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Thread: Meteoric Spiderbutt

  1. #1
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    Nevin's Avatar

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    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
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    Location
    Corone

    Meteoric Spiderbutt

    Nevin was walking through a field a fair distance away from everything - he had been exploring the area around Beinost, and decided to range further out, checking the region between the city and Lindequalme. He was torn between setting up a home in the city - near to Stare was the advantage there - or in the Red Forest itself. The third option was to find a suitable place in between the two, hence his current area.

    It had been a few hours since he'd seen anyone else, so the man was walking through a field off the beaten path, collecting herbs and other plants - wild growing oats and grains. Ezra had beat some simple recipes into his head, and he could at least manage a simple porridge now. But he was collecting them a bit differently than normal - spreading out around him, testing and plucking, were cables and wires of his threads.

    Dancing about him in a crimson net, Nevin's threads coiled together into weaves of varying thickness, plucking plants up and swatting away insects that got too close. This was one of the few chances he had to experiment and let his threads roam free, and he was only casually guiding them as he roamed around. The goal here was to see how they acted without his direct control - he knew they had some kind of intelligence of their own, but he didn't know how advanced it was.

    He paused to take a break, stopping walking around to pull a canteen up and take a long drink of cool water.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  2. #2
    Junior Member

    EXP: 1,080, Level: 1
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    MoffWenn's Avatar

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    300
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    Name
    Moffit Bel'Adon
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    Young Adult; ninety-three cycles of the red moon
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    Spynster
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    Corone

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    The first thing I asked myself as I hurtled through the unforgiving dark was, Why? Whose fault is this?

    Anetofikanik. Fellow Acolyte Anetof. Fellow Forgets-To-Attend-To-His-Studies Acolyte Anetof. It was definitely his fault. I blame him. Bitch can’t tell a fertility rune from a letter in the priestly language.

    What was supposed to be a purification ritual, a summoning of one of Diunlum’s (she the blessed) angels, had gone very obviously wrong. Instead of summoning the sacred winged spiders to bathe our misdeeds in their cleansing song, we summoned a great sucking hole of fucking pure black. Perfect way for my first official festival ritual to go. Just chirpy-perfect. I, as the closest one to the unholy abomination we summoned, was the first to be pulled in. As I smudged several of the summoning runes right before it took me, I’m pretty sure that I was also the last. The beautiful white skies and orange-red treetops was the final fleeting glimpse there was to see of Arach’thanas.

    Again, Anetof, I blame. Whoever put him on circle-scribing duty “so he could get some practice in” was due for some strangulation. Y’know, if I was in the same dimension as them ever again.

    That seemed like a very doubtful possibility though. Here I was, tumbling through a void of chitin-piercing cold and darkness, screaming my heart out. Some of the screaming was the sheer, garbled terror one would expect from being sucked into a broken space between worlds, expecting no less than the sweet release of death. Some of it was my most creative swearing yet. Disappointing, how none of it was recorded for posterity. It was a good thing that none of the Elder Priests were there to hear me.

    To my surprise, I did not meet death at the end of the dark-space-between-worlds, but a blueness above. And, after half a moment’s continued shrieking and plummeting, something met my abdomen. BOMF! That something and I then both met a prickly, grassy, dirty ground.

    “DIUNLUM DAMN IT!”
    "I'm funny, so they let me live." - Skippy's List

    The Wiki Matriarch, the Vignette Enthusiast, your friendly neighborhood Cinnamon Smol, and very excited to roleplay!

    I play all these Wenns, so take a look at them if you'd like!

  3. #3
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657
    AP
    0
    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Nevin felt odd for a moment. His threads shivered, all of them, even the ones still inside of his skin. It was like they were reacting to something but this was new sensation - the closest he had ever experienced to it was when he fought the Scarlet Servant. But even then it wasn't like this - then another shiver, and he heard a strange tearing sound in the air above him.

    The redhead looked up - and saw a wide figure shooting down towards him through the air. There was a strange screeching, chittering noise filling the air that appeared just after the tearing sound. Nevin barely had time to get his arms and a hastily woven net of crimson threads in between himself and the falling object before it slammed into him, driving him down to the grassy earth beneath him.

    He lay there for a long few moments, listening as there was another loud screech above him, coming from the figure that had crash landed on him. Slowly he opened his eyes to take a look at what he had barely managed to catch.

    Spider. Ass. Nevin blinked twice, trying to figure out if his initial impression was accurate. Sure enough, eight legs were straddling him, and an abdomen and thorax were cradled in the net of his threads. This was an enormously large spider - wait was that an arm? Small, appropriately proportioned to the body, and tilting his neck a bit he could see a torso and -

    This was a drider. There was a drider straddling him. Nevin's brain shut down.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  4. #4
    Junior Member

    EXP: 1,080, Level: 1
    Level completed: 54%, EXP required for next Level: 920
    Level completed: 54%,
    EXP required for next Level: 920


    MoffWenn's Avatar

    GP
    300
    AP
    0
    Name
    Moffit Bel'Adon
    Age
    Young Adult; ninety-three cycles of the red moon
    Race
    Spynster
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    The shock of the fall left me limp for a good while. Wow, my butt hurt. There was some sort of red… mesh… beneath me. It was warm, and it pulsed? Smooth, slick. It wasn’t hurting me. What even was this? Whatever it was, it did not feel right. Then again, nothing around me did. Still cursing under my breath, I stared at the world around. The sky and the plants were all the wrong colors. There was only one sun above.

    A gurgly sort of groan came from under the mesh as I rolled off of it. To my surprise, there was a creature underneath.

    A moving, noise-making creature with an icky squishy voice.

    I bared my fangs at it cautiously and flattened myself against the tall grass. Did it have anything to do with why I was here? Hells if I knew. How would I even describe what it looked like? There was something shit-wrong about this creature -- and the more I stared, the more it made my my carapace crawl. In its upper body, it looked fairly normal for a sentient being. Arms, chest, head, mostly in the right places. Two too few eyes though. No fangs. The ears were oddly shaped too. And below the waist, it was a total mess. Two legs? How could anything balance on two legs? Unnatural! And its skin — ugh! Squishy and pale, bland of color, like a slug. Slugs were my least favorite food. I skittered back a few steps as the red threads receded, and it got to its feet.

    Its face seemed confused. Very confused. Well, so was I.

    “You, squishy bitch!” I demanded of the… creature, jabbing a finger in its direction. “Ugly fuck! Tell me what you are, where in the eight hells I’ve ended up, and how to get back home, or I’ll- uh. I don’t… Oh! I have a knife. Yes. If you show aggression towards me, I will defend myself! Do you understand?”

    So I did. It was a shitty knife, but it was there, strapped to my festival abdomen piece. My dirty festival abdomen piece. That was a right shame, but probably not my highest priority right now.
    "I'm funny, so they let me live." - Skippy's List

    The Wiki Matriarch, the Vignette Enthusiast, your friendly neighborhood Cinnamon Smol, and very excited to roleplay!

    I play all these Wenns, so take a look at them if you'd like!

  5. #5
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657
    AP
    0
    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Oh thank crimson it had got off. Nevin rolled to his feet and shook his head. He tried to figure out where it had gone after it had got off of him, looking around as his threads began retracting into his skin - oh. Oh, it was much smaller than he had initially thought. The drider had flattened herself against the ground, but then moved backwards, straightening up as she did so.

    Definitely a she, Nevin decided, as he locked his eyes on her face, and her firmly pointing arm. Multiple eyes, fangs.... And short. Now that she was upright, and screeching at him as she jabbed a finger in his direction, Nevin could see that she was about four feet tall when standing upright, and seemed either confused, or scared, or furious. The emotions seemed to chase each other across her face as she chittered at him.

    Nevin held his hands up, and watched her skitter backwards more, her shrieking picking up in intensity as she moved away from him. "Peace, little one, peace! I have no idea what you're saying - are you alright? Can you understand me?" He assumed the noises coming from the tiny spider-woman's mouth were words - she definitely seemed intelligent, and was wearing clothes, and even had a small dagger strapped to her waist.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  6. #6
    Junior Member

    EXP: 1,080, Level: 1
    Level completed: 54%, EXP required for next Level: 920
    Level completed: 54%,
    EXP required for next Level: 920


    MoffWenn's Avatar

    GP
    300
    AP
    0
    Name
    Moffit Bel'Adon
    Age
    Young Adult; ninety-three cycles of the red moon
    Race
    Spynster
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Evidently, it didn’t understand -- and neither did I. The noises coming out of its mouth were, as the ones before, shapeless and meaningless. The language lacked bite. I lacked comprehension. All eight of my feet were screaming at me to get away from it -- but aside from how ugly it was, it didn’t seem too harmful. It? He, maybe. It lacked the strong curves of a female physique. There was a gentleness to his voice that suggested benevolence, and he was holding his hands up in a way that could be construed as “passively peaceful”.

    And even if I did flee, where on Arach’thanas would I go?

    That was a scary thought. My home? My congregation? Gone. Out of reach.

    My cursing stopped for a moment, and I stood still where I was. Oh, Diunlum. Maybe, if I was lucky, this leg-lacking bloke knew how to fix this situation. Hopefully. It didn’t seem likely, but... I tilted my head and clicked my fangs together thoughtfully. Slowly, I pointed up at the sky. Maybe slug-creature would understand this much. Not the words, but the intention. “Up there, portal. It’s gone? Did you summon? Can you… indicate anything about what the fresh hells just happened here? Or are you as stupid clueless as I?”

    A breeze passed by. I stopped pointing, a deep shudder running from head to tarsus. Bitch, don’t you be blowing on me. I didn’t have any proper threads to defend against the cold. My joints were locking up in fright; didn’t need this shit too. “Fuck you, and your father’s father,” I muttered to either the wind itself, or no-one in particular. There wasn’t anything around here who’d get a lick of what I was saying, I was starting to realize.
    "I'm funny, so they let me live." - Skippy's List

    The Wiki Matriarch, the Vignette Enthusiast, your friendly neighborhood Cinnamon Smol, and very excited to roleplay!

    I play all these Wenns, so take a look at them if you'd like!

  7. #7
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657
    AP
    0
    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Well. The look of confusion on her face when I spoke confirmed that she had no idea what I was saying. Great. What in the name of Cobalt was going on here? Driders, at least the ones he knew of, could speak Tradespeak, not this... Strange, chittering language she also kept glancing down at his legs - were his trousers open? A quick check showed that was not the case, so why?

    Then she began chittering again, pointing up towards the sky, where she had fallen from. When she did so, Nevin's threads shivered in his skin, but he was no closer to figuring out what she was on about than he had been five minutes ago. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he tried to figure out some way that the two of them could communicate. Without words. Thick blood.

    He sat down, placing his chin in the palm of one hand as he drummed the fingers of the other hand the ground. They were at a communication impasse. Maybe... Maybe letters? Could she read Tradespeak, but just not speak it? Using a stick in range of his threads, he began to write "Hello" in the dirt, then raised an eyebrow at her.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  8. #8
    Junior Member

    EXP: 1,080, Level: 1
    Level completed: 54%, EXP required for next Level: 920
    Level completed: 54%,
    EXP required for next Level: 920


    MoffWenn's Avatar

    GP
    300
    AP
    0
    Name
    Moffit Bel'Adon
    Age
    Young Adult; ninety-three cycles of the red moon
    Race
    Spynster
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    He started to write.

    Five characters, right there in the dirt.

    Zero that I understood.

    I clicked my teeth in distress as he etched out the unfamiliar symbols with his unfamiliar glossy red tendrils. Obviously, this squish-creature didn’t get a lick of what I had been trying to indicate. Well, either that, or I wasn’t getting his reply. Because body language at least seemed to be universal, I shook my head, white curls getting in the way of my eyes. Shiver. Still, it was trying to communicate in the first place. No attacking.

    Tentatively, I took a few steps back toward him. My carapace quivered with uncertainty. Perhaps I would have to get more aggressive in my gesture-questions. It was becoming really doubtful that he knew anything significant about the portal. That was fine — for now. There were other things to ask. “Your legs,” I said, pointing to his. “Fucking stupid. Fall over. Why they like that? Only two? Mine,” I said, pointing thusly, “mine are more. Stable. No falling over.”

    Hrmmm. Actually, considering his answer might be more confused scribbles in the dirt, it was best that it investigated this myself.

    For discovery, of course.

    I skittered forward, gave him a hard push, and skittered back through the prickly grass again.
    "I'm funny, so they let me live." - Skippy's List

    The Wiki Matriarch, the Vignette Enthusiast, your friendly neighborhood Cinnamon Smol, and very excited to roleplay!

    I play all these Wenns, so take a look at them if you'd like!

  9. #9
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
    Level completed: 65%, EXP required for next Level: 3,861
    Level completed: 65%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,861


    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657
    AP
    0
    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Blocked flow. Even writing hadn't worked - I had watched her while I wrote, and there was absolutely no level of comprehension in that gaze. She seemed confused, aggravated - probably at our lack of ability to communicate. Cobalt. I couldn't think of another way to talk to her either - body language seemed to be the only thing we shared in common, and even that was distorted due to the differences in our bodies.

    I was pulled from my thoughts when she chittered loudly at me, furiously jabbing a finger at my legs. Then a gesture at her legs - was she asking why I only had two? Before I could figure out what she was actually asking, the small woman charged at me. I braced myself in response to the sudden motion, tightening my abs as her hands - hit my chest?

    After she shoved me, the spider-woman darted backwards, staring at me with suspicion in her gaze. That had been... Awkward. I stood up, regaining my full height, and folded my arms over my chest.

    "Well. I have no idea what that was supposed to accomplish little one. Was that a form of greeting? Trying to show dominance? Telling me to back off?" I huffed, then tapped my chest. "Let's try this then I'm Nevin. Ne-vin." As I spoke my name I tapped my chest. I had no idea if she could even speak similarly to me - her mouth seemed to be shaped appropriately, but I had no idea what her vocal cords were like.
    - "We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood; Fear the old blood."

    Nevin: Formal, thoughtful, nurturing, bearer of tropey tentacles.

    "More threads! More! Threads for the Crimson Thread King!"
    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.
    Ronnel: Not even approved yet.

  10. #10
    Junior Member

    EXP: 1,080, Level: 1
    Level completed: 54%, EXP required for next Level: 920
    Level completed: 54%,
    EXP required for next Level: 920


    MoffWenn's Avatar

    GP
    300
    AP
    0
    Name
    Moffit Bel'Adon
    Age
    Young Adult; ninety-three cycles of the red moon
    Race
    Spynster
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Sigh. My new slug-colored potential-friend creature did not fall over. He did seem a bit perplexed though, what with his face pinched up thoughtfully and all. I assumed that this was because he was sitting, and not standing. Standing two-legs were surely easy to topple. Results; inconclusive. Disappointing.

    He was saying words now. Repeated, pointed at himself. Wait...

    Neh. Vahn.

    I twitched my ears in disbelief. His name? I couldn’t help but gasp when I understood. Ahh! Now we were getting somewhere. It seemed a reasonable length — the short version of his true name, I supposed. The half-true.

    “Neh’vahn,” I pronounced, pointing to him and nodding slowly. He smiled back, a measured movement. In turn, I pointed to myself and gave him my half-true name. “Moff. Et. Moffit.” The end was normally pronounced with a strong click, but this new gurgly-bitch language didn’t seem to use such a thing, so I toned it down a little. “Neh’vahn, Moffit.”

    Nodnod.
    "I'm funny, so they let me live." - Skippy's List

    The Wiki Matriarch, the Vignette Enthusiast, your friendly neighborhood Cinnamon Smol, and very excited to roleplay!

    I play all these Wenns, so take a look at them if you'd like!

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