Open this FUCKING DOOR
Edrei Launceleyn
the Rapacious
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds / Rathskeller Owner

Age: 21 | Height: 5'7 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 21 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 3
BOBI - Regular - Bobcat
Played by: Odd Offline
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#1
EDREI
happy ending? sorry this isn't disney.
Edy hadn't even carried a dead body before. As much as she didn't want to believe it, it seemed like Amalia was cooling in arms as she stomped through the snow. "Oh no you fucking don't." the teenager grunted through grit teeth. Fire bloomed around the pair like a bubble, with Amalia's fish swimming bizarrely behind. Could the monsters see it? Probably. But Edy was about ready to barbecue the ever loving fuck out of anyone who got in her way, so rather than being cautious, she was being brazen as all hell.

In her mind, she just kept playing the scene at the perch over and over and over again. Who the fuck even cared about some mythical ass bird and what had happened to its perch. How the fuck was that at all important?

She didn't know. She couldn't understand. All her mind was focused on was how she was going to get the Rathskeller crew to open the door. Luckily though, she had just enough magic in her to force her way in, if they wouldn't let her.

All but collapsing against the door, Edy kicked the bottom of it several times with her boot. "OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR. IT'S EDY AND THE BOSSY LIBRARIAN BITCH AND I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S DEAD AND I SWEAR TO ALL THE RANDOM ASS GODS IN THIS PLACE IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR I WILL EXPLODE IT TO SHIT AND THEN WE'LL ALL BE FUCKED."

#tact #charisma #silvertongue
Bastien De Rosieres
Guildmaster / Artist

Age: 34 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 7
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
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#2

Bastien quite liked getting to look over the bar by himself. When it was his little kingdom he got to rule it as he wanted, position the bottles how he liked and have easy conversations without Edy's constant oh so witty commentary (he was actually rather fond of her, especially after their...intimate encounters, but she could still irritate the hell out of him on the wrong day).

"So, have you seen Remi? He's been having a very eventful da--" He was telling a patron when there was a loud thumping at the bar. Immediately, automatically, a hush fell over the room as everyone looked to each other: Another monster? Another trick? Another Ronin?

Confidently (not at all how he felt, but someone had to be) Bastien walked to the door to listen, but it turned out he didn't have to listen very hard. The unmistakable voice of Edy spoke out. He had no idea who the 'bossy librarian bitch' was, but she sounded desperate so he quickly set about undoing the latches and locks.

"Be patient, signora infuocata. There are a lot of locks." But finally he did get it open, swinging the door wide for Edy to come in with Amalia then shutting it right behind her. As he caught sight of them his eyes widened. "What happened to you!?"

bastien
Baby, lay me down and let's pray
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 29 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 28
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#3
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
It was the screaming that roused him from any drunken stupor; he’d gone through lifetimes of hellish howling, funeral dirges, requiems unleashed from grief, from anguish, from absolute rage. This one echoing beyond the wooden frame coiled in his gut, and he narrowed his eyes, following the traces of backdrop echoes and bestial glows; rising from his favored stool and listening to the bellows from outside.

It wasn’t a haunting, melancholy call, made by sirens or monsters lurking in the midnight threads. It was a demand, a command, and the more he listened to the words bounding back and forth, the alarm fizzled against his brain. Apprehension wasn’t an agreeable thought pulsing and winding through his mind; he much preferred the cold-blooded machinations and intentions, the meticulous grind of calculations clawing their way down his spine; but this, this was not a preference, and if he wasn’t so damned curious he might’ve ignored it altogether. But it festered there, too long, and he could feel the consternation building in his fists as he curled and uncurled them, at the pieces of dread making their way through his veins.

Quickly, he was behind Bastien as the other was undoing the locks, scrambling to get the ones he might’ve missed. He was swift, but the terror grabbing hold of him (eerily familiar, a beast he thought he’d pushed back ages before), made everything seem slow, cumbersome, and overbearing, and he grit his teeth against the onslaught pervading his thoughts. What happened? Because he knew who the librarian was, but he was so painfully, stupidly unaware of what had lurked between the annals and columns of the Long Night’s stretch; of the veils and dangers, of the treacheries lurking behind teeth, tongue, and hope. Bastien asked for him anyway.

His piercing stare simply took in the scene. He didn’t say anything. In truth, it didn’t really matter what had occurred. Amalia was lifeless. Edrei was screaming. The world had battered and bruised another set of individuals, and he didn’t have the skills to mend, heal, or assuage. He could only drain life away, and that wasn’t needed or required here.

The Reaper swallowed, offered his arms, his bulk, his might, to carry Amalia in further, and tried to clear out an area to lay her down. “What needs to be done?” His voice was calm, betraying naught of the twist and turns in his throat; he breathed, he inhaled, sharp and distinct, as if he’d seen this a hundred times before.

master of nothing place
of recoil and grace
Edrei Launceleyn
the Rapacious
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds / Rathskeller Owner

Age: 21 | Height: 5'7 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 21 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 3
BOBI - Regular - Bobcat
Played by: Odd Offline
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#4
EDREI
happy ending? sorry this isn't disney.
"I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT YOU'D HAVE FASTER FINGERS BASTIEN" Edy screamed, the panic real now. Fire around her was one thing and might have kept the librarian's body warm, but it did nothing for the way it emphasized just how pale her cheeks had become.

As soon as the door was opened, Edy burst through. She looked wild; covered in ash, sweat, bleeding only slightly, her hair a tornado around her head. Crazily and almost without seeing, she staggered into Deimos, her arms shaking as she tried to deposit Amalia into his arms. Looking towards Bastien with wide eyes that looked like they'd lost all semblance of humanity, there was only one name on her lips. "Vai—"

The word was a mumble, and then finally, in the comfort of the only place that had ever properly taken her in, surrounded by faces she was familiar with, Edy fucking screamed: "VAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Hand of the Queen / Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 12 - Strg: 34 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 34
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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#5
Amalia
I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map
I knew that somehow I could find my way back
Dead. She is dead.

Amalia does not move. Edy does- she runs and bumps and screams and flames, and though these things should bother Amalia, they really and truly do not. Her heart does not beat; her breath does not stir. Her blood, once hot and heavy and ready to rush at the slightest provocation, sits and stagnates within her veins. The sunlit girl is going dark.

Or nearly.

Somewhere deep within her, something flickers. A synapse fires; a muscle twitches. A dream, perhaps, of what life is supposed to feel like- or is it a memory? A deep voice, a warm hand, a pair of vibrant eyes. Mother? No, her mother would not be here. Sentimental deathbed visions were never Rishima's style.

Grandmother? In the darkness, a face, crisscrossed with laugh lines, brown and worn. It hurts to look at (or is she feeling it? Tasting? Smelling the familiar crusty bread and fresh tilled earth, jasmine flowers and wood?), yet she cannot turn away, cannot think or dream or yearn for anything else. A voice - her voice - calls out in silence. "Nani? Nani, shut the door, I'm cold-"

No, the voice is not hers- or it isn't hers as it is now. It is her as she was: young, hopeful, full of youth and vigor and curiosity and life, always on the woman's heels, always ready to help. She can see that child (she is that child), standing in the bitter cold, her grandmother a silhouette in a darkened doorway. Why is it so dark outside?

"Nani, please, don't go-"

"I have to beti. I'll be back soon."

A hand on her arm. A voice in her ear. She pulls against it, and in the real world her body moves, a spasm of electricity stimulating musculature. Life? Questionably. It stops quickly as it occurred, but it's something, something more than nothing.

She pulls again, and the hand comes loose. The door is empty now, swinging open, but it isn't dark. It glows, pulses with a red halo of warmth, a promise, a whisper, a haunting and tempting song. It calls with a voice - her grandmother's voice - and Amalia takes a step toward it, yearning. "Nani?" she questions, tears on her tongue.

Beyond that door is everything she has ever wanted. Peace. Happiness. Family. Love. Beyond that door is her grandmother, her mother. Beyond that door is death.
Then I heard your heart beating,
you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you
Vervain Calob
Witch

Age: 37 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 8
Played by: Honey Offline
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#6

There was a sleeping fucking baby in an underground world chock full of people with monsters crowing outside, and Edrei wanted to scream her fucking name? Vai was ready to shake the Launceleyn when she rushed out from the back room of the Rathskeller, her wild curls loose around her face, her sleeves rolled to the elbow and a face like thunder. "What?" she all but hissed through the silence that had dropped over the tavern.

Then she spotted Amalia, and Deimos and Bastien gathered by the door. All thoughts of gagging Edy with one of the rags from the bar left her mind - instantly, Vai moved to one of the larger tables, barking orders for people to move and to move their shit off the table at the same time. "Put her here," she said quickly, already rubbing her hands together as if to warm them up.

Blue eyes flashed to Deimos and Bastien. "Make sure that door is locked tight," she said. "Then if you two fine gentlemen would come over here and hold the lady still, I would appreciate it. Once I start to heal her she might regain consciousness, and I'm worried she'll move around too much."

vervain
I am always on your side
Air Manipulation (Upgraded) - Base Healing (Upgraded) - Fire Manipulation (Basic)
Bastien De Rosieres
Guildmaster / Artist

Age: 34 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 7
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
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#7

Bastien was already very keen on making sure the door was shut tight, having had the reality of Longnight proven to him several times over now. He wasn't about to dismiss it as a fairytale again, not after seeing someone die right by the door and taking Ronin in. He made sure every latch, chain and lock was back in place before he turned to the rest of group.

"Apologies, Signora." He mumbled as he hooked his arms around Amalia, one around her waist and the other holding back one arm. As dead as she looked it felt disrespectful to not apologise. He didn't hold on too tight, almost certain Vervain could not bring her back enough for it to be a problem.

Once Deimos had grasped hold as well he nodded to Vervain to start her magic.

bastien
Baby, lay me down and let's pray
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 29 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 28
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#8
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Death was familiar; an old friend he’d never greeted with open arms. He’d seen it across the battlefield, swift and sudden, a grasping, clenching tide until everything stilled, paled, became the epitome of silence. It might’ve been a knife or arrow through the chest. It could’ve been the slide of a spear, the guttural spark and gurgle of one last, lingering breath. Sometimes he’d been the one to cause it, a fierce, bestial, barbaric unleashing of rage or wrath, all part of his existence, a feral rhythm to his occupation. Other moments it’d been his comrades, his family, the part where he physically grieved and became an unrelenting, vicious force, but death never listened, never cared, never did anything but watch as one more took their place elsewhere, as souls drifted in quiet, hushed tandem, as they left the world, and so many others, behind. Once, he’d growled and roared against the onslaught, but now, he knew better; no amount of begging, pleading, bargaining, or threatening would matter. The Reaper didn’t have the ability to participate in the soothing ramparts, in the mending overtures; he was just another beast who coiled demise in his grasp, and was worthless to anything else. He was a soldier, he was a warrior, and he was useless.

Amalia’s body was in his arms, and no breath shuttered away from her lungs, no inhale, no exhale, no hum of a heartbeat. His jaw clenched, and he struggled with the agonizing awareness and knowledge of it. Another one, the realm seemed to say, seemed to laugh, and what have you done? It was an echoing, haunting code, drumming restlessly against his ears, a cruel, keen blade he could easily turn on himself. Useless, useless, useless the realm started to sing, and he swallowed down the bile making its way up his throat; he wanted to growl, he wanted to flee, he wanted to annihilate something, because it was all he was capable of.

The healer took pity on him and gave him something to do; he lowered Amalia’s figure and stepped back briefly, puncturing gaze sliding along rumpled clothing and immobile forms. Deimos couldn’t detect where blows had been taken, where blood might’ve pooled, or who, what, he could blame for the disaster. He had half a notion to interrogate Edrei, but one glance her way told him it’d be worthless, and channeling his rage, his frustrations, upon her would be worthless. Instead, he paced for a moment or two, away from the newfound, infirmary table, and back to the door, ensuring it was shut just as Bastien had, for it gave him a moment to compose himself, to devour the agonizing thoughts and the perishing memories, before striding back to the prone, lifeless figures and the commands uttered by those who could actually do something.

Hold her still; he nodded, acknowledged the request, opting to stand on the opposite side of Bastien. One of his hands went to her shoulder, the other to her hip, and he pressed, not hard or forceful, but there just the same, waiting the next set of instructions, to see an entity either brought back to life, or sent straight across Styx.


master of nothing place
of recoil and grace
Edrei Launceleyn
the Rapacious
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds / Rathskeller Owner

Age: 21 | Height: 5'7 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 21 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 3
BOBI - Regular - Bobcat
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 837
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#9
EDREI
happy ending? sorry this isn't disney.
Edy had eyes only for Amalia, even as the beef-cake pulled her oh-so-easily into his arms. Nearly pale with worry (though lets be real, not that pale), her dark eyes snapped to attention as Vai appeared. Relief coursed through her instantly, and shockingly enough, tears appeared in her eyes.

Glancing wobbily towards Bastien, she watched him lock the door, her teeth gritting and grinding with every bolt. Only when they were all closed, did she relax a fraction.

Raising her hands (her fingers trembling), Edy suddenly bathed fire and heat around Amalia's body, still wanting to keep her warm.
Vervain Calob
Witch

Age: 37 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 8
Played by: Honey Offline
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#10

"Thank you," Vai murmured as Bastien and Deimos arranged Amalia on the table, and she paused to let the flames flare up around the young woman for a moment before shooting a weak smile at Edrei. "Hey," she murmured. "You're safe now. We'll talk about why you weren't inside later - for now, I think you could use a strong drink. And so will she, when she wakes up."

Wasting no further time (and with her hands now softly aglow), Vervain approached the table and let her fingers hover over Amalia, her eyes closing. This was by far the most serious set of injuries she'd had to try and heal, but while Vai was no master, neither was she a greenhorn. An expression of concentration flickered across her face as she focused her energy around closing wounds and soothing burns, knitting skin and healing muscle.

There was absolutely no way she would be able to heal away everything, but hopefully it wasn't too late to bring Amalia back from the brink.

vervain
I am always on your side
Air Manipulation (Upgraded) - Base Healing (Upgraded) - Fire Manipulation (Basic)
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Hand of the Queen / Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 12 - Strg: 34 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 34
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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#11
Amalia
I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map
I knew that somehow I could find my way back
The door-

She takes another unsteady step toward that perfect rectangle of light, reaching, aching, yearning for all that waits on the other side. It would be so easy to just step through, slide her broken body into that promising cold and let her fear, her anxiety, her inadequacy die with her. Hasn't she come far enough, suffered long enough, wanted badly enough to be saved and save the world from herself?

There is nothing for her, in this world. Her grandmother is gone. Her mother is gone. Her gods are gone.

Another step.

Why is it suddenly hard to move? Something is grabbing at her: she can feel the weight of it on her hips, her shoulders, her head. Gritting her teeth she struggles against it, pushing on toward the beautiful door, fury suddenly in her breast. How dare they try to keep her here, to bind her to this nothing place! To pull her back into this prison, when she has come so close to peace! A scream rips through her, howling, inhuman, but the hands that grip her do not yield.

"Nani!" she cries, but her grandmother does not answer.

The door is closing now, the red glow growing dim. In its place, starlight swirls, inky night interrupted by pinpoints of distant, unattainable light. It feels warm, hot even, as it envelops the girl, covers her eyes and fills her mouth. No! she sobs, but the cry is muted, muffled by the strangling night.

It fills her lungs and she chokes upon it; it sears her veins like fire. She can feel it in her neurons, her muscles, her bones, aching, burning, a greater pain than she has ever known. She wants to scream but her voice is frozen; she wants to thrash but her body is bound. Tears well at the corners of her eyes. She does not want to be here, she does not want this, she had chosen--

Amalia gasps a shuddering breath as life makes her its captive once more.
Then I heard your heart beating,
you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you
Bastien De Rosieres
Guildmaster / Artist

Age: 34 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 7
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
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#12

Bastien watched Vervain approach absolutely sure she was doing a fool's errand, that there was no way to save the clearly dead girl in his arms. It was a shame, and in some ways Vervain's attempt was honourable, but...holding a corpse in this way felt disrespectful to the dead. Still, at least they would realise it was pointless soon and they could organise a burial--

Then Amalia sputtered and coughed and came to life. Her body seemed to flinch and move under his arms but it was easy to hold down with her weak strength post-death. Bastien stared at her with amazement, then lifted his eyes to Vervain.

"...That....is...amazing, signora. My. You just brought a girl back from the dead!" He had thought Vervain capable and impressive before but now he was completely in awe.

bastien
Baby, lay me down and let's pray
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 29 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 28
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#13
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
He'd buried his parents near their destroyed home, along a stretch of quiet woods and glade, untouched by the invasion, by the destruction, by the chaos. His father would’ve appreciated the kindling for flames and amusement (because sometimes all he remembered of him was the cheeky sort of diversion, the glow in his eyes, as embers raked across fields). His mother, though she wouldn’t have said it, might’ve at least glanced over the copse with a serene, tranquil nod, the slightest indentation of a smile. He’d found stones fit for monuments to place over the fresh dirt, sat down before their resting place, and openly wept – strangled so many confessions and vows from his mouth. I’m sorry I wasn’t here and forgive me had carved their way through his lips, but the wind hadn’t said anything in return. He’d buried his friends on stretches of clover and blood, with their shields, with their swords, with a few oaths and pledges, a clenched jaw, a crestfallen furrow to his brow, pondering over apathy, if it was easier to become an indifferent sort after everything was gone. He buried her by the river, where the stream babbled into its inlet and the waves rose and fell with gentle, soothing undulations, where it covered up the worst of his agony and anguish, where he waited, day after day, for something else to come swallow him whole. Might as well take me too, because he’d been done, sunken and broken and ready to meet them all on the other side, or to watch them scale across the heavens while he sank below the earth, punished for his lifetime of sins and treacheries. It never came, and Deimos supposed that was the gods’ last set of retributions and penalties; to let him wither and decay into nothingness, a rusted weapon, cast aside when its usefulness seethed away, when its edges withered, faded, and died with the rest of its comrades. It would’ve been fitting. He would’ve embraced it.

But it never came for him.

It mauled others and left them clinging to life. It pierced in violent swings and upheavals, senseless brutality, the make of monsters and demons. It slid along an infidel’s course, within deceitful traps, burdened others with the taste of what was to come. The familiarity burned across his skull while he watched Amalia’s form remain rigid, the opposite of her everyday stature and clarity, and thought about turning away so he didn’t have to see it anymore. But then, he would’ve missed the magic, the winding of enchantments, cross over from healer to victim; his eyes widened a fraction, fascinated, as life was brought back into a soul ready to cross over.

He swallowed down the vicious, bitter, rancorous growl clinging to his insides; because no one had ever done that for any of his friends and family, because he’d never been capable, because he was the opposite, granter of executions and annihilations, the end instead of the beginning. It followed him in a feral, sadistic cycle, and maybe he shouldn’t have been there at all.

The notion to back away, to flee, gnarled its way through his bones, but it felt cowardly and stupid, so he stayed perfectly motionless, holding down a figure who’d been like stone moments before. Bastien’s words echoed across the chasm, and he could still nod, he could still breathe, he could still collect something of a voice. “Well done,” he managed to muster, as if it were an everyday thing; but he knew it wasn’t, had seen life fade in his hands, had almost seen it again.


master of nothing place
of recoil and grace
Vervain Calob
Witch

Age: 37 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 8
Played by: Honey Offline
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#14

The girl beneath her hands, lifeless only a moment ago, gasped and shuddered and returned to the waking world (sort of), and Vervain let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Her smile was a touch awkward as she looked between Bastien and Deimos; a healer she had never been, not before arriving here. She had hunted, had tracked, had survived. But whatever gods or demons that governed this place had decided a new path for her.

"Thank you," she murmured to both of them. "I don't know if she's out of the woods yet, though. She needs to get upstairs--"

I need a healer up above, right now!

Vai's head whipped around, catching sight of a woman at the bottom of the stairs. "I..." She frowned, glancing back to those around Amalia. "There are supplies behind the bar. Basic first aid, but you should be able to do what you can. Take care of her," she murmured, before heading away to follow the woman.

vervain
I am always on your side
Air Manipulation (Upgraded) - Base Healing (Upgraded) - Fire Manipulation (Basic)


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