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Boots Of Chinese Plastic
08-23-2020, 02:18 AM (This post was last modified: 08-24-2020, 10:37 AM by Satchel.)
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#1
Satchel
Whoa! Every drop that run through the vein
Always makes it's way back to the heart again
He was starting to have his doubts about this place.

He had still yet to discover every inch of these strange lands, a sickness spreading in his veins the longer he went without proper answers. Molten hues juxtaposed on a white canvas, his paws touching down on the harsh earth light as a whisper and almost just as dead. He only really had attachment to the small silver male, where ever he may be now. He was utterly alone on a ball of mud floating through an empty universe spinning round and round on a relentless path towards nowhere.

Night was crisp, still clinging to the heat of the day. He was lost, at least as lost as one could get. Summer would eat him alive if he wasn't careful, a sacrifice for the seasons hunger that scorched him to the bone. A vast inky blackness hung above, a faint outline of grey promising summer storms. Already he could smell the rot, desperate to claim ignorance, a teasing respite to the heat that permeated everything with in himself. His pale hide illuminated by the fickle stars, his heart thrumming dangerously in his chest. He felt the urge to shout out loud, but it would be wasted on deaf ears.

His paws sunk into the soft earth, still slightly burnt from the days travels. They itched something fierce, forcing him to linger out in the open as he inspected every inch. Slowly he lifted a forepaw up to his maw, licking the pad tenderly to provide some relief. A stale wind was blowing through, the only living breathing thing for miles was him. He needed to find a decent place to sleep, but he had a rather strange feeling this was going to turn into a very long night.

And by the way you look fantastic in your boots of Chinese plastic
code by chip

08-24-2020, 06:32 AM (This post was last modified: 08-24-2020, 06:41 AM by Esmeray.)
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#2
Esmeray de Agnor Valencia —

The Gallows were often an uninhabited area. A land where traitors, thieves, murderers, and Harbingers were made to be remembered by a the noose that would sway as the wind blew. A remembrance of their crime and a warning to those who looked upon the place where their last breath had been taken. It was not a stretch to say that this place was cursed or haunted by the ghosts of the dead. The air here was oddly heavy and stifling. A bad omen to put it simply.

Today was not a celebration of a Harbinger being brought to justice, yet Esmeray would find her eyes settling upon a soul still alive. A peculiar encounter as the Gallows were not often a place where one would meet to become acquaintances. Out of sheer curiosity, the monochromatic Noble would find herself drawn to the man whose attention too focused upon finding something or somewhere.

"I do not believe the Gallows will have what you are seeking for," the woman mused. Her tone silky and betrayed no ill intent nor good will. Blue tidal waves would clash with his crimson eyes. Eyes so bright that they even shown in the midst of the night. "Unless you are looking for the remains of sinners."

Only when the Noblewoman drew closer would she recognize that this man was not of high stature. Perhaps a beggar who could not find work in the Capital or a thief whose abilities were lackluster.

Yet all of these felt wrong. He did not seem to be a man who was a part of society. Not the one that she knew of.

"Tell me, stranger, what is it you seek?"

"Speaking"

Code by Dusk



08-24-2020, 10:07 AM
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#3
Satchel
Whoa! Every drop that run through the vein
Always makes it's way back to the heart again
He hadn't exactly been expecting company.

Shifting through the constant ruins, a sense of foreboding entirely ignored. He should not be here, if he for once answered instinct it might perhaps become perfectly clear. But who was he to ignore curiosity? No hesitation as he swung his gaze upon her. Wondering perhaps who she might be.

A slight scrutiny took hold, if only for a moment. He then reminded himself that not everything was the worst. A sudden appreciation for a voice to respond too, he paused in consideration. "I suppose as much, but isn't it the same story everywhere? wondering what her story was, he attempted to display netrarality. Another pretty face, passing along the way. " If that's the truth, then the only thing left is myself." a slight inhale, grounding as much as he knew how.

Before he answered the next inquiry, he decided to attempt one of his own. Another careful look, and then. "Tell me stranger, just who might you be?" moving Slightly off center, awaiting for what he didn't know. It was so terribly hard to make friends. After all was gone. Not sure if he was once again coming off to strong, he lingered close. Hopefully this might turn out better then the rest.

And by the way you look fantastic in your boots of Chinese plastic
code by chip

08-24-2020, 03:48 PM
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#4
Esmeray de Agnor Valencia —

"If that's the truth, then the only thing left is myself."

White tipped audits flicked once to this rather dark response. His words drew her suspicion that he did not come from the Capital or the kingdom in general. Perhaps an illegitimate child borne out of secrecy and left to die in the outskirts of the land, only to survive and speak to her now. It was not an uncommon story to be heard. A story told so often it had lost the ability to garner sympathy, at least from her.

Her question lay unanswered, or if answered, an answer so convoluted in words that she could not grasp it in the first hearing. A moment of silence came from the man as he chose his words carefully before imploring,

"Tell me stranger, just who might you be?"


Now, Esmeray could not help but blink in surprise. How long had it been since her ears had heard that question? So long to the point that it seemed foreign and only confirmed the woman's suspicions that he was not a citizen or that he had newly acquired the title of citizenship for even the beggars knew the Nobles at first glance. If not by name than by stature.

"Esmery de Agnor Valencia of House Valencia," the woman responded. There was no hidden pride or secret animosity towards the name as she spoke. Rather, a specific and almost infinitesimally small change of tone that indicated that the phrase was almost rehearsed a thousand times while looking at the mirror. "But you can call me stranger, only when there is no one around," she enticed.

It was usually now that other's would ask for a name so that the exchange be equal and complete, but Esmeray would not. There was a veil of mystery that surrounded the man that she did not yet want to uplift as well as a veil of suspicion that he cloaked himself in. The latter of which she knew she would have to pull from him sooner or later and willingly or forcibly.

"I will not ask for your name." Not now at least. "The night is nigh. Why don't you come rest at my home? We can offer you proper accommodations for the night and we can speak more tomorrow."

A seemingly kind offer from the eyes of the onlooker, but those who knew the woman would know better than to pinpoint this action of the whims of generosity. With the recent capture of the Harbringer (whose arrogance so bold that he trespassed on royal grounds and paid the price for it), The Order had been more restless than usual. Her extended helping hand was simply to keep the man close and thus, easier to observe.

But if he took it as an offer of friendship, who was she to correct him?

"Speaking"

Code by Dusk



08-28-2020, 02:31 AM
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#5
Satchel
Whoa! Every drop that run through the vein
Always makes it's way back to the heart again

He watched her rather stiffly, cursing himself for his suspicion.

Surprised then as she offered up her name, ears flung forth to scoop up every syllable. A rather striking title for a rather striking woman. Despite it all, he couldn't help but fall right back into curiosity again. Offering to remain a stranger, and for now perhaps that was best. After all if he had ever had any success in making friends it didn't really show did it?

He was painfully aware of his condition, and how the rest of integrated society viewed such things. Ironically he had no desire to converes with the gods in fact as far as he was concerned they made things more inconvenient then it was worth. But what use was it to explain himself to the rest? Things were slow to change, if at all. He shifted ever slightly, a slow burn building between them.

He accepted her offer to decline a name, a simple snort in response. " What sort of name do I look like to you?" She could call him whatever she wanted. At this point a name was just a name. However he was not sure about going home with her, evidence written all over his face. " And just where is home for you? he knew a little of the Order and the intentions they held. Orange eyes aflame in the dark, wondering how long this dance might continue.

.

And by the way you look fantastic in your boots of Chinese plastic
code by chip

08-28-2020, 06:35 PM (This post was last modified: 08-28-2020, 06:36 PM by Esmeray.)
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#6
Esmeray de Agnor Valencia

What sort of name do I look like to you?

There was no real need to ponder upon this question for a list of names came to mind. All of which held the same meaning but were different to the ear. From vagrant to vagabond, Esmeray thought of it all, but she would settle on a different and more eloquent choice of words. "Wayfarer suits you well." In the end, the two had only established that he was a wanderer without a home and a wanderer who had yet to achieve citizenship by the King's order.

And Just where is home for you?

Her head tilted ever so slightly at the question. Where most would've accepted the offer graciously, the man was cautious — maybe a little too cautious for Esmeray's liking. She couldn't help but wonder if his past included mistreatment as a guest or some other variation of such. Or did he fear that she was a woman who dove into the morally grey or morally wrong eccentrics? If such were the case than he should've made residence in the Dewforge Mountains for the city was filled to the brim with questionable conducts once the sun began to set.

"Near the Citadel where the King resides," she would state. Under normal circumstances, no more information would be needed as the Citadel and the surrounding areas were most heavily influenced by the resident Nobles. The further out one were to go, however, the less polished the floors would be and beggars and the lower class would begin to dominate the population.

"Is there a problem with where I choose to make my home?" She would question with the semblance of a smile, but the question was more than what it appeared to be on the surface.


. . . of House Valencia

Code by Dusk



09-05-2020, 04:14 AM (This post was last modified: 09-05-2020, 04:29 AM by Satchel.)
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#7
Satchel
Whoa! Every drop that run through the vein
Always makes it's way back to the heart again

The king.

She resided with the very being who might seek to destroy such dear things as his own beloved Twig. However his poker face was on the game, and instead of recoilling he instead offered up a nod of respect. Clearing his throat, he began to suspect the more questions he asked the worse it might be. She was as shrewd and sharp as his own heart, and that deserved any amount respect as far as he knew.

" Not a problem at all dear, forgive my manners at such late an hour." his voice silky smooth, he decided to break the tension returning a favor. "Satchel." he offered up with a simple grunt, enjoying the sudden spike in the breeze, remembering that he had something stashed away that might make them both less so volatile. A small curious smile, but either it was already too or just the beginning.

" Say, do like mushrooms?" he managed a nonchalant look over at the small creek that trickled faintly. "I'm a healer, and these are pretty good." good as in tripping, but wasn't it more fun with strangers? Astounded at how easy it might be to just breath, if only he dare allow himself.
.

And by the way you look fantastic in your boots of Chinese plastic
code by chip

09-07-2020, 02:01 AM
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#8
Esmeray de Agnor Valencia

Though undoubtedly unimportant to the man, the word dear had a particular effect on Esmeray. Seldom did such doting and saccharine words fall upon her ears. Yet they would not wrap her heart in a blanket of warmth nor allow a faint pink to tint her visage. Rather, they made her uncomfortable as if such words were hiding something far more sinister. In the end, poison was poison no matter how sweet it is.

Satchel, the man would offer and her white audits flicked in acknowledgement of their completed exchange of names.

Say, do you like mushrooms? I'm a healer and these are pretty good.

Her brilliant eyes would follow his gaze to a small bubbling rivulet that resonated softly in the midsummer night. She was certainly no shaman, but she was quite positive that mushrooms were not a frequent item that healers used — mainly because of the resemblance many of them shared with lethal fungi. Rather, the agaricus was one she often found in the crypts of the Marketplace, specifically a place for drug dealing.

"I can not say I have ever tried one," the woman responded truthfully. She was, however, interested. It was an act that many Nobles (albeit they would always deny such an abominable accusation) engaged in. They would all share a variety of experiences from claiming that it would dampen their melancholy to sharing visions of the impossible. If she had the audacity to speak candidly to them, she would've accentuated what fools they made of themselves. She had yet to dive into the atrocious and addicting pleasures of life.

"I'm not quite sure how to intake it. I fear I may bring the opposite effect of what is meant to come," added the Noble delicately. "Perhaps you'd care to demonstrate?" Tempting or not, she was a wary creature. Cautious of the unknown and this man was a part of that category.



. . . of House Valencia

Code by Dusk



09-07-2020, 07:01 AM
  Reply  | 
#9
Satchel
Whoa! Every drop that run through the vein
Always makes it's way back to the heart again

Perhaps things were not so difficult after all.

He had temporarily seized up at the thought of tyranny, but she seemed ok enough. After everything, she had not called for a gaurd. Her intelligent a rare occasion, forgive him please for his doubt. Why did he desire such a location? Why do anything at all. Such a small snort, but honestly what was the cost?

It was hard to trust.

Anything really. Absolute fight would be needed for him to give up Twig status. However he felt perhaps she might be a little more graceful then the other's. She claimed to not have tried a shroom and he believed. With a simple toss of his head, down he went to the bank. Oh how long had it been? Inhaling the musk, the IRONY, that he a harbinger might dare set upon these soils. Personal reflection, he was in no denial of what he was. Words do bright it was hard to breath.

She asked for proof, and for that he understood. You can never be to careful. " Alright then." wadding down to a very shallow deposit not to far off, he proceeded to dig into the earth. Emerging with a fungus of red and white caliber, he neatly spat them out. A slow look away, and then.

He consumed three mushrooms, and offered, " Perhaps the same?" he meant amount wise, after all he was just trying to enjoy things not fuck everyone up completely. Stretching out like a cat, a slow groom, ready to sail despite it all.

.

And by the way you look fantastic in your boots of Chinese plastic
code by chip

09-08-2020, 04:04 PM
  Reply  | 
#10
Esmeray de Agnor Valencia

Alright then.

Without another word, the man would make way to the creek. His paws scuffling in the dimly lit night as the two relied on nothing but the Luna's light. If she were to be candid, she had expected the man to hesitate on some ineffectual vindication. Proof that his intents were malevolent, but today it would seem that her mind remained cautious over the wrong things. The man consumed the mushrooms — to be specific, three. Azure eyes contracted, waiting to see some vile response to the fungi. Foam to fizzle from the mouth or a sudden barrage of tears flowing from the man's eyes.

Perhaps the same?

"Ah —" she had been staring too long "— yes." Without further complaint, the woman bent down and consumed just as many gingerly. They tasted as she had expected, earthy and damp. Yet, the texture of a mushroom was something she couldn't decide whether she liked or not. It was soft but easy to bite off and it left a strange scent in her mouth that she could not quite place. A small part of her fell into disappointment as she expected the recreational nostrum to be more sudden. She had expected hallucinations and euphoria to come almost instantly.

But nothing came.

Upon finishing her midnight snack, the woman would seize the man's gaze and attention once more. "Are these slow affecting ones?" Her salmon hued tongue licked the edges of her lips, cleaning any remains if any at all. Even if she was engaging in a rather derogatory act, it was no reason to fail to uphold a few hygienic standards. "What are the effec—" and then it hit. A feeling so subtle, so foreign she didn't realize it at first, but the feeling was certainly there the moment she took the mushrooms. A feeling she had originally thought to be the doing of placebo. But it wasn't. Her vocabulary too limited to describe such a feeling, but all she could come to terms was that it felt good and unlike anything she had experienced.

"What other effects are there," she corrected herself. She searched his body for similar results. Some twitch, some sudden jolt to indicate that he had felt the same. Perhaps his senses had been numbed as a result of constant consummation or the reason being in their difference in size.


. . . of House Valencia

Code by Dusk



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