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Thread: Blood Red Trees

  1. #1
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    Stare's Avatar

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    Blood Red Trees

    Part 2 of Black Wings and Blood Red Trees. Part 1 here.
    Stare paused before looking right at Nevin. “So … I may have just got permission to come with you. If you'll let me.”

    Nevin felt both of his eyebrows raise in shock at this. He knew that she had wanted to accompany him originally, but with how upset Vitruvion had been recently, and the plans of the Church of Sabazios and his brother to attack his holdings, Nevin had thought that she would be busy helping watch over and organize things, working to counter the plans they had uncovered. That Viturivion was letting her go…

    “Well. I certainly won’t deny having your company would make this journey far more pleasant. Truth be told, if I went into the woods alone I would most likely end up spending far, far too much time there. At least, if you accompany me, there will be someone I trust to make sure I don’t get distracted and lost.” He let out a soft laugh. “So then, my friend. Shall we head off to these dark and dreary woods?”

    Stare looked delighted. She nodded her head. “I'll need to just pack, but that will not take long. Shall I … meet you in a few out front?”

    ---

    The Red Forest stood before then, thick dark trunks with crimson and scarlet leaves, as if autumn had come early. It was a carpet of uncomfortable familiarity to Stare, with the spread over the vast landscape reminding her of the last time. When she had last stood here, on this low hill, seeing the wood disappear towards the horizon. That had been a period of time when she had not been party to Vitruvion's world, but now she was a kenku, found by her god.

    The pulsating deep blue stone slowly died of its luminosity, humming to a lesser, duller state. It had been given to her along with five others by Vitruvion just as they had left. Six - four light to move only slightly, one a little darker to move up to three miles, and one, this darkest one to do a simple, two part journey. To get both her and Nevin here and then back home.

    Slowly she breathed, and slipped the marble back into the black leather pouch now tied to her belt. Teleportation stones, enchanted by Vitruvion. They would be so very useful in the direst circumstances.

    Twisting around she looked to Nevin, wondering if he had ever teleported before. One moment they had been in front of the house, then next here. Miles away.

    “You alright?” She asked him.

    The teleportation had been disorienting, Nevin couldn't deny that. His body was adjusting to the fact that he was now somewhere else entirely, was still processing and reacting to the magic that had brought them here. He staggered slightly and squinted his eyes, taking a few deep breaths as he caught himself.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  2. #2
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    Nevin's Avatar

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    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
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    Corone
    “I… Yes. I'm alright, thank you.” That had been unexpected. She had simply taken his arm for a moment and he caught the edge of a smile on the corner of her beak, a flash of amusement in her eye - and then they were here. The little minx bird had pranked him, and he couldn't deny that it had been effective. But, now they were here, and he adjusted his armor, making sure the straps were tight as he looked around.

    Now that they had arrived, on the edge of the red forest, he could feel his skin dancing, his magic humming and purring just beneath his skin. If he had to place a name to the tune that his magic was creating, it would definitely be one of - of welcome, relief and quiet contentment? It was a strange sensation, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. There was also a thrum of anticipation running through him, like he was on the verge of something… Something important.

    But he had no idea what it was. So, instead, he heeded the words of warning pretty much everyone had been giving him if they knew he was coming here, and gripped his whip tightly. It would not be a good idea to be caught unprepared. .

    Stare had an amused glint in her eye as she slipped the marble in with its companions into her new pouch. There she stood, resplendent in her silvery chainmail and under tunic, her left hand covered in linked pieces that made a glove of sharp ends. For a moment she imagined what would happen if she dipped them into poison, how effective a weapon they would be.

    Her right hand curled into a fist and a clawed finger pointed at a small peninsula in the forest, where the trees grew out of the ragged line to edge closer to where they stood.

    “There is as good a place to enter as any,” she said, “The deeper we go the more likely it is we find the plants you want.” And the beast I hunt, she thought. But she was not wanting to say that to Nevin yet. Rather she would wait until they were closer to the place, when the tracks were clearer, just in case he freaked and refused to go any further in with her.

    With that said she rolled back her shoulders, shifting her small pack slightly before starting off.

    Nevin followed after his friend, frowning in thought as he turned that statement over in his head. Something about it was bothering him, but he couldn't quite place what - oh, no, he could. It was an easy mistake to make considering his normal obsessive compulsion towards gathering new plants and materials. He cleared his is throat, about to correct her - before pausing, the words caught in his mouth unsaid.
    - "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.

  3. #3
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    EXP: 54,966, Level: 10
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    Stare's Avatar

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    Avis Tsakaka
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    Female
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    She had been against his coming here in the first place, warning him that it was too dangerous. Could he really, really tell her that he didn't even know why he had to come here?

    No. No, she would think him mad and take him away from here. He would have to make his way back alone if that happened - and he didn't want that to be the case. Not for this, his first trip into the woods. In truth, not knowing why he had felt such a pull to the Red Forest did unsettle him a bit, but at the same time he couldn't deny the feeling of rightness, satisfaction, that danced across his skin as they broke through the tree line. A shiver ran across his skin, and a trace of tension that he never knew he had, lifted from Nevin’s shoulders as he took a deep breath.

    There was a feeling of something not quite right, not a wrongness but a strange note of hesitation, discordance, in the choir of his magic. He felt more at ease here than he had in a long, long time, but even now he wasn't quite… Home. It was like walking into a relative’s house - familiar and safe enough, but not your own home. He frowned unconsciously as he tried to figure out why his magic was resonating with this place.

    Behind him, Stare’s beak halves parted as she saw Nevin’s skin began to writhe. He seemed entirely oblivious of the fact as he sauntered forwards, concentrating. Blinking, she stared (that which she did best, after all) and watched as the blood-red tendrils that she had seen just once before, back in that terrifying prison of the Bounty Hunters, gently ease themselves from his body and weave into the air. They trailed from his neck and beneath his clothes, easing out in whatever gaps they could find. Swinging in the air they followed behind him like sniffer dogs, tasting the air and wafting on an unseen breeze.

    He seemed to not notice at all. His focused face did not show if it was intentional or not, but Stare thought it strangely curious. As far as she was concerned the objects for use of protection and attack, not in any way part of a sensing programme. Was he then, considering striking something? Was he just being cautious?

    “What danger is there?” she asked, curiously, not personally identifying anything herself, yet. Though they were in the wood itself, the trees had not yet thickened enough for there to be no escape route and possible death at every turning. “Nevin?”

    Nevin blinked, roused from his thoughts by Stare’s voice. He raised an eyebrow and looked around - aside from the trees, which were a rather pleasant red shade, he hadn't spotted anything. Why did she think there was a threat? He turned to look at her, tilting his head to one side.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  4. #4
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    Nevin's Avatar

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    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
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    Corone
    Nothing that I'm aware of. If anything I feel rather comfortable here. Haven't even spotted any man eating plants yet. There is a coppery tinge to the air though. Hmm.” He frowned as he opened his mouth and tasted that coppery flavor - mixed a little with other things, but definitely, to him, the flavor of blood. As he processed that, the humming along his skin picked up, gleeful wordless singing that seemed to be enthusiastic. There was the taste of something old, something dark - but the bitterness of that taint was fading. Strange, why did he know that?

    “But. We definitely haven't progressed deep enough into the woods yet - ah, let me take a sample of these trees before I forget.” No need to make her worry by acting uncharacteristically. Out came a knife and a pair of small clay jars with stoppers, and he dropped a piece of bark and some leaves into one, then scooped some of the thick, red sap that oozed out of the tree he had tested into the other jar. After sealing both, he tucked them into his bag and smiled at her. “Shall we continue?”

    Stare just watched him, incredulous as he turned … and seemed to just avoid his blood lines weaving out behind him in the air. He even seemed to react to them, sniffing and making clear, facial expressions as they reacted to different scents and tastes. Simply, dumbly she gawked as he pocketed the vials. Still his tendrils spread far and wide.

    “Nevin …” she sighed, and her brow scrunched in concern. Coming forwards she used her free right hand to pause, angle, then pounce with her full speed at one of the waving things.

    Clearly it did not expect it. After all, she was a being that could accelerate her body to something nearing a hundred miles an hour with a flash energy. Her hand swept out, grabbed hold of the tendril and exhibited a firm grip on it. It felt smooth in her hand, almost too so, and she feared it would slide out of her hold. Quickly, thus, she pulled it around to shove it in his face, before it could slip out.

    This,” she pronounced.

    Well, that was a rather different sensation. Nevin had been startled when Stare suddenly darted forward, one hand shooting past his head. For a moment he thought she was about to grab his hair for some reason, but… No that was definitely NOT hair she grabbed hold of. The firm pressure she was placing on his thread coil - to bring it around and make him realize that he had them out in the first place which was news to him - was actually quite - pleasant? Almost like a massage on a muscle that he hadn't realized was sore.

    As it was though, he blushed and yelped, and all of his threads retracted back inside of him, slipping back beneath his clothes and out of sight as a rather brilliant blush shot up his face, making the thin white scars on his neck and face stand out intensely.
    - "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.

  5. #5
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    Stare's Avatar

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    Avis Tsakaka
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    Female
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    Corone
    “I - I - uh - Uhm - right let's go!” And in what was a first Nevin turned and just barely kept his pace below a run as he moved into the trees.

    The blood mage was absolutely mortified - how had he not noticed that his threads had emerged from his skin? They'd never come out without conscious thought on his part before - was it because of this forest, this strange feeling of comfort and content that was dancing in his magic? As he thought about it he managed to feel, and prevent, his threads from slipping back out. Oh Crimson what would Stare think of him now??

    Stare watched him hastily bustle deeper into the depths of the trees. Her brow high she blinked a few, simple times, unsure of whether to laugh or to gawp. Her hesitation went on for so long that she realised he had almost drifted out of sight before she thought. Quickly, she dashed after him, her right hand curling into an awkward fist, unsure of whether what she had done was rude or embarrassing.

    Were their social etiquette rules for handling another’s extra limbs?

    Interesting, came the comment.

    Obviously he had been watching. She knew he would likely be watching this entire adventure, between whatever meetings he had today - personal or business.

    I will admit that was, she agreed.

    Vitruvion nodded a few times, an image he sent her, then leant back in his chair in his private study. She could feel the warmth between her fingers as he cupped warm tea to his breast. Inhaling fast, Stare threw the image from her mind, anxious for her friend. True, it was the first time she had felt a heat sensation between her and he, but that did not matter, not now. Nevin did more, and the fact that they were in a naturally dangerous place. Thus, she steeled herself for a possible attack at any moment.

    “Nevin,” she huffed as she caught up with him. “Its fine. Sorry for … Sorry.”

    Nevin kept his face firmly turned away from Stare as she caught up. He waved one hand back at her - he could not look in her direction or she would see the rather intense blush that was only now starting to drain from his head.

    “I'm the one who should be sorry. They've ah, never acted like that before. I also, uh, never knew I could actually feel things with them. It was a strange sensation.” And one he would have to experiment with - later. Stare was just a friend, and they were currently in what was called one of the most dangerous forests in the world. Experimenting with the strangely pleasurable sensations of having his threads handled would come later.

    Though. Finding someone who would handle what were, well, tendrils (he steadfastly would not call them tentacles), would be a difficult proposition. No, that would just have to be a concern for later. He had never noticed it before, so maybe it was just because he had been caught off guard, not paying attention? It was also the first time they'd been out without him having some kind of a goal for them, was there an unknown mental component as well? Hrm.
    Last edited by Stare; 12-12-2017 at 01:57 PM.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  6. #6
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    EXP: 61,139, Level: 10
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    Nevin's Avatar

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    3,657
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    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
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    22 / 37
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    Human (Godling)
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    Male
    Location
    Corone
    He looked around suddenly, frowning a bit before smoothing his face out. For a moment, just a moment, there had been a trace of something foul, a discordant note in the tune of his magic. It was unpleasantly familiar, but it was also gone before he could actually place what it was he was detecting. Instead of worrying himself about it, the blood alchemist smiled at Stare before moving on through the trees.



    She followed him, still a little amused, but her guilt more plain on her features. Even the fleshy corners of her mouth were slightly downturned as she headed after her friend. After a while, when the silence was more comfortable and both of them seemed less restless, Stare began to bring her awareness to the forefront of her mind. Again she focused on Nevin with her aura sight, once more seeing that slightly pink-tinged white hair-thin thread tangled with his strong crimson chord. Her eyes swept up and down his chakras, and then she found herself pausing, utterly astonished.

    First of all his solar plexus chakra was dimmer, and this spoke of shame. Shame, perhaps of what had occurred, close to embarrassment. It made sense in a way - but it was not the real emotion she noticed that shocked. Instead, there, glowing more than the others, was his sacral chakra, that which is seated at the base of the spine, just inches about the root chakra. Stare knew that a heated brightness there meant that he had experienced pleasure. By the way that it was wavering, she presumed he was trying to diminish the feeling, and that evidence joined with the embarrassment.

    Oh hells. He had been … aroused.

    Sucking in her breath Stare quickly looked away, with only a last glance to see his third eye light was dim - likely confusion. It made sense for both of them to feel that way, and she was certain it had only been developed because she had touched his-

    Ansaldo’s flaming balls, she cursed. I never want to think about this again.

    And picking up speed she marched ahead, trying to concentrate firmly on tracking. Tracking, sensing danger and making sure they were in no way about to die. That was a much better thing to do than to think about … that which she was not thinking about now.

    Nevin was still sorting out - and in some cases locking away - the feelings that had been generated when suddenly Stare rushed past him, her eyes firmly locked on the ground. For a second there was a flicker of her head turning in his direction, and the man was confused - why was she acting so differently now? It wasn't like -

    Oh Crimson. She'd told him she could see emotions. Right. Need to move on from those thoughts. Worry about sorting them out later, when his friend who could see emotions was NOT around. Yes that was a good idea. So Nevin coughed and firmly shoved the thoughts of claws on smooth red out of his ind-and then kicked them out even more firmly when he realized they had crept back in.
    - "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.

  7. #7
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    EXP: 54,966, Level: 10
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    Stare's Avatar

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    2,129
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    Avis Tsakaka
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    Kenku / Tengu
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    Female
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    Corone
    Instead he began to examine the plants around them, taking samples from some as they passed by. The thing that looked like a hanging vine of blood was interesting - it resembled his own threads, until he cut it open and out came red tinted chlorophyll. It was strange, from what he knew these plants should not survive without the true green hue, but somehow they not only survived but thrived. It must have something to do with the lingering magics of whatever entity had twisted this forest into what it was now.

    Then Nevin paused, his attention ripped to one side by something that was decidedly out of place. In the background of his mind, his magic was singing a low, ominous dirge - a warning. And he thought he could see the source of that warning call. It looked like just another of the hanging blood vines, and they had passed several already. But what had caught Nevin’s gaze was the way it had twitched as a bird flew beneath it - almost like a snake thinking of grabbing prey. It had paused, almost seeming to realize he was looking at it, and now hung quiescent from a branch. But looking closely at it as Nevin felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, he could see that the other end of the ‘vine’ was actually wrapped around the branch - not growing from it like it should.

    “Scarlet…” The word fell from his lips in disbelief and anger.

    Stare caught the thing in her gaze and her mind worked to connect the word he whispered with the image in her mind, coupled with the brief readings that she had done on the flora of the world. Brow furrowing she readied herself for combat, just in case, for it had made a threatening movement towards the bird.

    Answers? she asked.

    There was a short, but still silence. Then - It is not of my knowledge.

    That made her immediately tense. Vitruvion was a being as wise as his years and more. He had access to a vast database of knowledge of sciences and theories, namely his father Ansaldo. Also his library was large and he had read every book he could get his hands on. Knowledge to him was an essential part of existing, he thrived and thirsted for it, and had only grown more powerful ever since she had come his life. Anything he did not know of was either so new that nothing had been written, rumoured or thought about it yet, or it was from a different realm altogether.

    “Fuck …” she whispered, “Ansaldo’s tiny balls.” And she glanced to her friend. “Nevin, whatever that is … it is not a natural plant.”

    If it attacks, try fire. Plants are usually weak against fire.

    I presume you can bring me back if I die? she asked rather ironically, fumbling for her spark rocks at her pocket.

    Vitruvion looked oddly for a moment, his eyes narrowing and breath pulling in fast. He straightened and shut his sight off from her view. Just get on with it, was his dry, strange reply.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  8. #8
    Senior Member

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

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    Nevin Aimaparapoiitis
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    22 / 37
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    Human (Godling)
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Stare said something, her words and movements bouncing off of the brewing anger that was coiling in Nevin’s stomach. This thing should not be here, not in this place where he felt safe and comfortable! The thread-worm was still acting like it hadn't been spotted - and Nevin could see how it blended in, if he couldn't feel its repulsive taint he might have thought it just another of the Ruilsark vines.

    But no. This was a thread worm, a collection of threads so like his own, permanently melded together and guided by a malicious intent. Nevin didn't know why it was here, or why it was alone - if it was anything close to successful in hunting, it would have easily been able to replicate itself.

    Movement from the corner of his eye - Stare was preparing to fight it. Nevin couldn't let her do that - she was going to try fighting it conventionally if she was reaching for something in her pocket. Her Gaze might work, but unless she had a magical artifact with her that would be all that could. He had to act, kill this thing before it could get to her.

    Nevin burst into motion suddenly, sprinting towards the creature. He knew Stare could go faster than him - but he had the advantage of moving first, while she was still trying to get something out of her pocket. His legs ate the distance but he knew that if she tied to his dear friend would still be able to get ahead of him. So he cheated - or rather, he attacked from his full range. As the redhead ran forward, crimson threads shot out of his palm, weaving together into a long, strong cord that snapped forward, splitting the air with a crack as it smashed into the thread-worm.

    Before it could try to escape - the others had died soon hater being touched by his tendrils but he didn't know if this would - Nevin wound his threads around the monster and trapped it, binding it in place. Even now he could feel it squirming, trying to escape, thrashing against his hold. Grimly he held on, forcing his threads to hold the beast until it finally stopped moving.


    Shrrrkkk … the grinding sound hissed, and soon in her hand she had a fistful of flaming dead leaves. Stare held them in her gauntleted hand, knowing the idiocy of having them near metal, but it was the best she could do before Vitruvion made her fireproof. Flicking the spark stones into her pouch she began to run forwards, leaning down to scoop more debris as she did. The tendrils of the vines still writhed by the time she was running, only stopping when she actually got to their side.

    Personally she did not care what Nevin thought. Right now she was more or less experimenting, trying to deduce what might be a way to seriously harm this plant thing before it got them harsher. Thus, she used Nevin’s powerful hold for what it was, and placed her attack on one particular curve where the vine snaked over a branch. Letting out a string of very rude phrases in the kenku dialect she took a leap and practically flew to land on the branch. Still the leaves burned in her hand, but she was fast, and careful to keep the dirt beneath the heating leaves. As she landed with claws that were made sharper by cruel steel daggers on the hind claw she stabbed down, fast, with her mythril dagger. Then the dagger was gone, leaving a savage cut with which to bleed by, and it was into this newly formed wound that Stare literally shoved the fire into.
    - "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.

  9. #9
    Senior Member

    EXP: 54,966, Level: 10
    Level completed: 9%, EXP required for next Level: 10,034
    Level completed: 9%,
    EXP required for next Level: 10,034


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    2,129
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    0
    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    She shoved as best as she could, then stepped back, trying to ignore the pain at her hand. Where the fire had got too hot it had seared her clawed glove, and that in turn was steadily now singing her scaled palm. Shaking it off for the better emotion of glee she watched as the embers bit down into the heart of the vine, and Vitruvion swore at her.

    For the love of all that is me, he cursed her.

    Nevin watched with an eyebrow raised as Stare sliced open the tendril beast before it finished dying and shriveling up. He didn't know why she felt the need to do that - though he did get rather upset when he realized that she had hurt herself.

    Burning the insides of the scarlet thread worm ended up releasing a cloud of utterly disgusting smells, a pungent mixture like someone had taken a week old, bloated and rotten corpse, and set it aflame - but worse. There was also an acrid, thick black smoke rising from the burning flesh and fluid as the creature began to thrash anew, and it began to shriek in a terrible, scratching voice.

    Then, finally, it stilled and its screech was cut short. With a haul on his binding whip, Nevin ripped the worm thing from the tree branch, and stared at it for a long, long moment. Free of the hold he had had on the thing, the curled worm lay still and unmoving on the ground. There was a strange twisting spiral pattern along its flesh, marred only by the tear that Stare had inflicted on it. Aside from that, it was a smooth tapered cylinder, of a darker red than Nevin’s threads - but even now that hue was shifting to the brighter crimson. Except for where the fire had scorched it from the inside out - those parts were a deep, burnt black red.

    “I…. I am sorry. This… This thing is my… responsibility.” Nevin’s voice was thick - but he wasn't sure with what emotion. His eyes were fastened onto the unnatural creature and he did not think he could look at Stare. By now she would have seen the similarities between the thing and his threads, and he didn't want to see what expression that created in his friend. Instead he snatched the carcass up and shoved it into his bag, ignoring the foul remnants that splashed across his hands. “We-we should press on. Fire seems to be effective on them.” At least she would be safe if he messed up.

    Beneath her was … a creature. A snake or whatever rather than a plant. Pretending to be the plant. Slightly the same colour and texture as Nevin's tendrils but much more fierce. Still Stare's hand burned, the heated metal searing her hand darkly and with cruel intentions. But she would not let it bother her. Nor would she let it be an obvious pain. It was not so bad that she had to very quickly remove her gauntlet glove - rather it was like a hot cup that you needed to carry because small children were around you threatening to knock it off any reasonable surface.
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  10. #10
    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
    And there Nevin was, blaming himself. As she tried to make the effect of holding the flames not obvious, keeping her back to him as she began to work on the lacing of her glove with the tips of her claws - though very slowly. “How is a beast like that your responsibility?” she said thickly, trying to hide the agony. “It's just a large sausage that hates fire as equally as the next … well I thought it was a plant. Now I see it was cleverly disguised as one. Idiot,” she stopped herself saying any more as she drew off her glove and inspected her hand.

    A few blisters, but only small. Clutching her gauntlet between the claws she leant down a little and observed the creature. Looking from its head to its tail she slipped into the aura sight, taking a note of its bloody power source, which was all she could really tell from this mess. Its power lines writhed as it slowly let out its last breaths.

    No eyes, no obvious head. Long body, a form of twisted horror, Vitruvion murmured as he drew a rather excellent drawing off the beast. Stare nodded, her back still to Nevin.

    “I agree. Rather … disgusting,” she agreed. Outloud. Then she paused and winced. “Ah sorry. That was not to you,” she apologised to Nevin, letting her injured hand rest on the cooler ground.

    Winces and gentle motions - had she been -? Nevin’s gaze shot to the hand that was trying to be kept out of sight as he stepped to one side bringing the hand into view. The heavy tone to her voice was explained now - she had jumped onto the thing with fire in her hand. Nevin hadn't thought of it at the time, but it seemed like she had no special protection against the flames.

    On the gauntlet there were twists of blackened metal - where the fire had scorched it. The alchemist sucked in a breath, shoving his concerns about the creature aside for a moment. “Don't move that hand any more. One moment.” He began rummaging through his bag and pouches until he found two jars. As he pulled them out, one swished with the clear sound of a liquid inside.

    Swift movements uncorked the two small clay jars. From one a thick aroma, almost like a potent mint snell, rose. Gently and firmly Nevin took the wrist of the injured hand in his he as before picking up the jar that didn't have a powerful smell coming from it up. He looked up to Stare’s face locking eyes with her.

    “This will sting at first.” And with no more warning than that, he upended the jar over her hand sending a cascade of pale green fluid over down onto her hand. It was an antiseptic and analgesic - after the flare of sting from the antiseptic washing away anything that had gotten into the blisters and burns, the analgesic would numb her hand up. He released her wrist so she wouldn't get agitated by the contact, scooting back and holding up the other jar, the mint-smelling one.

    “When you're ready, this is a burn paste. I don't have a lot but hopefully neither of us will be getting burned after this.”
    - "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.

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