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CYCLE 120Current time: Apr 05 2025, 09:01 AM


i am prozac-dependant, i attack when defenseless IN Main Area
SO WHAT IF SOMETHING
IS GNAWING AT MY SOUL?
Offline
Inactive
273 POSTS ʡ 1130
Female 96046 Cycles
Valkhand viv

#11
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 81%
RESTORED TO 100%



Canis and Orion and teeth flashed before her eyes, and Aethril found herself focusing on prayers. Brainwashed-- sheep led astray by wolves? While she was juggling the moral quandary of where the line between innocence and guilt lay, something else caught her attention.

Warmth. Hope. It'd been so long since Aethril had felt anything of the sort herself-- not for thousands of years since she walked under infinite skies and warm suns. There was no longer even an ounce of sympathy left for them. Raw contempt took over her heart-- jealousy and anger roared through her veins and flexed into her fingers.

"Kill them," she ordered the oil-slick creature in a tone that was far too smooth. "Leave nothing of them left."


@Game Master Navy






 
 
 
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Game Master
#12
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%


The Hand's command rang through the valkhound, clear as the single note of a bell or a windchime and the slobbering, loathsome beast was off. Its thundering footsteps quieted only through distance, but the resultant cry of alarm... ? Panicked sobs intermixed with the splintering of wood and the shattering of pottery? Louder than any other sound. Perhaps more pleasant, too. Music to a Hand's ears, even.

Then, the valkhound came tottering back, chunks of flesh still caught between its teeth. A tattered tongue swept out to lick at its can-sized teeth, lapping up more Oil and saliva than the remains of what it'd just slaughtered. Its black eyes glinted vehement chartreuse as it turned to seek out more (such was the nature of Chaos). Oily wisps broke from its form, and it gave off a startled growl before just... winking out of existence.

From the motes of darkness came Emuh, looming in all his owl-beast glory. The glow of his eyes was set into a narrow squint as he glowered downward. A low scoff ruffled the feathers of his throat, though that was hardly visible, slick-black as his feathers were. Leave it to a Hand to completely trounce his test, exercise the most dexterity over magical influence of any other creature in these caves—perhaps even the Masters themselves.

He waved a dismissive wing with a derisive sneer. "THERE'S NO USE IN GIVING YOU ANYTHING." A shrill cackle. "NONETHELESS. EMUH SHALL TAKE AND YOU-HOO SHALL RECEIVE WHAT YOU-HOO-HOO HAVE EARNED." Just as with any other test he'd ever conducted and would conduct. He did not discriminate—merely criticized and boldly passed judgmental stares toward the Hands.

A rattle of feathery quills, and the cavern shifted, groaning the same as Aethril's stomach would—twisting inside and out through the strain of magic's pulling. Oh, and for all her power, there was so much to lose in the way of expanding one's horizons... fruitless and pointless as it may seem, with a Hand's repertoire of skills. At least, with time, she might find this particular strain of Chaotic magic to be much more... malleable. Tamable. Conquerable.

When the saran wrap haze over the Hand's vision faded at last, she was met with the same dark corridor of before, and not even a feather of Emuh's presence remaining.

A moment later, and a snarling, hissing valkhound sputtered back onto the physical plane. It fell to the ground like a calf from its mother's loins, and immediately set to righting itself upon wobbly legs. Glimmering eyes burned holes through Aethril, as if it'd already forgotten her capability of commanding it, but it turned to flee into Polaris at large.

Aethril has Transcended. She is now a Transcendent Pupil, and may work her way back up to Transcendent Master. Upon attaining this rank, her player may post in Update Me to choose a Specialization (viewable in the Magic section of the Guidebook).

She has also learned the spell:

Font of Corruption:

Transcendent Intensity Manipulation. Impart a portion of the user's magic to convert an object or small body of water into black Oilstone or Oil as a true source of Corruption. This Font will corrupt anything nearby over time, granting Corruption Points and providing a place for corrupted Gembound to stabilize.

The valkhound, should Aethril choose to take it with her, is nearly completely feral, violent, and ever-hungry. It harbors hardly any desire to obey except by the command of a Master or a Hand; and, it has barely any magical inclinations—though it will be known to vanish into the Void on occasion. This is merely a consequence of its Corruption, which will need to be stabilized at least once every two weeks. If it is not stabilized, it will begin to decompose and die within two weeks. (Stabilization can be established and done off-screen, of course!)


@Aethril

 
 
SO WHAT IF SOMETHING
IS GNAWING AT MY SOUL?
Offline
Inactive
273 POSTS ʡ 1130
Female 96046 Cycles
Valkhand viv

#13
 
MAGICKA LEVEL 100%
RESTORED TO 100%



Aethril licked her teeth. It was pleasant. It was cathartic-- a relief twisting and settling into her aching joints. It was satisfying in the way that she felt like she could finally relax after a long day.

Emuh caught her attention while she was still... admiring. "How very fair of you," she sneered, a little colder than she would have liked. It was difficult to find that playful, teasing tone she kept with Isra when Isra was on the other side of the Nest. "Come by to Cepheus sometime, will you?"

This question was mostly forgotten by the sense of queasiness overcoming her gut. Her eyes squeezed shut and just as she was prepared to vomit, it stopped-- and with the thud of the Valkhound returning from the Void, her eyes opened again.

She paused.

"You!" She called, the bridge of her nose wrinkled. The oily creature skidded to a stop, turning its head but largely looking through her still, mouth dripping with a mix of... fluids. "Come with me."

It grimaced, as though its limbs were being twisted out of place, but as Aethril began to pad out of the cave, lifting her bag as she walked through Polaris, the creature followed with a lingering, near-constant growl, acidic eyes on the lookout for its next hunt.


exit






 
 



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