July Vignette

[Tobias Stalt]

Your character gets to go out on a date with another player character of your choosing.

Let the chaos ensue.

[Ioder]

The day started like any other, Ioder the ageless Seraphim had spent the prior night gallivanting around trying to exhaust the time until he could go and look for any lost Tap artifacts. His most recent venture into the Red Forest with Alyssa and Leona proved most useful seeing as they were successful in their endeavors. And to boot Ioder had Really become close with the Mage Gunner, like REALLY close. He was so exited when she actually accepted his invitation to have a few drinks with him the next day. She seemed like a drunk so they definitely would get along smashingly.

"Ummm sure." Alyssa replied to his awkward invitation. He would remember these words for the rest of time. She was so beautiful.

The day passed as Ioder awaited the designated meeting spot. A rustic pub just outside Beinost, he had been here before in fact this was where they first met. Hours he stood at the entrance to the old little pub waiting for his date. The Sun now hidden behind the mountain line in the distance. It was now getting to be late, much later than they agreed upon. "Where is she..." Ioder said under his breath in disappointment. Was this just her being fashionably late or had she blown him off. Ioder continued to wait for about twenty more minuets before heading inside the pub. Ioder had taken the for of his older self, appearing in his late twenties as not to cause a commotion in the bar. Taking a seat in the corner of the room at a table he had procured hours before set for two.

Six flagons of ale latter Ioder was spent, his vision blurred and his mental state in shambles. "ALYSSA!!!!" He drunkenly yelled as he stood up and swiped the empty mugs to the ground, shattering all of them. "You blew me o-off" He started to sat as he pointed to the bar maiden who was obviously not Alyssa Snow. After a few wobbly steps Ioder collapsed in his disappointment, FACE PLANTING ON THE HARD WOODEN GROUND. "why..." He said as he blacked out.

[Philomel]

A short but ... yes, necessary date. Caution: graphic detail.

Mine.

The word that entices villains.

Mine.

The one that breaks down walls.

Mine.

The word that captures hearts and possesses them with every bond possible.

"Mine," the faun's rapsy voice whispered, her breath stroking the golden flesh. "Mine, my lady," she said, pressing her body harder against the wall. "Mine again," she said, staring into the sand bitch's eyes, knowing that once more she had control here.

Not this time were there flames. Not this time was there a tumbling and breaking cathedral. Not this time were they enemies in the ruined island kingdom of Eiskalt. Instead now they were just residents of the same city, the same worls, equal on a level of being and beast.

Or half-beast, in Philomel's case.

Her horns scraped against the paintwork as breathlessly she bucked herself once more up into the waiting hole, knowing she could pleasure Astarelle into the next life, and then the next. It was her art, her skill, her will. And of course the priestess had come to her again wanting more.

More. More.

Yes, definitely a date, darling. Such a glamorous date. A date with lesbian lust and love, perhaps, on the Ixian's side. Something forbidden, something shocking. An assassin and a Knight. What would the gods think? Surely they would just look in wonder and see the beauty created here.

Thump. Moan. Arch. Shift.

Philomel bit softly into the flesh at the neck. "Roht Mirage," she murmured, "Roht fucking Mirage. Fuck me well."

[Karuka]

Sunset brought a new energy to Radasanth, a vibrant, buzzing hum that could hardly contain itself. The day’s purposeful bustle turned to a bubbling excitement. After dark in Radasanth, anything was possible.

In her uncertain teenage years and sullen, angry youth, Karuka had declined to participate. Now, freshly returned from far overseas, the night’s siren song lured her from her comfortable room and out under the flickering street lamps. She had left her weapons, armor, and phoenix behind, walking the night in a cool, midriff-baring turquoise ensemble that swished to the movement of her hips. Long red hair, let out of its tight braid, curled loosely over amber shoulders and cascaded down her back.

So many things had changed here, and the night sparkled with possibility…

“Wh...what’s that, sugar? You don’t see me for a decade and suddenly we’re strangers? How am I supposed to survive in a tough town like this without someone like you to protect me?”

Sandaled feet whirled, sky blue eyes probing the crowd to find the source of the voice, a call back to a week of soaring highs and horrific lows. The cause, both direct and indirect, of some of each of those wonderful and terrible times, was the tall, slender man who had called out to her. She knew those blue-gray eyes, that night-black hair, and the dimples that smiled out at her.

“Storm Veritas!” She laughed, wrapping him in a friendly embrace. Even a decade and more removed, she knew that scent - the clear, burned smell of earth after a torrential rain overlaid with sandalwood and tobacco. She knew the bony shoulder beneath his dapper jacket, she knew the strong, wiry arms that wrapped around her in return. She knew the sound of those lungs and that heart.

He stepped back after a few moments to look at her, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “You look every bit as beautiful in Corone as you did in Fallien.” He smiled again, offering her his arm. “If you aren’t busy, would you like to join me tonight?”

He led her to a small but nice cafe, where they caught up over delicately braised quail and crisp greens. He told her of some of his adventures since they’d parted, though she got the feeling he sanitized them a bit for her benefit; Storm wasn’t necessarily a good man, after all. She, in turn, told him of some of her adventures in the East. She might have enhanced a few details here and there; Karuka was Irish, and a good story deserved some embellishments.

They stayed long past they time the other patrons had left - Storm's exploits of old gave the man a reputation, and no one wanted to be the one to risk asking him and his companion to leave. It was the heady, insistent sound of drums in the street that drew them out.

Later, Storm would insist that he'd offered his hand and asked the vivacious redhead for a dance. Karuka would remember dragging the sometime-criminal out before he could say anything one way or the other.

Whatever the truth was - his, hers, or something in between - nimble feet picked up the time and athletic bodies wound and spin with and around each other. It was a celebration of life and living, of reunions, recollections, and the Radasanthian night. It was a celebration of old friends being brought back together by sheer fortune's favor, and of a moment they would keep forever if they could, a moment of joy.

Dawn found them still together, with Storm smoking a cigarette while tracing idle patterns on Karuka's neck with his long, thin fingers. "I'm headed back to Fallien. The ship leaves this afternoon. I could find some space for you, if you wanted..."

"Y' could even pretend t' be a gentleman?" She smiled. "I've just had a long journey, and would like t' stretch my legs a bit. But... if y'come back t' Corone and I'm still here, come an' find me."

[Urei]

(So NOT cannon)

The air was tepid, afoul with the reek of the meek and bland. Their pores radiated bitter and jaded perfume that thrust itself into Leir’s nostrils as he walked past. The vampiric demon’s nerves were on edge as he waded through this cesspool of tedium. His fingers twitched, barely containing the urge to liven up their dreary lives with a flourish of red. Only a little bit spilled would give them something to talk about, and break the horrifying boredom. Maybe he would rip apart a father, and encourage a son to become powerful enough to hunt down the demon. Then, in the cathartic moments as the child, reared by misery, faced his ultimate villain he would be struck down. Hopefully in his training and life the boy would have fathered an heir, to begin the process again. Each one might take the course of 15 years, but if he spread out his victims he could have a fairly consistent stream of “heroes” to devour, made strong by their hate.

Lost in his thoughts, the scent almost passed him by. Its sharpness managed to cut through the stream of consciousness, however, and spun his entire form around like a compass. The demon immediately spotted the source, a tawny haired scrap of life that was merely a boy. Baggy pants, a simple vest, and some daggers. Nothing much for the eyes, but what lay underneath told a different story. Clean as he was, the demon could smell power and blood on that boy’s hands. Years and years of blood.

Power bounding through his muscles, Leir gave a great leap through the air, his arms stretching out wide. Almost a moment too late the boy turned with reaction time that was almost beyond belief. The ‘attack’ was dodged with ease, a rush of power pouring through the boy’s form that made excited hairs stand up on the demon’s neck. Gray energy formed between his palms, and Leir could barely make out the words ‘Life is passing you by’ whispered into the wind like a curse. Before he knew it an orb of energy shot past him, just barely missing him. It was then that one of the mundanes spoke up.

“I-i-its the d-d-demon! T-t-the lavinian demon!”

The shout was a church bell in a belfry of bats. Bland blood contained in uninteresting bags of meat fled every direction, singing their chorus of fear. Leir took a moment to savor it, salted only by disappointment that it was not a meal served for him. They all seemed to fear the child before him, who seemed meager and uninteresting. Of course, the demon knew different. His blood was so strong he could have smelled a single droplet from a mile away.

----

What came next, most who witnessed would speak of as a clash of horrible evil, and then go silent.

Demon and Hex Mage romped through the city, magic and death blasting every direction. Many times the boy managed to easily escape the demon’s grasps, ripping it to shreds only to find it regenerating at an ungodly rate. Buildings collapsed with heavy stone sighs, streets were reduced to rubble, and from the boy’s mouth many a passerby learned various new expletives. In the end, few could say how the battle ended, for survivors were sparse. One scared old man swears by his last tooth that he saw the pale creature sitting comfortably at one of the outdoor cafe’s. His story goes that the Demon of Lavinya was bound and gagged in a chair, being served various cake samples by the vampire. A one sided conversation was being held, speaking of such strange things as what kind of dresses would look good for the season. The most horrifying detail was of a single straw poking out of the boy’s neck that the vampire would suck on lovingly. Elderly as he was, he would include details that lead the listener to believe it was a mutual relationship. One of lover and captive turned grateful.

Of course, the story was scoffed at as myth for it was too ludicrous to believe.

[Alyssa Snow]

Closed to be Judged.

[Lye]

This is horribly overdue:

1st (2215) Karuka:

1200 EXP
200 GP

Very well done flow and coverage of time over the entirety of the short story. Elements were pulled in to acquaint the reader with the familiarity of the two characters. Little details were peppered in to create a pop and touch of intrigue. No obvious typos or grammatical errors.

2nd (10928) Urei:

160 EXP
150 GP

The prose had a more elegant and poetic flow throughout. The initial scene lacked a clarity as to the actions of the two, but became more apparent over time. The tale as recalled by the elder gentleman added a nice comic touch in contrast to the chaos and despair above it. No obvious typos, but some sentences had to be re-read for clarity.

(17225) Philomel

300 EXP

Very stylized use of prose. Repetition and on word fragments lent power to the message in the scene. Unfortunately, the vague nature of the style chosen created a detachment. The scene also covered a short span of time and read more like a poetic description than an event. Some misspellings were present.

(17424) Ioder

200 EXP

The scene covered a large expanse of time and offered a touch of backstory. For content, the post provided enough information to understand the "why". The capitalization of certain words were a stylistic choice that would have benefited more from bold or italics. Even though the scene covered a large chunk of time, it didn't contain many points of interest or action. Some spelling errors were present.

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added.