that they would react. For the disappointment of this separation ran deep within the heart of my Mimi-mistress. But at the same time, it was thick-set and grounded, as if it had existed for as long as I had known her. - - - - - - - - - -
INTOXICATION [ x x x x x x x ] It was all of a sudden. Quick, like the feel of whiskey downed in a shot glass. Sangria darted her eyes around. Though the bell had stopped, the little collection of Players had found the entire castle surrounded by a deal of miscellaneous folks that bore the distinctive skin-bearing wear of ... She wrinkled her nose. "Fairwyn?" It was a burst of colour in an otherwise simple world of monochrome marble. The unmistakable citizens of that godforsaken land of pretentiousness had strut in with their gaudy mishmash of patterns and colours, ripped and torn fabric covering their bodies like neanderthals who had slain and taken the pelts of highlighters and children's crayon drawings.[1] Mounds of muscle and flesh, male and female alike, adorned these veritable picturesque statues of an unattainable perfection, and rippled with the seething anger of something having to disturb their absolutely perfect lives of the Court of Fairwyn, was it? Sangria sighed and rubbed her head. This wasn't what she wanted when coming this close to the hall. She turned and watched as members of their little Elite Guard stepped in -- they brought the Elite Guard here? -- Sangria never needing to me reminded of their absolutely classless "uniforms" that, with their swaths of colourful, patterned capes, wide-brimmed hats, and absolute lack of anything that can be called protective anywhere beyond the few sensitive areas made Valen all over know well enough that these folk existed just to show themselves off more than have the need to protect themselves. Who would need to, with that much unmatched power? These Elite Guard were a subset -- the "best of the best" -- of a kind of mercenary army controlled by the Fairwynians that de facto tried establishing some sort of control or order over the waypoints between territories, but in reality it meant all of Aether had a roving band of overpowered bullies dressed in gaudy ridiculousness that looted, pillaged, and generally possessed the audacity to do whatever the fuck they wanted. They called themselves the Landsknechts, but that could well enough be Fairwynian for "asshole".[2] Sangria had made it a point many ages ago, when these rambunctious little kids tried screwing around with her employees and her business propositions, that she would make sure they couldn't even touch her little parcel of land, but with the expansion of her own and the continuous expansion of the monstrosity that Fairwyn was, it proved harder and harder as time went on. The leader, a beefcake of a man whose horns shot through his hat and curled perpendicular to his silver-black hair walked over to Annalynne and smugly took control of the situation. Sangria snorted. Casden, what's gotten into you? She watched as the commander looked through Marina's papers, silently judging the contents with a fixated gaze, and Sangria turned to her Coordinator prey. "Sorry to say, hun, but we won't be continuing the game of yours anytime soon." Sangria let off a dishonest shrug. She walked by Casden and briefly told him about the collapse of a handful of towers, and more importantly, how it definitely wasn't their fault, nor was it the fault of the new Coordinator. She moved away from the guards and walked to the doors, being held open by two sour-faced guards that stood taller even than all six feet of her. Sangria let out a quiet breath. In front of her stood the entire pack of ... potential party animals? Mmm. She smiled and turned to the others, who having just recovered from the collapse of the castle, were still the in Foyer. "Dears ..." "Clearly, we've gotten off on the wrong foot." Sangria giggled at the silly nonsense she was sputtering. "And I'm positive all you big boys and girls can make some sound judgments, right? ❤ There's a ... fundamental problem with the castle, so why not leave it to the ... reassurance of the almiiiiiighty Elite Guard to clear things up? Please do excuse our new Coordinator, as the state of the castle was anything but her fault. ❤" All throughout this time, Sangria gently moved her ring finger by her hand, slowly, slowly, dampening the senses of the group so they would be more accepting. It only worked little buy little, and the power of the castle was still fairly weakening out here, but it wasn't as bad as the middle of the halls. "Now," She rose her head to the sky. Where did fly-boy go ... "I hear ... Fairwyn has bars that rival my own. Let's loosen up and talk things over drinks, won't you say? The others are still stuck by the trapdoor, and moving too far away might be a problem if they need help. Not to mention --" She cast her glance as Casden, who continued looking over the papers. "-- These bozos are probably wanting to keep an eye on us to make sure we don't get out of hand. It might do us well to talk about what we all found properly, too." She moved away from the Players and walked back to the crowd, putting her sunglasses back on. "Ta." Sangria stepped down the stairs and outside into the sea of neon patterns. Many of those face-punching imbeciles in the mob glared at her angrily, but any act of physical violence was restrained by the Elite Guard, and she glided her way through the crowd at the very end of the path, shooting the fools cold looks all the while. Serves them right. Fairwyn could be a good target to establish new operations ... The end of the path led to an ornate door that seemed to stand upright by itself on the edge of one of the palace's ridges. Next to it, she was surprised to see the red-veiled handmaiden she had seen waking up before this entire calamity. "You?" She gazed at her from behind her lenses." "Greetings, brewmistress." Sangria crossed her arms and looked down at the short girl. "... How go operations in Kantharos, hun?" The handmaiden scratched her head momentarily, before quickly replying. "36 distilleries created in the past week operating at approximately 88.3% capacity. The acquisitions of the Woad Crest and Twerking Waifu Tavern establishments have been successful, and both are now exclusively selling products produced in Kantharos. Oak shipments from Phantasmagoria have been delayed by two days but are on the move between waypoint lines at the moment." Sangria's face was flat. She wanted to ask how this girl got here, but she realized that a few of her employees might have been here the entire time ... "What have you been doing here, dear? I am simply ... curious. ❤" The handmaiden smiled. "Scouting." "Oh? ❤" "Yes, brewmistress." She took off her sunglasses and cleaned them with her sleeve. "The thief was alright in the end, then?" The handmaiden nodded. "Yes. He attempted to impress me by showing a little trick of some sort." Sangria giggled. "Are the others with you?" "The butlers are continuing their efforts in Fairwyn." "My my ..." She held the tip of the sunglasses' arms to her bottom lip. "You seem very excited, dear." "I am, brewmistress." "Are you now?" "Yes." She gazed at the girl's red veil. "What's your name, hun?" The handmaiden hesitated, seemingly deep in thought. "... C-- Chardonnay." "Chardonnay ..." She rolled the name on her tongue, tasting it deeply. "You're a lovely employee, Chardonnay, for taking all this effort upon yourself." "I only aim to please my brewmistress." "That's right ..." Sangria placed a hand on her shoulder and looked back at the door. "Chardonnay ... I feel that things might be changing in Aether." "How do you mean, brewmistress?" Sangria gazed backwards at the castle. The bell was not visible from this far below, and the towers stretched into the sky, their ends blending into the cloudy peach gradient. "I simply mean, I may not be back in Kantharos for a good while. Chardonnay, it'd be mighty fine if you continued to keep me updated about what was going on there, hun. ❤ I don't want my people to lose the pleasure they all love, after all." Chardonnay lowered her head. "Of course, brewmistress." Sangria stroked her hair and quickly pecked her cheek. "Mm. For somebody who lost their name a long time ago, it was smart of you to name yourself this." "I only aim to please the brewmistress." Chardonnay made a deep bow. Sangria walked in front of her and made her own deep bow. For once, this broke the handmaiden's concentration, and she shot back up, startled. "What--" "Ta. ❤" Sangria went into the doorway-portal thing to get to Fairwyn and the bar. Things were indeed changing. But if it meant everything would still continue like it was in this terrible hell of a world, after all this effort, then what was the point of the changes? She frowned. [1] [2]
