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Thread: Meteoric Spiderbutt

  1. #11
    Senior Member

    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
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    Nevin's Avatar

    GP
    3,657
    AP
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    Name
    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
    Age
    22 / 37
    Race
    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Sweet Crimson. We had success, progress. This spider woman was apt enough to realize that I had said my name - and the gasp and excitement on her face showed that she was as enthusiastic about the step in the right direction as I was. Her pronunciation of my name was a bit... strange, but at the same time. This was a person who had been thrown here from Crimson only knows where, didn't speak my language, and resembled me only in half of her form. I was not about to be upset that she could day my name in any degree I could recognize.

    Then she pronounced a name, one that felt... Familiar. Was it.... Where had I heard 'Moffit' before? I turned the thought over in my head as I responded to her.

    "Moffat. No, that's not right. Muffit? No, no - wait that's the fairy tale. Moff-it. Moffit." I couldn't match the click that she put at the end, aside from snapping my tongue - which I tried on the second pronunciation. Well. At least we knew each other's names now. But wait. Muffit, what was she.... Right. I resolved to never explain that name, and forbid Sketch from mentioning that nursery rhyme around this woman. I doubt she'd appreciate the comparison to a woman who got scared of spiders.

    Moving on from that. The portal, bow she had appeared. I drew a large circle in the dirt, then a small eight-legged and two-armed figure falling from it, onto a stick figure. I tapped the spider figure and pointed to her, then the stick figure and tapped myself. Then I drew a question mark by the portal.

    "Any idea why you fell, Miss Moffit?"
    - "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. #12
    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

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    Neh'vahn. I was liking his name the more I thought about it. It was nice to have something to connect to in this otherworldly... world, with its wrong colors, mean grass, and ugly temperatures. My legs gave an involuntary twitch as I read — well, interpreted — Neh’vahn’s small dirt pictures. A me, a him, and a circle. Crudely effective. It appeared that he, too, was perplexed at my sudden appearance. That made two of us.

    Now, how to explain to him what little I knew? My teeth clicked and chittered together from the slight chill as considered my communication conundrum. Perhaps I could have tried to explain in the priestly language, but that would be useless. Neh’vahn wouldn’t get that. That meant that I was also restricted to pictures. Drawing was not my best skill, but more than that, how was one to explain a fertility festival to a strange slug-man from another reality? Did they have Diunlum here? Oh god. She… existed in this reality too, right?

    Right?

    I paled. My gazed fixed nervously on the dirt drawings. Uncertainly, I began to draw.

    “Let’s see,” I muttered. My foremost right leg reached out to the side of Neh’vahn’s etchings. I attempted to draw the sacred winged spiders, the angels. I also tried to depict the summoning circle my group of acolytes made to call them. Lastly, I attempted to draw a very sad goddess with lovely wings and a robe and spider legs. Surely, she was missing her priestly Acolyte. It… looked like garbage. Like garbage drawing done by a scrawny Spynsterling. But maybe Neh’van would understand some of it? Who was I kidding? Bitch can't read that much out of my half-assed not-art.

    I couldn’t help but let a soft, angry scree and shiver again. The cold was starting to annoy me. “Fuck my ancestors with a rusty hunting knife.”
    Last edited by MoffWenn; 11-15-2017 at 09:40 PM.
    "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. #13
    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
    She chittered slightly and swayed back and forth as she looked down at my drawing, her face tightening in what I would call worry. Cobalt, it looked like she had no idea what was going on either. Worse, I was beginning to doubt that she was even from this world - from what I knew, all of the sentient races could, at the very least, speak Tradespeak, or at least understand it even if they couldn't quite speak it themselves. This woman did not in the least, and it seemed like she could manage our language - her pronunciation of my name had a clear accent but was understandable.

    Or she was from super reclusive tribe, one that had a sum total of zero contact with the rest of the world. But that didn't make sense either - she had seemed, and with the quick glances she would shoot at me still was, confused by my legs or lack thereof. Unless her tribe had forbidden all knowledge of the other races, she should know about bipeds, but she acted like this was the first time she had ever seen one.

    Then she began drawing in the ground. At first it made sense, spider figures like her own - but then she started adding wings and from there it became a convoluted mess that I couldn't make heads or tails of. Apparently she saw this even before I could say a thing to display my lack of comprehension, because she chittered angrily as she glared at her drawing. Then she shivered, and I finally realized that she was not exactly wearing clothes that would keep her warm here. I coughed and turned my head from the rather blatant evidence of her being cold, and took off my cloak and held it out to her. While I wasn't entirely comfortable in the cold I was at least in long sleeved clothes underneath the cloak.
    - "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. #14
    Junior Member

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    Level completed: 54%,
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    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. As expected, the only thing Neh had for me was a faceful of murky confusion.

    I guessed I was going to have to figure out my way back from wherever this “here” was by myself. Right now, it might be better to figure out how this weird world worked. My mind was already racing. I’d have to find a source of food, learn the currency (if this world wasn’t too primitive for that), try to make this mushy language work in my mouth… This was going to be a monumental amount of effort to sort out. “Fuck Anetof,” I muttered again.

    Amid my worry, my shivers, and my cursing, Nev’vahn removed his outer garment and held it out.

    I blinked and tilted my head. For me? It was green, brown, and ugly all over, but I knew its purpose. Who was I to deny an offering of warmth? “Bitch, please, gimme that,” I declared as I grabbed it out of his hands. The rag was immediately draped over the back of my torso and abdomen -- though, it didn’t seem to be build for a body as graceful and well-balanced as mine. It would do though. Yes. It wasn’t as silky as my festival attire, but it was hells warmer to wrap around myself. Neh’vahn was given a nod of approval. This was mine now. For now. For however long I was cold, I decided. When I was in a place where it was no longer so horribly-weathered, I would graciously hand back his long attire.

    Without the extra attire to pad out his form, he looked more like a standing stick than ever, all gangly and pale and weird. Again I found myself tickled by the urge to push him over. Because damn, I still couldn’t figure out how he was standing up like that.

    I skittered forward with my arms held out brashly. Neh’vahn’s meager two eyes widened at my swift advance. To my surprise, he took a half-step to the side. What? How he anticipated my clever intentions, I didn’t know. What I did know was that my enthusiastic shove ended with me eating dirt and pallid grass.

    “Fuck your balance!”

  5. #15
    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 had seen the intent in the small spider-girl's eyes this time as she stared at him, her multiple eyes darting down to his legs and back up to him, judging. So when she skittered forward, thrusting her arms in his direction - well, it had been an easy motion to step to the side and let Moffit charge past him. She apparently hadn't been expecting him to avoid the charge, because with a chittered cry of what he could only assume was frustration, the spider girl toppled forward, her upper torso sprawling out as she hit the ground. The man raised an eyebrow as he studied her, unsure of what she said as she levered herself off of the ground - it sounded angry. He hadn't expected her humanoid half to be flexible at the waist enough for her to land like that.

    That was an interesting question. Was it her humanoid half that was that flexible, or was the place where humanoid and arachnoid met that flexible, or recessed in some way? He couldn't really see - her clothing seemed designed to cover up that particular location. A modesty taboo of some kind? Her clothing certainly didn't seem sturdy enough for it to be armor of some kind. No it seemed overly ornate for that purpose, and too light and airy. It spoke of perhaps, ceremonial purposes to the clothing? Hmm. He rubbed his chin as he studied the spider girl - she seemed irritated at him as she moved over to him and jabbed at his stomach, glaring at his legs. The alchemist didn't know why his balance infuriated her so, but he took a step away from her anyway in case she tried to shove him again from directly in his space.

    What to do with her? He couldn't very well take her with him to work on mastering her language - or teaching her Tradespeak. He was too mobile, and the places he went ended up a bit too dangerous to be taking someone who didn't share a language yet. His second thought was to try taking the drider back to Radasanth - Vitruvion had far, far more years on the alchemist in terms of studying obscure bits of information. If there was someone who might be able to talk with her, it would be the white haired individual for sure. But no - that wouldn't be safe. Vitruvion and Stare were getting embroiled into a conflict of their own, and Nevin didn't think it would be wise to burden them with this girl when they had so much on their plate already.

    But - what about his apprentice? She was relatively stable, and helping someone from another land learn societal norms might very well help her with her mastery of those problems. Yes, that seemed like a very good solution - take the spider to the homunculus. No way that could go wrong. But of course he wouldn't force it on Ezra, if she thought she would be too busy then...well. He would cross that bridge when it came to it. Nevin flinched suddenly, looking down at his arm and glaring.

    Crawling up his arm, away from the sore spot where it had just either bit or pinched him, was a shiny black beetle, nearly the size of his thumb. The thing had been on his shirt sleeve so he hadn't noticed it before, but now that it was on his skin -
    he glared at it harder and used a crimson band of threads to pluck the annoying little bastard from his arm, and held it out and shook it sharply. Little bastard shouldn't have bitten him.
    - "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. #16
    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

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    “-and you can pry that out of your ass with a chipped knife. Hrmph.”

    The dirt was unhappily brushed off of my exoskeleton and my softer upper body. It had an ugly static cling to it that it did not back home. Neh’vahn was still firmly upright, and it seemed as if he’d be staying that way for the rest of the foreseeable future. I’d later investigate that under better circumstances. Fine. I wondered if he was merely a mutant of some sort or… if the rest of this realm was populated by such unstable people. “That would be strange,” I mused. Yet, it seemed the likelier of the two possibilities.

    The two-legs winced. His face had taken on a scowling quality. I glanced at him, somewhat concerned as performed his strange foreign ability with the red tendrils pushing out of his skin. What were they? Did I want to know? I assumed it was probably a common thing, considering how casual he was about it. Others could do that too. Or, that was what I was assuming. It was just a spindly little patch out of his hands this time, rather than the large fronds that had caught me from my earlier plummeting.

    In the red webbing was a… Wait. Was that really…?

    I let out the cheeriest chitter I had uttered since dropping into this forsaken realm. It was!

    A black beetle no bigger than the tip of my tarsals, its legs splayed out and rippling, as if it could hope to find a way out of Neh’vahn’s grip. The cute needle-point pincers snapped at the air in distress. Aw! Bitch thought it was menacing! As if. The thing was much smaller than any of the wildlife I knew in my world -- a juvenile? an oddity? -- but, at least it was still recognizable. Still familiar. Possibly, edible. Since Neh’vahn was not looking at it in a way that suggested he was hungry, I darted to grab it; waste not, want not. Especially in an alien realm. “I can take that, thank you,” I sang. The exoskeleton cracked between my teeth, letting the delicious insides out. Crunchy, then gooey. Tangy. Perfect. If, well, small.

    "This place actually has halfway decent grub," I admitted begrudgingly. "I should ask where I can find the bigger ones later."
    "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. #17
    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
    I stared at the spider for a solid minute, in silence. The wind picked up around us, as I tried to comprehend the fact that this girl had just, with no hesitation and apparent glee, consumed the beetle that had bitten me.
    That was....ok. Right, remember she wasn't from around here. And clearly she was closer to spider in nature than to human, or elf, or whatever her humanoid half was supposed to be descended from. So, of course she wouldn't necessarily eat the same things that we did...but a beetle? And did she have to look so pleased about it? I wiped my face with one hand and did my best not to think about the apparent meal plan of driders that came flying through portals.

    No, instead I rubbed my eyes as I tried to think. Taking her back to Stonevale seemed the safest option, right now. Even if Ezra didn't have the time to help Moffit, at least she would be safe there in town. Hell. Maybe I could have Nan look after the girl. The old woman seemed to care not one single whit about what someone looked like - she literally saw them as all her grandchildren, who, in her own words, 'Needed to stop playing around and actually get together and give her more grandchildren to spoil.' Yes, that was actually a brilliant plan. Tell Nan I found a young woman who needed help and looked a bit different, and show her a drawing of Moffit - and if the woman didn't seem afraid, actually introduce them.

    Yes, this seemed like a brilliant plan. And it would put Moffit somewhere safe while she figured out the language, which Nan would probably help her learn. But now, the next major hurdle in my plan on how to help the drider. Namely, the same one that was part of the reason why I was coming up with this plan in the first place. How in the name of the Great Flow was I going to convince the spider-woman to come with me so far? Literally, across an ocean? In a rare occurrence, I wished he had a teleportation stone. All I could do was -

    I drew a house in the dirt, with a small stick figure inside. One crimson tendril tapped the tiny stick figure. "Nevin, home." I tapped the crudely drawn hut. Then I tried to draw a spider-Moff next to the little stick figure. "Moffit, home?" Did she understand inquisitive intonation?
    Last edited by Nevin; 12-01-2017 at 12:19 AM.
    - "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. #18
    Junior Member

    EXP: 1,080, Level: 1
    Level completed: 54%, EXP required for next Level: 920
    Level completed: 54%,
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    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
    I licked the last remnants of the beetle from my lips as Neh’vahn knelt to draw more. Watching him work, I resolved to learn the common language of this world as quickly as I could, because this form of communication was neither quick nor comprehensible. His newest attempt at getting-something-across; a boxy-shape with me and him inside. “Neh’vahn,” he said, pointing to himself; he followed this with a rubbery sound. Then he pointed to the little stick-me. “Moffit,” he said, and repeated the same sound again.

    A restless wind blew over us as I stared at his crude drawings a moment, hand on my chin. That looked… a little like a constructed living quarters. Ugly and squarish, but definitely a building -- and it appeared that Neh’vahn wanted to bring me to it. “Hom,” I repeated, trying to replicate the rubbery sound he made. It made my mouth feel weird. “Neh’vahn hom…” Ah! Seeing as I’m not entirely an idiot, hom clicked. Hom was probably his living space.

    Well. It wasn’t as if I had anywhere else to go.

    Hom,” I finally agreed, bearing my fangs in a proud grin, pointing at my new biped friend. Lead the way! “Hom, Neh’vahn.” And, preferably, show me more of his squishy-sounding language while he was at it. I needed to learn the his word for ‘food’ as soon as I could; hom had better have some grub, because that tiny beetle was not doing enough for me.
    "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. #19
    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
    Alright. So the spider girl, Moffitt, was quick enough to figure out what Nevin had been trying to convey with his admittedly terrible drawings. At least, she seemed to think she did, as after she stared what the alchemist had drawn for a few moments, her brow had furrowed before her expression had just positively lit up with excitement. She had said 'home' a few times, testing the intonation of it - it wasn't quite right even when she seemed to settle on how she'd pronounce it, but it was close enough that Nevin could figure out what she was meaning.

    Right. OK. Nevin would take her back to Stonevale - the people there were peaceful and non-judging, they probably wouldn't think too much of taking in a drider, at least so long as she didn't start attacking them, which seemed rather unlikely. Besides, she was not exactly an imposing figure; either the guards, or if necessary, Nevin, would be able to keep her in 'check' until she had proven that she wasn't hostile.

    The redhead retracted his tendrils, the red coils drawing back underneath his clothes and vanishing from sight. He adjust his sleeves and dusted off his pants from where the spider-girl had crashed into him earlier, trying to knock him over. He raised one eyebrow at her, and beckoned her as he started to walk down the trail back towards the city. His mind was already churning with thoughts on how to get her back across the ocean - he would need to find a captain who didn't mind an unusual passenger. But there was another concern first and foremost in his mind.

    How on Althanas was he going to feed Moffitt? She quite obviously fed on insectoid creatures, if her consumption of the beetle that had bitten him meant anything. And given her size disparity to a normal spider, she would likely need a substantial diet of the things. The alchemist frowned as he walked, rubbing his chin with one hand as he thought. It would likely not be preferable for the drider, but he might be able to create a concoction to keep her hunger needs satisfied until they could locate a better means of keeping her satisfied. "Need to start looking into where overgrown insects have been reported, hmm." his voice was soft, barely audible, more a comment to himself than to the drider who would barely be able to understand him.
    - "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. #20
    Super Moderator

    EXP: 96,345, Level: 13
    Level completed: 46%, EXP required for next Level: 7,655
    Level completed: 46%,
    EXP required for next Level: 7,655


    Philomel's Avatar

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    20,253
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    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
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    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
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    Female (+ Male)
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    Corone

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    Name of Thread: Meteoric Spiderbutt
    Judgement Type: No Judgement
    Participants: Nevin and MoffWenn

    Rewards:

    Nevin receives:
    1395 EXP
    110 Gold

    MoffWenn receives:
    730 EXP
    100 Gold

    “I take my hat off to you — or I would, if I were not afraid of showering you in spiders.”
    ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
    Matriarch of the Gilded Lily and of its brothels, associated establishments and the army.

    --
    Characters:
    The family triplet: Philomel, Vaeron and Celandine.
    The god and kenku triplet: Stare, Avin and Vixen.

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