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Thread: You Are What I Taught You (Closed)

  1. #1
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    Philomel's Avatar

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    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
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    You Are What I Taught You (Closed)

    CLOSED TO NEVIN.
    Matriarch of the Gilded Lily and of its brothels, associated establishments and the army.

  2. #2
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    Philomel's Avatar

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    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
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    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
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    Corone

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    A soft wind rippled across the vast void of space. There was nothing beneath her hooves - nothing but thousands of miles of empty, blue air. A swirling vortex of gentle clouds, the dipping sun that seemed to be endlessly lost in this pit of ... sky. How could it be that this place, with naught but a huge, mighty branch to suspend it in the air, existed? Indeed, even the branch spread far across the sky also, disappearing from both root and end into the light but plenty clouds. They were like a mist, but one that meant no harm, only gave an idea of just what was beyond this world. Mist below, mist to the sides, and the bright glowing orb above.

    Nestled into this branch was the town she had strode from. A town of many tall towers and a single, huge dome which housed nothing but a sandy arena that whispered of horse trials long ago. Nay, not horses, but rather pegasi, for who else lived amongst the clouds like this? Thousands of large windows in the buildings gave clue to the common comings and goings of the warriors on their winged steeds, who would have travelled very far across the horizon. One of these led from the sandy dome, where she had originally stepped, onto the long promenade, and it was here where she was now - gazing at the paradise beneath, above and around her.

    Quite, quite, perfect for a man coming for the first time to the Citadel.

    The Matriarch stretched, a flicker of a smile coming to her face. Grey eyes, as hard as slate but as shimmering as silver, took in the city itself, white and bold against the backdrop of blue. Suddenly, her mind filled it with a thousand pegasi warriors, their kin and friends, all living here under the branch of the largest tree she had ever seen. SHe imagined what life would be like here, imagined going on quests to find the trunk of the tree, and the source of the materials that gave substance to this place. Shaking bakc her plait to drop it back over her shoulder, she breathed the fresh air - and let the image go.

    But there it was still, fixed in her mind's eye. Nodding once she drew out her long mythril sword and turned her back to the endless sky, as bottomless as a god's hunger to he worshipped. Experimentally she swung it through the air and it made sharp 'swishes' as it diced in clean slices. She kept up this practise as she began the walk back to the huge domed arena, circular, and ringed with ten rows of seats. Joining eye contact back with the being who waited for her in the doorway, she grinned.

    "Looks like it will be an endless fall there," she commented.

    The golden-eyed, sharp-toothed fox grinned.

    How about I greet our friend? he asked. Seeing them confused gives me delight.

    "Better to give them Delath, darling," Philomel commented. And she reached into herself, into the earth at her feet, expecting to find Delath the earth dragon swirling about her feet. Instead ... well instead he was in the tree branch itself, or so he himself thought, when given her information. For a moment she frowned, wondering about the stability of this whole place, then a secondary alert to her earth sense spoke of yet another ...

    Another ...

    Their combatant.

    "Ah!" she said, delighted, and marching into the vast sandy field, ducking underneath the white dome. She rested her sword, Nameless as it was called, over her shoulder and searched until she found the familiar ripples beginning to twist in the air, signalling an opening portal.

    I guess I am not welcoming him by myself then, Veridian the fox grunted, pattering up to be beside her.

    Philomel shrugged.

    "No," she answered.
    Last edited by Philomel; 12-12-2017 at 09:48 AM.
    Matriarch of the Gilded Lily and of its brothels, associated establishments and the army.

  3. #3
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    Nevin's Avatar

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    "You are as good as you are going to get with the time we have. I think that you are ready for your final test. In a few days time, a message will come to you with my seal.
    When you open it - and you had best open it as soon as possible - you will be brought to your final proving grounds."


    Philomel's words were ringing in his ears as Nevin stared down, contemplative, at the rolled envelope he had been handed last night by a rather hurried man. Normally Nevin would have just tossed it aside, had he not rolled it over first, and seen a gold embossed lily stamped onto it, sealing it closed. Turning it further revealed a rather disturbing skull beneath it, glaring out at him from underneath the petals of the lily. This then, was the message that Philomel had sent to him - or, considering what it would do, for him. Nevin took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

    He knew that, if he had any hope of holding his own for even a short time against the Faun, he would need to not hold back in the slightest. So it was not just his crimson drakescale breastplate, or his barbed whip that he put in place. His belt pouch filled with hard tablets - thin, flat plates about the width and height of his hand- was hooked into place. He held Stare's vial for a moment, then put it down. Seeing Philomel's soul for a short time might be useful, but he would rather keep the memento of his dear friend.

    Into his bag went the vials that he had collected just recently - potions of blood, gained in battle against a twisted deer. He thought it mildly amusing that he might use Vitality stolen from a deer to fight a Faun but that was just an errant thought - nothing more. He placed them in carefully, towards his back - it wouldn't do to have them being struck, even if they were in a protective case.

    He swept his cloak up into place, obscuring most of this, and nodded. He was as ready as he could get. His threads hummed beneath his skin in anticipation - mirroring, displaying his tension. This would be the first fight that he had gone in to where he actually knew there was going to be a fight, and that made him very tense, almost afraid.

    But also, excited. He was looking forward to a chance to prove himself, to finally not be caught off guard by every little thing that happened. He drew in a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and opened the scroll. It began to glow, a vibrant blue hue, and he tossed it on the ground - and a shimmering vortex spiraled into life in front of him. Nevin stared at a moment - before nodding and stepping through.

    Gut wrenching, twisting, spirals, it felt like he was being spun around like a top - and then he was out, on the other side, stumbling a bit as he looked around, taking in the bizarre and amazing view. A city hung from an enormous tree branch, bathed in the clouds. Then he saw her, still as impressive a figure as ever, dressed for battle. He swallowed.

    A battle with him. Oh crimson, was he really ready for this? One hand tightened into a fist. Yes, yes he was. He was not going to back down, not here, not now.

    "Lady Van der Aart." He bowed.
    - "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!"
    Current threads: I give up on keeping this updates.

  4. #4
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    Philomel's Avatar

    GP
    8,285
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    69
    Name
    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
    Race
    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
    Gender
    Female (+ Male)
    Location
    Corone

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    As the young red-haired man - younger, at least, than Philomel - stepped onto the huge sandy field, the faun found her lips twisting up into a wide smile. There he came, through the portal and into the world that the Ai'Brone monks had so ingeniously created, dressed in a fine deep red drakescale chestpiece, covering his torso. His lose hair itself rested on strong shoulders and tucked into his belt was hide and plynt barbed whip, offering pain to be expected. Overall he was the appearance of a new warrior, ready to face the world with the possibility for greatness, and Philomel had every intention today to test that potential.

    She stood in the doorway to the massive dome arena, marvellously framed by the brilliant white sunlight of the outside world. The sand around her was depressed in many places where the pacing of Veridian had already spoilt the fine flatness of the floor. He himself was now poised at the edge of all, tense as he waited near the wall where the benches began that had once provided seating for the thousands of watchers in this great place. Together, fox and faun welcomed the alchemist with open hearts and an eagerness for battle.

    "Mr Aimaparapoiitis," she greeted back, curtly nodding her head back but never taking her eyes off him. Still, her smile remained on her face as she started to move.

    One hoof, then the next over the sand and towards him, leaving the entrance with the wide world behind her and closing in on him in this empty, silent arena. Because of the way it was designed, with that create semi-hemispherical roof, her soft hoofsteps made echoes with the volume of thunder around them. Now it was no longer silent, just as it should be. Slowly, she pulled Nameless down from where it rested on her shoulder and began to adjust and check her armour. Hands slid smoothly and practised over her crimson young dragonscale half breastplate, the titanium chainmail that hung beneath it, the drakescale pauldron and titanium bracers - except all the while not taking her eyes of the alchemist.

    "You have come, which is good," she sounded pleased. "Veridian, I and my other companion thank you for agreeing on it. Truly, we hope to offer you a good fight as well as a test, to see for yourself how mighty you have become."

    Coming to a stop fifty metres from him she gestured around her to the grand dome, letting Nameless droop its point to rest it on the sandy floor.

    "This arena I have been made aware, is based on one from an ancient world, for a species of being who were devoted to their pegasi mounts. As you can see through the windows above," she pointed to the windows, where a peek of the huge mighty branch could be seen, and beyond that the vast sky, "It is suspended. We are therefore limited to where we can go ... unless you can fly, my alchemist friend?"

    She tilted her head, then found herself grinning, "You have options. You can either face me alone, or myself with Veridian. Or, one at a time. We could go in rounds, see how good your mettle is against just Veridian - he is apparently eager." A giggling huff from the golden eyed fox comfirmed it. "Or ... you have a the choice of facing against my other darling, who you cannot see just now. If you choose the rounds, he would also wish to challenge you. If you do not choose ..."

    Philomel shrugged. "Well, we will just all attack at the same time. That would be the final choice."
    Last edited by Philomel; 12-12-2017 at 11:25 AM.
    Matriarch of the Gilded Lily and of its brothels, associated establishments and the army.

  5. #5
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    Nevin's Avatar

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    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
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    Nevin took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly as he studied them. The two of them were both smiling, eager and hungry looks on their faces. They were both ready for this fight - and they were used to it, where he wasn't. So. He shut down, pushing his emotions away as he thought, his eyes flicking as he scanned the group.

    A team of unknowns, one and all. Nevin still didn't know just what Veridian was - he was certainly no fox, not just one at least. And he had no idea what Philomel could do with her sword - she had stuck with her whip when they were training, so he had never even her skill with it. He could only guess that it was better than decent. And he didn't even know what her final 'darling' looked like - only that he was eager to fight him too. Fantastic three foes, ready to fight him.

    And did she have to keep smiling at him? It was unnerving - everyone he had fought so far had had expressions of hatred on their faces, it made it easier for him to follow through on hurting them. Philomel though, she was grinning, like she was going to just enjoy this. Thick flow, did he even have a chance here?

    No. No, he had to stop thinking like that. If her grin was enough to kill his will to fight, he'd be finished before she even made her first attack. Nevin dropped his hand to grip his whip, curling his fingers around the hilt as he watched that damn able smile. He cleared his throat as he made his choice.

    "Far be it for me to turn away people who want to fight me. I don't know how i will stand against your expectations, but I'll give it my all. So. The rounds then, in your order." He smiled, grimly.
    - "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!"
    Current threads: I give up on keeping this updates.

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