Private - Hell's Hart

Private - Hell's Hart
Discussion in 'Brisshal' started by Ms. Magpie, Apr 27, 2018.
  1. Some nights, Ms. Magpie couldn’t sleep, she could only dream. Her initial foray into Terrasphere had been met with turmoil, so it was hardly a surprise that attempts at rest had been wracked by nightmares. When did her nightmares end and Terrasphere begin, however? Questions of that magnitude left her mind further wracked as she made her way out of town, at least partially revitalized from her earlier toil and trouble. Every step of the way she was greeted by the suggestion that none of this may have been real, and then the stunning remembrance that none of this actually was real--it was just a game, after all.

    All alone, the witch sighed to herself. She needed to relax, and in town she had been able to piece together all she needed to relax. What she lacked, was a place where she could actually indulge in tranquility. Sure, the village of Honeyhome had a rather lovely garden that under normal circumstances would have been the ideal place to unwind. Predictable circumstances had made the garden far less ideal. Before her cold, dead eyes could even become affixed on the garden, she heard the terrible sounds of children at play. If she were to relax, she was going to have to take a trip.

    When last she ventured out into the woods, she nearly perished. Going out again was a necessary risk, she thought. Like anyone else, Ms. Magpie had a deep appreciation for alone-time, and around every corner in town had been a hurdle. From the buzzing of bees, to the incessant buzzing of bees, all the noise had been chipping away at her sense of tranquility. Having made an off-handed complaint under breath, she had been told of a seclusive spot within Brisshal--a pond. Without a moment of hesitation, she was off.

    Out in the wilds, there had been plenty of noise, however, the noises were all far easier on the ears. Birds and their songs were far more pleasing to the ears than the sounds of honey production. However, the pleasantness of the natural world started to fade once she realized just how far she had slipped from town. Every gentle sound of the forest started to take up a more sinister air. Anything could be lurking out there. One wrong turn could have lead her down another slime filled ditch.

    Immediately she felt a cold jolt, as if she had woken up from a deep sleep. She hadn’t. Ms. Magpie was where she was, as she was. Picking up her pace, she continued onward, along the beaten path.

    Before long, she finally encountered a clear, greenery encased pond. She had been assured that it was safe. Still having reservations, the witch remained wary as she made her way down to the verdant shore. Intimidated by her own gaze, she quickly broke the reflection with the beaten old kettle she had gotten in town.

    It was times like that her expertise in alchemy kicked in. She had hand selected the herbs she personally needed, from the village’s, albeit limited, selection. While she lacked the facilities to make impressive potions, she certainly had the wherewithal to make her own herbal teas without any major issue. Kneeling, she tightly griped the chain of her carefully packed tea bell, and gazed into her water-filled kettle. Her eyes widened, suddenly she became overwhelmed by feeling of another nightmare wading over her. She felt her skin go clammy and cold, while her stomach twisted. Once more, she had been foiled by her greatest enemy--herself.

    If the witch hadn’t already been on her knees, she would have fallen with a great shock. Luckily for her, she was all alone, so there was nobody to get a view of her in her state of embarrassment. Her realization that she was unsure of how to start a fire was one that she needed to work through without the judgmental eyes of anyone else in the world. It was the only way that she could preserve her own dignity without having to figure out how to cast a memory loss hex.

    What may have been worse yet, was if someone witnessed her fumbling around with one of the most basic acts of adventuring.This had to be the sort of thing covered by assisted mode, right? Did it have options outside of combat? Fiddling around, Ms. Magpie sought to answer these questions. Her day may have ended up in complete shambles from its already relatively ruined state if she had been left unable to enjoy her tea by the pond.
     
  2. A pale, sweaty figure could be seen drying himself off within what looked like a personal gym. David, now taking a break from his brief foray into the realm of fantasy, had just finished his daily physical workout. Whilst pumping the figurative iron he mulled over his prior experiences inside the game. He felt that his demeanor within the game was affected somehow, perhaps stemming from the race he was 'given'. Subconscious thoughts, feelings, and prejudice that he hadn't possessed before had made themselves known. Not to mention his strange decisions and poorly thought out plans. It was all he could do to remind himself to not 'lose' himself, though that likely wouldn't work.

    It wasn't so bad. After all, he experienced things he had never experienced before. His purposefully calm nature might prove rather pointless in a game where death wasn't permanent. In any case, with his routine finished and food soon to be in his belly, he'd soon be back in.

    Some time and one hot meal later, David dived back into the head of Varudan. He 'awoke' in the middle of the road with no landmarks or signposts in sight. No one was in sight either, so he naturally just wandered one direction down the road. What felt roughly like an hour later, he heard a noise from the left side of the road. Rather than the sound of a twig snapping, it sounded more like an oncoming car driving through a stick-emporium. That is to say, a large object heading his direction through the forest. Through the underbrush and sparse trees, Varudan couldn't see a thing. A sense of déjà vu overcame him suddenly, his instincts telling him to run away. Deciding to heed his instinct's advice, the wolf man ran to the other side of the road from the oncoming entity. As it turns out, hurtling through the undergrowth of a forest does quite the number on poor quality beginner's pants. Especially ones that had already seen their fair share of abuse on the 'day' prior. All manner of unseen briers, branches, and other plant matter tore at the coarse, weak fabric, shredding it with ease. The only thing remaining of his beginner attire were the same black featureless briefs he had seen briefly when skipping the customization of his character.

    Nearly naked but not all that afraid, Varudan's normal instincts finally told him to climb a tree. Only hearing the sound of his own heart pumping blood through his body, he remained perfectly still. A wave of sudden exhaustion hit him, prompting him to open his menu. Naturally, his stamina gauge was practically depleted from his sudden dash through the woods. The stinging on his legs and abdomen were matched by his health gauge being only slightly higher than when he had logged off. His ears suddenly pricked up as he heard the noise from before, only at a safe distance that wasn't heading towards him. Unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed, Varudan sighed. A glimmer caught his eye as he sat waiting for his stamina to recuperate. In the distance, through the branches, he spotted the shine of water. Unexpectedly eager, he slipped from the tree, making his way carefully lest he lose what remained to protect his dignity on the way there.

    His strange excitement blinded him somewhat as he tunnel-visioned in on the pond, promptly performing a graceful dive into the shimmering waters. A normal individual might let loose a groan upon being immersed in the refreshing waters, given the amount of sweat, scratches, and overall discomfort Varudan had been feeling since being unceremoniously dropped into a pit of mud. However, he was made of sterner stuff or at least less emotional stuff than that of common man. His brief dip led him to the opposite side of the pool, where his athletic, powerful figure drove him onto the shore with a spectacular, riveting force. Sparkling drops of water cascaded off his pale, muscular form, unfortunately spattering onto whatever attempts of a fire his unwitting spectator was working on. He turned with his ever-present calm expression and charming blue eyes, showing a trace of surprise as he saw the familiar figure.

    He greeted her briefly, "Hello, Miss. Sorry to disturb you."
     
  3. No. This was entirely unacceptable, she wasn’t going to allow herself to be bested by this. She was a witch, and if she was ever going to nefariously burn her own cauldron she was going to have to master the seemingly forbidden art of starting a fire. Magic was far more complex than this; it may have nearly killed her, but she had ultimately cast a spell. Logic dictated that if she could bend reality to her whim, then she could certainly figure out to to ignite kindling and boil water.

    All of the necessary components were there, except for one: Friction. She did not need to be gentle, these sticks were plentiful. Despite her desire to remain focused on uncovering the secrets behind this rudimentary activity, she found herself momentarily distracted. A splash. Turning her head, she caught glimpse of a ripple in the water. No matter. Even when she did not intently watch, she kept her hands busy; grinding her twigs into… smoke? Alchemical thinking lead her down the path she required--the path once discovered by pleistocene era hominids. She had done it. In her kindling burned the smallest of embers.

    In proper form, she caught the sound of another splash; this time, something emerging from the shallow depths. What followed, was tragic. Ember expanded into the roar of a small flame, into a pitiful wisp of steam. Trickles of water ran down the back of her neck, but she had been so fixated on the emotional torment of the death of the precious fire that the physical world had melted away. In that moment, she was not convinced that she was not in one of her nightmares. She would awake, and curled on the floor beside her bed in Daejeon.

    Darkness did not encompass her. She was still there in the light of day. There were no sounds of the the early morning of a city, there were only the splashing of frogs, and the sizzling of steam. Just when she wanted a nightmare, she was given the sour note of reality. Looking up, she felt a warmth rush to her pale cheeks, which lit up in red. Out of the blue moon, it was the wolf, and this time, he was somehow less dressed from before… and glistening.

    Attempting to regain her composure, she cleared her throat, “Hm.” For a moment her real-self had permeated through her persona. Her cold gaze returned to her failed fire, “You again? You seem to be doing well.” While she lacked a certain level of expertise, she at least had a certain level of common sense. She knew she would have to remove the now wet kindling, and start anew. In doing so, she attempted to keep conversation, to try and move past her moment of ‘shock’. Still, she felt that there was much to talk about, “I am very sorry. I am afraid I did not have a chance to thank you back then and there.”

    And now, she had the perfect opportunity to make amends, “There is no need to concern yourself further over this disruption, it is quite alright. I am putting some tea on--a personal blend.” She offered, her voice carrying a needless chill for such a warm invitation, “Would you like to join me?”
     
    Last edited: Apr 27, 2018
  4. As Varudan's cold eyes met Ms. Magpie's similarly icy ones, he briefly examined the woman. He hadn't previously taken in her appearance, as he was distracted by both the slime and the dire stag. Though he couldn't quite get an accurate measure of her height, her spindly, long limbs attested that her height was considerable for a woman. Her unearthly beauty, long ears, and distinct bearing were quite intriguing in all honesty. Rather than impolitely stare too long, Varudan caught himself before he could be accused of such. His eyes focused back on what she was working on. The soggy makings of a fire lay in front of her, likely spoiled by his immediate emergence.

    Her brief, chilly thanks and oddly frigid invitation left little room for him to say no. Normally, he'd have left by now, but her cold attitude and demeanor had intrigued him, "I'd love to join you, my thanks."

    A hint of an apologetic smile crossed his face briefly as he backed away a safe distance before ridding himself of the excess pond-water still dripping from his form as best he could. Frustratingly, his new tail seemed to hold water much like any other bushy dog tail. Refusing to shake his tail like a common mutt, he could only hope for her attempts at fire-making to be unaffected by his earlier unwitting sabotage. Rejoining her at a respectful distance, he refrained from asking about what was in the tea. Instead, he spoke some words, "I don't think I did anything thank-worthy back there," he mused to her with a slim smile and a calm voice, "I wasn't expecting that to happen to the slime. Nor was I in my right mind when I attempted to drop-kick a moose sized stag."

    "My name is, uh... Varudan," his expression twisted a bit at the name still, "May I know your name, Miss?" His eyes couldn't help but be drawn back to her limbs. Ms. Magpie seemed to be at least seventy percent leg.
     
  5. Now there was a surprise. It was simply polite to offer tea when you intended to make a cup yourself, she hadn’t expected the gruff wolf-man would agree. Now she was a host. The added pressure, however, proved to help things along. Her second flame was brought into fruition with little to no actual trouble. The risk of another figure emerging from the beneath the still waves was so abysmal, that for once, her kettle was able to warm up unaccosted.

    Her thanks, had, similarly, been a necessary social grace. Between slimes and bucks, enough had happened to be noteworthy. Regardless of any failed, or outright exasperated outcome, there had still been attempts. Varudan showed an admirable humility. Self-criticism was a good trait to have amongst tea. She was certainly not in the mind to attempt to argue, and try to spin his assault into something heroic, nor was she in any mind to bring it up in mockery. The past was there be acknowledged, learned from, and ultimately, become just a faint memory.

    Of course, he wasn’t the only one who had gone through with some questionably executed plan. Laying out a set of three cups, Ms. Magpie sighed a bit. She filled one of the vacant cups with honey, and turned her gaze towards Varudan’s soul, “We all made a bit of a fool of ourselves there.” She dully remarked. She, without question, was alluding to the mess of a illusion she had conjured. In the heat of the moment she made a lapse in judgement, or maybe worse yet, basic biology.

    In time, the roar of water overtook most of the other ambient noise. Moving her kettle off the flame, she introduced the bell. The inner workings of the kettle were only graced with light for a sliver of a moment before the lid was clamped shut once more. Whatever this tea was, it held a faint bluish tinge to it, “Patience.” She suggested. Brewing tea was a very delicate chemical process--or at least, that was a belief held by Bae Seul-gi.

    But, she wasn’t Bae Seul-gi, rather, “You may call me, Ms. Magpie.”

    Wafting outwards were light scents of chamomile, spearmint, which were followed by something more intense… and foreign. Even to Ms. Magpie’s more mundane senses, she could feel a weight being lifted off of her mind from the fumes alone. This particular blend didn’t need to be brewed especially long; it benefited from being a bit on the weaker side, or at least, that was her expert opinion. Without a word, she went through the motions. She tackled the tea setting as if she had had were preparing a table, when all she had was the ground.

    Something had been missing, and oversight. Looking up from her setting, she gestured towards the kettle, “I am afraid that because I did not anticipate company; I neglected to bring any milk.” She warned with a great sense of severity, “Will you be able to manage without?” Questioned the witch.
     
    Last edited: Apr 28, 2018
  6. A ghost of a smile flashed across Varudan's face. There was indeed quite a bit of foolery from the other parties involved in the stag and slime event, but he saw no reason to say anything about it. Besides, it probably wasn't her fault she'd never seen deer before... right? Maybe she lived somewhere without deer like Antarctica or Australia (at least naturally wild specimens). If he was some other rude individual, he might be tempted to mention that he was somewhat of an expert on deer. Given his fairly vast experience hunting and disassembling deer on nearly a weekly basis, it was safe to say he could probably be a top cervine surgeon if he really felt like it. The only thing barring his entry into the veterinarian field was the fact that he liked the taste of venison too much. Though, as before, all of this was likely better off unsaid. Instead, he attempted to identify the virtual tea being made in the virtual pot.

    Varudan, while he liked to think he was a learned man, could not know everything. This lack of knowledge also pertained to the field of tea. While he enjoyed tea, it was limited to the common, sugar-ridden store bought brands. If it contained strawberry and kiwi, he might have been able to detect whiffs of it with his now improved sense of smell. However, other than what smelled like mint and medicine, he had no real idea of what was in it. When the question of milk came up, rather than replying, he focused on the fact that his presence had somehow meant that she had forgotten to bring any milk. Again, thoughts springing unbidden to his head were better off unsaid. He simply replied, "I will manage."

    He was tempted to ask how she took her tea outside of the game, but he suddenly realized that he wasn't sure it was a player. Varudan had assumed earlier that she was, but she had made no mentions nor clues. A normal person from outside the game likely wouldn't have invited his vaguely clothed, sodden self to tea. Putting that aside, he turned his attention to the surrounding clearing. The pond had returned to its glass-pane stillness, and the sounds of birds told him there likely wasn't too much immediate danger. A damp chill went up his back suddenly, reminding him of the fact that his new tail was still soaked. Turning slightly askew, he wrung what water he could out of his tail before pulling it toward the small fire. He held it a comfortable distance away, letting it dry while waiting for the chilly, generous woman's tea.
     
  7. The auroma unto itself was therapeutic. As it was allowed to brew, more complexities were brought out. More unusual scents blended together to form a gentle, earthy mix. Ms. Magpie uttered not a word to signal that she believed her tea had reached its optimal state of brew. Without pause, or hesitation, she simply grasped the handle of her combination pot-kettle, and issued a curt nod.

    With a mechanical elegance she went through the motions of a proper afternoon tea ritual. As was customary, she prepared a cup for Varudan--her guest--first. Western-style teacups had the advantage of ears; this advantage spilled over into western beer mugs, which she actually had on hand. She had neglected to bring blanket or any surface to separate the ground from the cup, which added a bit of trouble in the art of serving. Left with no other option, she held up Varudan’s soon-to-be teacup, so that he wouldn’t have to suffer the indignity of having had his tea poured in the grass.

    Flowing from the spout was a shimmering liquid of a far deeper azure than what could have been seen from its momentary exposure. What was doubly unusual was the color of the steam that danced on its surface; a green that did not belong the already vibrant drink. Her eyes carefully watched as the tea-levels within began to rise. Simply because her tea-implement of choice was larger than usual, did not mean she was going to serve an exorbitant amount of tea, that would have been quite silly. Once satisfied, she offered the mug over to Varudan, “Careful. It can still scald.” Was her word of advice, with a free warning.

    It would be on him to get his own honey, however. She could not account for personal tastes. For herself, there was only the faintest dollop of honey, and a suggestion,“I would not recommend too much honey; the herbs were carefully selected--the flavor is deliberate.”

    She had the feeling that, despite having agreed to tea, he might not have fully trusted the mix. It was quite unusual, even as far as common teas of Terrasphere went. So, as a show of good faith, she lifted her own mug , "Fear not." She joked, in a tone that did not imply anything other than an palpable level of gravity behind her little insinuation. As intense as some of the earlier scents in the brewing process may have been, they certainly didn’t do justice to the final product. What Ms. Magpie had brewed was very clement. Certainly not boring by any means, it should have been clear that this blend was not one meant to excite, but to help one relax. Whatever accentuated the chamomile and spearmint, elicited a traveling unfurling sensation, which personally sought to ease tension.
     
  8. This was much more like it.

    No longer hampered by an amateurish comprehension of controls, the Faerin could now run with the freedom they were capable of in the world outside this virtual reality. Trading paved streets and alleyways for the verdant woodlands of Brisshal took some adjustments. More attention paid to avoid the odd branch or uneven ground that might result in a trip, or avoid strange noises that Theoni might otherwise head straight towards to start some trouble. She was still unarmed of course, and lacking in knowledge of how to use any of the skills her character has specialised in before appearing in this strange land.

    Running was all she had now but it was thrilling. Theoni could even overlook the pauses when the gauge that dictated her ability to prolong physical activity diminished, flooding her with a virtual fatigue that required recovery time. The Faerin always made sure to make her way to a tree before the tiredness kicked in, nimbly climbing to the lower branches and waiting out the inaction until her virtual body was ready to go again. Would maintaining this routine allow her to run further or faster in the future? She could not be certain. It did allow her to cover ground quickly though. And when the woods grew darker, with the noises all around her growing more concerning, that added urgency had brought more progress into the girl's sprints as she tried to find the fabled refuge of Honeyhome Village.

    The Faerin paused in the dark and put her hands on her knees. Short, quick breaths to combat the low gauge limiting her spring, she quietly cursed her utterly terrible sense of direction. Her instructions from the swamp had seemed simple enough. This way, then that, use landmarks to know she was on the right track.... to be honest, the creep who gave those directions was of questionable ilk so her full attention had not been granted. Chances were it was some trap and by ignoring the chump, Theoni had avoided falling into it.

    "Dumb mutt." muttered the Faerin, letting go of her knees and looking ahead. She did not need direction to find a simple starting village... in the dark her eyes were lured to light in the shadows of the wood. Curious she looked to the nearest tree and grabbed a low branch, her small stature and light weight meaning it did not groan as she clambered on top to compensate for her lack of height.

    "Hey, that could be it!" Theoni realised, and hopped down from her branch onto the grass below. The distance was not too far to her destination and fatigue was still at bay, she started into another sprint at the light source, figuring it a better prospect than endlessly running in the darkness. This Faerin was fed up with tripping over every unseen branch. As she charged out into the light, the short girl noticed a glimmer of water. She paused to look at the sight and then noticed to the side was a fire, and also the presence of two figures. She charged into the gathering, approaching the flames without a second thought and crouched down beside it.

    The Faerin perched as she held her hands to the warmth of the fire. It felt great after running around covered in swamp mud for what felt like hours. She was quite a mess to behold, the only neatness to her were the braided pigtails that framed her face. Otherwise she was randomly splattered with mud, her white starter clothing riddled with dirt and twigs. Only after a few seconds of warming up did she care to acknowledge the owners of the fire.

    "Yo, wassup." greeted the Faerin, looking first at the spindly woman with the kettle and then the half naked dog-man sitting closer to the pond. On the strangely unclothed figure, Theoni paused and frowned.

    "Freaking dog people..." She sighed, the animal eared fellow the second she had met and apparently just as weird as the chubby one. Rather than try to figure out what his problem was besides a lack of clothing, she instead looked back to the lady with long ears. There was a weird smell occupying this camp light gathering. Theoni looking to the kettle and remembering she needed to eat and drink in this world.

    The Faerin made sure to smile extra sweetly and adopt her cutesy voice. It had been practised a few times when waiting out the fatigue on the way here.

    "It's nice to meet you, miss! I'm Theoni! Could I have a drink please? I'm ever so thirsty..."

    ((Removed night references, had wrong time of day))
     
    Last edited: May 3, 2018
  9. Always patient, Varudan let Ms. Magpie work her magic as he simply... observed. Not the making of tea, in particular, but rather just the overall sensations, sights, and sounds he was experiencing. Being his second 'dive', he was still rather infatuated with the game. He felt the chill of the water, the sogginess of wet fur, and the dry comforting heat of a fire. All of the sensations were pretty much identical to those he experienced in real life. The only thing mildly unsettling about the whole thing was the game aspects. Why even bother with the game part of it? They should've simply set up a system and let the players explore it naturally. He had read previously that the game had less restrictions than any other game, but it somehow still felt stifling in some aspects.

    His senses were directed back to the immediate, long-legged issue nearby once she began to pour the tea into the 'teacups'. His suspicions as to the identity of this mysterious, chilly woman were alleviated somewhat due the choice of her beverage containers. No self-respecting 'NPC' would commit so many tea faux pas unless it was the weird hobby of one of the programmers. Not to mention, the disturbingly blue liquid pouring into the beer mugs looked nearly identical to barbicide.

    Nevertheless, Varudan took the mug with a slight smile. "I'll let it cool a bit then. My senses haven't quite adjusted yet." He touched a finger to one of his spiffy new ears, perhaps to explain. He listened carefully at her mention of the honey, responding with a calm "I'll keep that in mind." He thought momentarily about whether to add any honey, but he decided that to suitably dilute the tea to a safe level would only serve to offend Ms. Magpie.

    To apparently alleviate any misgivings he had of the anti-septic-looking tea, she did him a favor by drinking first. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he just didn't trust whatever the mysterious ingredient was that she included. Varudan was fairly certain it wasn't blue raspberry kool-aid. His ears suddenly picked up movement from the edge of the clearing, swiveling in that direction to precede his eyes. Oddly, it was neither a giant slime nor a rampaging, dire buck; instead, it was a little girl with elongated ears. As far as he knew, it was just a child version of whatever Ms. Magpie was; likely some kind of elf.

    The little elf unceremoniously intruded on what felt like a ceremonial ritual, at least to Varudan. Plopping herself by the fire to warm herself, she only spoke an out of place, "Yo, wassup," before casting a disparaging look and remark towards Varudan. He wasn't sure why she had such little regard for dog-people, though perhaps it was his state of dress. Though, given his still damp state and the presence of a pond, it wasn't hard him to conclude that she might be a little more forgiving.

    "Hello there, Miss." As always, he didn't let any of these feelings show on his face. It was all he could do to put on his most friendly, slim smile. Apparently wanting to bum some tea off of Ms. Magpie, the girl changed her tone. The cajoling, wheedling 'little girl' voice was such stark contrast to the 'wassup' from before that it almost knocked the well-trained smile from his face. Luckily for Ms. Magpie, Varudan wasn't an eager beaver to try the barbicide tea, perhaps saving her the trouble of brewing more. He offered the partially filled mug to the girl, "If you feel so inclined, you can have this mug. It should be suitably cooled off; and I haven't yet drank from it"
     
    Last edited: Apr 30, 2018
  10. Her time in the virtual world had been limited, but in that limited span of time she had seen a stressful amount of trouble. With every sip came a soothing whisp that flowed through her muscles, as if a masseuse’s specter had become trapped within her. Part of the overall soothing factor of her herbal blend was the great heat of the tea. Warth had a certain comfort to it, and when a hot bath wasn’t an option, a lone hot drink had to do the trick. The Witch could not account for personal tastes, not yet, “Take care to not let it go cold.” Warned the witch in a needlessly witchy way.

    Even while deep in conversation, her wolf-compatriot wasn’t greatly talkative. When she didn’t have an eldritch string of nonsense words to blurt out, Ms. Magpie was also one to remain in a fit of silence. In the gaps between their brief exchanges, there had been a lot of nothing else happening. Occasionally, a small creature would disturb the sanctity of the pond, but otherwise--catching the sound of rustling, the witch turned her attention away from her cozy tea party… had it been nothing?

    Nope...

    Whomever told Ms. Magpie that this little hideaway was seclusive, was either a charlatan or a fool. Cursing her lack of greater knowledge of hexes, she kept steadfast in the face of something terrible--a child, possibly. She already suffered enough at the hands of children in the world of Terrasphere, and was notably unwilling to suffer once again. There was already something off about this clearly unscrupulous child, with her jarring turn from the “yo” of a brigand to most innocent of pleads. However, several sips into her special blend had lightened her up. The stresses of the world had melted away, as did a causes for alarm. For once, there was an almost unusual tinge of pleasantness to Ms. Magpie’s usually dour expression.

    Even through his stoicism, Varudan, wore his hesitation on the very edges of his, purely metaphorical, sleeves. However, the wolf was not in luck. Before Theoni could do something absolutely barbaric (snatch the tea, or kill them both), Ms. Magpie brought her hand up in a halting gesture, “No need...” She rather gently interrupted Varudan’s attempted out. Moreso than with concerns of alchemy and magic, Ms. Magpie was never without a contingency in matters of tea. She had prepared plenty in the event that she herself would go for a second, and perhaps third cup.

    Turning her gaze at Theoni, the witch responded in kind to the young grifter's cunning ruse, “You certainly may. I am Ms. Magpie, and I have prepared a more than sufficient amount.” She responded, her tone reaching a plateau of tranquility. Hidden away in her alchemy pouch was a proper, albeit crude(and diminutive), tea bowl. In another lapse of judgement she had ended up buying the particularly small cup, ignorant to the fact that it had been designed with another race in mind. She had measured the little cup to be around eighty milliliters; which was common enough measure in number of alchemical blends. Setting her own mug down, she poured out yet another still very deliberately measured serving.

    When it came to tea, however, children were notoriously picky. Seemingly afraid of the natural taste of herbs, they usually drowned out any semblance of plant life with sweeteners and creamers. Ms. Magpie was limited in both fronts,“There is some honey if you’d like. No milk, I am afraid.” She cautioned, still offering the partially filled bowl to Theoni.

    Cries of “yo wassup” had a bad habit of waking terrible things from their slumber, and cutting teas short. Distantly, a peculiar low growl broke through the clamor of silence. Probably nothing.
     
  11. With the sweet noises of her virtual vocal chords, who could resist bending to the will of the Faerin? Theoni persisted with her sweet smile, a sparkle to her round brown eyes as she stared at the taller woman. At any moment the lady would break, fawn over her adorable appearance and be like putty in her hands... that was the plan at least. As with most plans concocted by the mind behind Theoni, they often proved fruitless or deviated wildly from the intended path.

    First the dog eared guy tried to intervene, the sparkling eyes of the diminutive girl transforming to daggers as they glanced in his direction. Maybe it was meant to come of as a sincere offer, but in his present appearance, did the chump really expected anyone to perceive him as anything but a freak? Take a cup of anything from a wet mutt? He had probably drooled slobber all over it like a dumb mongrel! However, before Theoni could verbally confirm her disdain for both the offer and the man behind it, the lanky lady dismissed it on her behalf.

    Her eyes flicked back to the tea bearer, a resumed youthful wonderment as she watched the long eared stranger go about her craft. Rather than a mug, she appeared to be getting a small bowl of the stuff, which from relative size probably made some sense. Theoni guessed all her portions would be downgraded some in this world. She decided to not be a choosy beggar on this occasion, it was important to maintain her innocent image and bend these paupers to her whims. Strangely besides the pleasant expression and offer of tea, Ms. Magpie did not appear to be succumbing just yet. Commendable resilience, perhaps all the swamp mud was hampering her sweet aura?

    Theoni did not think about it too long, the offer of honey an immediate distraction.

    "Thanks Maggy!" replied the girl as she eagerly took a heaped spoon and dropped it into the blend of herbs and water. She watched for a moment as the lump simply fell to the bottom and sat there, then shrugged before lifting the bowl up to her lips and taking a loud slurp of the tea. She was not a tea drinker. She preferred her drinks cold and carbonated. But this world was something so why not try it? Without thinking about the delicate manners shown by the other participants at the impromptu tea party, Theoni gulped down most of her drink before the virtual senses caught up to her.

    "Awh!" spluttered the Faerin mid-drink, liquid falling from the bowl as she pushed it away and started to gasp loudly. It was scolding hot. "Mwy twunge! Awh, hwot! Fwick!"

    How long had this kettle been sitting on the fire?! Were warm beverages meant to burn your mouth like this? She had ignored the remark from the wolfman about his drink being sufficiently cooled, and not paid much mind to the heat coming from the bowl when she had picked it up. Now Theoni kept her mouth open, discarding the bowl carelessly onto the ground as she stuck out her tongue out in an attempt to cool it on the night air.

    "Twis swucks!" whined the girl, oblivious to the growling going on outside the circle of individuals around the fire. Perhaps her wails were loud enough to limit the other's knowledge too. It was certainly not stopping any time soon as the small Faerin continued to talk despite keeping her tongue stuck out. She glanced at Ms. Magpie accusingly. "Why'd wu dwo twis two mwe?!"
     
  12. It was hard to tell what exactly made the small girl have such a strong dislike for Varudan. Reckoning that it was neither his nudity nor his impeccable attitude, it could only boil down to two likely cases. One: the girl really didn't like people with dog-like features, and two: she was a misandrist. Due to the fact that the only real 'dog' features were a tail and ears (and minor things like claws and fangs), he could only assume that this little girl was the latter. It wasn't too surprising, as many social shut-ins and other typical game dwellers often had issues interacting with the opposite sex. Now that he reasoned it out, all he could really do now was to avoid her.

    A moment later his mind snapped back at him, 'Why should I avoid her when she intruded here the first place?' In his displeasure, it seemed his mind had forgotten how he had initially came to be drinking tea with the lower body inclined woman. His attention returning to the immediate scene upon the thought of Ms. Magpie, Varudan was greeted by a hot, barbicide colored spray of tea making contact with his face and arm. His seemingly eternal heavy lidded eyes snapped fully open, the left one twitching as his smile froze on his face.

    The tea was hot. Quite hot. Scalding, in a word. There wasn't even that much that the short girl spewed back out, but it was enough to nearly cast off his perennial chill. The girl's grating griping resounded in his ears, causing him to seriously consider jumping back into the pond. It was almost loud enough to drown out the growl emanating from the forest. He would've missed it too, if it weren't for the fact that the girl's tone was so high pitched in comparison to the guttural noise. Additionally, there was something particular about the noise, something both unsettling and familiar.

    Sudden cracking of branches and brush drew his attention to the same direction the girl had came from. From within the trees, emerged a familiar figure. With a new coat of red paint and some fresh strips of beginner cloth fragments hanging about its antlers, the dire stag emerged. Watching the steam gust out from its tremendous frame in this not particularly chilly weather was unsettling, and that was without thinking of the sheer amount of stamina the thing must have to be constantly enraged as it was.

    Flicking his hand to his head to turn on the investigative mode, Varudan didn't really consider how stupid it must look. As to what he actually observed, he identified that it was indeed still the same threat level as before, and with a glance that the girls name was Theoni Vex. His sharpened eyesight could still spot places on the beast where the slime had eaten away at its dense fur and antlers. Other minor gashes and wounds could be seen on the creature, but they seemed to hinder it no more than the scraps of cloth adorning its antlers. Unsure if the whining little wench and the leg master were paying attention, he whistled sharply. Holding the mug of likely still boiling tea in a particularly weapon-like fashion, he stood up facing the deer.

    "The dire stag seems to have found us again," he said simply, "I suggest running to the nearest tree... I don't know if the pond is deep enough to hide in."

    The deer seemed to remember him, as it had locked its eyes on his familiarly bare, pale chest the moment he stood up. Varudan began to side-step cautiously and quietly towards the edge of the clearing, with the deer tracking his movement. Without much real warning, the hart charged him. Clumps of grass and dirt flew from beneath its hooves with its sudden blitz. Carrying a seemingly preternatural calm, Varudan watched as it bulled towards him. Not eager to have a repeat of what happened before, he decided to try something else this time. Upon the deer nearly reaching him Varudan forcefully flicked the mug of tea towards the deer, sending out its contents towards its face a moment before acrobatically diving out of the way. Not stopping to see if it had any effect, Varudan dashed as fast as possible to where the beast had initially emerged.
     
  13. Over time, her sips had become progressively smaller. Having slowly crept through her limbs, out from her core--the sensations finally snuck their mary way into her head. Left in a haze, she felt a growing distance between her teatime guests and her quasi-physical self. She was only aimlessly adrift for a remarkably short amount of time before she felt herself being snapped back into her present company. Her brew wasn’t potent enough to kill off all of her senses, nor did it really cloud her judgement.

    Reflexively, she uttered a bland, “You are very welcome.” to the faerin’s eager thanks. She hoped that that would be the last of the interruptions. It was already unlikely that one person would stumble upon her tea time, the fact that there was a second was already pushing the limits of her willing suspension of disbelief. Perhaps this was a scripted event; if one has tea in Brisshal, maybe they were generated company. However, given how informal of an introduction Theoni had greeted her with, she was convinced that she had to be a player.

    Her virtual metaphysical crisis was abruptly stopped once she realized something had been said that should not let go, not so easily. Regret seeped its way into Ms. Magpie’s inebriated psyche, long before any escalation actual got off the ground. Through the warm, therapeutic cloud forming in her mind, she heard the crashing echo of “Maggie”. Catching herself, she tried to fight against her placated state of mind, "You will not.” She interjected, lingering for a moment without so much as an ounce of context until, “You may not call me Maggie.”

    She was already out of it. Continued sips slipped her further and further into pleasant tranquility. Everyone had their the tea, and clearly, at least one of them was waiting on it to cool. She could understand that, hot drinks weren’t for everyone. Before she could do so much as offer a word of suggestion for the lively youth, Ms. Magpie felt that bit a mist had hit her face… some time ago, in fact. What followed, was the second worst thing that could possibly happen. Feeling like she was adrift beneath the surface of a bizarre misty ocean, Ms. Magpie locked her glassy eyes into fierce eye contact with the disgruntled gnome.

    Clearly, her tea had hurt the child. In response, Ms. Magpie offered a shrug, “I’ve done nothing.”
    Was about all she had to say. Theoni's greed had been her undoing. It had been a loud enough undoing that a certain witch was left oblivious to what was lurking around the rounded corners of the trees. Even when her expression was at its most placid, Ms. Magpie’s usual callousness crept to the surface, “Consider it a lesson, child: You must be mindful of what you intend to drink.” Which probably did not help her case of the scalding being unintentional.

    “Here…” She called for pause. Still under the influence of the more obscure herbs of her tea, she opened her alchemist's satchel. As if she hadn’t been distracted enough, she was intensely searching her bag for, “I’ve some left over herbs somewhere. Chewing on them should offer some relief. A word of warning, however; it is quite bitter. Do try not to spit it out.” She fiercely added.

    This stachel of hers had become a labyrinth. She had had enough time with her special blend that some of the later effects were starting to take hold. Every time her fingers every so lightly struck one of her many vials, it became a bell. Vibrations rattled into her bones, and the sounds of the chiming of glass. Over the chimes were other, less delicate sounds. She had assumed that the child could not have gotten into trouble again so quickly. Pausing her search, peered through the white noise.

    “...dire stag...running...tree...”

    Had Varudan taken it upon himself to try and soothe the child by telling her the story of their first encounter? Lifting her head up, she presented--possibly nobody-- with the limp blue herb. It was in that moment, where her eyes scanned the pond once more that she caught something that hadn’t been there before. Thinking back on what had been said while she searched for a placebo, she retroactively pieced together a warning,“Oh. It is... isn’t it?” She rather calmly stated, “Well...”
     
  14. This had to be an intended attack on her person, Ms Magpie going out of her way to make an enemy this day. Of course Theoni would remember this, even if her virtual form was not scarred by the burns inflicted by this witch. It was a slight so surprising because it had been presented as a kind deed. A warm beverage which turned out to be a heat trap. Though not being in much of a position to enact any revenge, tongue still stuck in the air to cool and completely unarmed, the short Faerin did narrow her eyes and look angry.

    As if she would heed the demand of the witch after this affront. As the brown eyes of the girl glared at the tall Yladian, the name 'Maggie' was firmly etched into her mind. Suddenly Theoni was possessed by a magnificent idea. She would ensure this hated name was all the other lady would go by for her days to come. At every opportunity presented, the Faerin would tie the nickname to Magpie until it stuck with every ally, enemy and civilian alike. A naming brand to counter the scolding heat in her mouth.

    "Mindful of who's serving."
    retorted Theoni, managing her tongue better now the night air had eased the initial burning sensation. She had not even been able to enjoy the sweet taste of honey before the hot brew had assaulted her! There were umpteen number of ways she could disparage Maggie as a tea maker, but the witch appeared to be offering her a quick remedy which made the Faerin hold her burned tongue. She watched curiously as the herbalist went through her bag of concoctions, right until the dog man drew her attention to something else.

    The short girl glanced over her shoulder in the direction the Caenis was facing. A large shadow waited just beyond the light of the fire, whatever it was making the Faerin feel even smaller that she already did in the presence of normal sized people. From what she presumed was the head of the creature were large branch like antlers, the horns causing the girl to guess it was some demonic beast. Though chilling, that was also quite cool to Theoni, her eyes sparkling a moment in awe of the creature before it started charging their way.

    "Uh..." A surprising lack of words. Theoni was in the process of being inspired by the form of the creature as it charged into the gathering, the limited knowledge of the mind behind presuming it was a completely imaginary mythical beast, whilst simultaneously remembering she was unarmed and fodder for a rampaging monster. Fortunately it appeared she was not the target of this monstrosity, that pleasure belonged to the mutt. It seemed even the animals of this land could correctly identify his kind as the worst beings in existence. Still Theoni scrambled to get out of the path of the beast just in case, pausing for only a second to snatch the offered herbs from Maggie's hand. The strange tea making lady was hardly reacting to a sudden rampaging beast, which made Theoni somewhat curious as to just what was in the tea she had spat out before.

    "Looks like you got this, dog guy!" Theoni shouted to the Caenis as she made her swift retreat to the furthest point of the space around the fire from the man and the stag. With her mouth still hurting from the heat of the tea, she decided to place the mix of herbs in her gob and start chewing. True to warning, it was an extremely bitter mix which caused the girl to wince, even whine a little as the grinding of her teeth unleashed an unpleasant flavour from the leaves. She had replaced heat pain with a sickening taste - the witch had tricked her again.

    Unable to speak her displeasure with a mouthful of the gunk, the Faerin stamped her feet in annoyance, though her petty struggle seemed irrelevant compared to the danger of the stag creature attacking the group. Her greatest weapon at this moment was running, something that did not have much use for subduing a rampaging creature. It had been momentarily blinded due to the dog man's quick thinking with his mug, the witch's brew proving useful for something. Catching on that this was an opportunity to get away, Theoni recalled the forest she has passed on the way to fire and dashed away towards them. She had no idea if the monster would even care to chase after her. It seemed to have a weird fascination with the other two for some reason. If it did pursue, then perhaps she could lose it in the trees. Relative to her it huge, perhaps she could use their size difference to find a path it would not be able to follow.

    ((Removed night references, had wrong time of day))
     
    Last edited: May 4, 2018
  15. The thrill that Varudan had felt the previous session had returned again, though slightly dulled since it was simply the same stag minus a slime. There was still very little he could do without proper gear, but it was frustrating all the same having to run away constantly. Speaking of running, as he neared the tree line Varudan's ears picked up the clomping of oh-so familiar hooves approaching rapidly. Likely unable to calculate the odds of making it to the trees before being a new coat of blood on its antlers, he agilely snapped to the right. For a brief moment he began to dart away on his new trajectory, before being suddenly pulled forward.

    The stag had managed to catch his left arm with just the tip of its right antler. Yanked off balance, Varudan tumbled forward into the tree canopy and underlying ferns. Cushioned somewhat, he was able to stagger to his feet fairly quickly. Not keen on looking back, he stumbled his way to the nearest tree once again. As he began to climb, acute pain signals came from where his arm was caught by the barbed antlers. Ignoring the pain with gritted teeth, he climbed as quickly as he could manage. Not worried about the stag currently, he somewhat calmly inspected the wound.

    The stag's antlers were surprisingly brutal, though perhaps not so surprising given the gory evidence that seemed so ever present on them. His tricep had been torn open, and was producing a rather disheartening amount of blood. Unfortunately, he had lost all of his beginner's clothes through his initial journey. Briefly glancing down to his remaining dignity-protecting briefs, he mused for a moment. The briefs were fairly long, made of a pitch black unidentified cloth. It was suitable enough, he thought as he began to carefully tear a few inches off the lower portion of one leg. The fabric, while durable, seemed to tear easily enough through the use of his claws. Favoring the tourniquet over the bandage given the size of the wound, Varudan reasoned that once the stag moved on to terrorize another group he could find more suitable medical supplies.

    As medically cared for as he could currently be, he turned his attention back to the clearing. While not particularly attached to anything within, he had some vague sentimental value attached to a certain pair of legs.