Corruption || Closed
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@desolateruiner
Corruption || Closed
   Inscribed on a small note crumbled up in a dumpster:
Stone
Book
Pond
Funland

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Exile || Open
   Standing before Serenity Apartments, a hooded figure waits by the door. He carries a bag over his shoulder and holds a picture in one hand.
   Slowly shaking his head, the figure departs from his position in front of the apartment complex. As he leaves, a faded picture falls from his hand.
   In the picture is a young child smiling. On the back a message is written. Barely legible, the only word that can be made out is grandpa.
Revival || Open
Felicity watches with concern as the stranger coughs. Sheâs been in that position and sheâs seen others be in that position - but in this place, at this time⌠this manâs very life seems to be in danger! His words distress her: why does he have no place? Where has he come from? What has been done to him?
But when he begins to tremble and and speaks those words, her eyes widen in shock and anger. Thereâs only one group in Altelia that has such evil intentions that they would harm such an old man like this! Make an innocent so afraid! She rushes forward, stopping close to the old man. At this point she would usually reach out to touch his arm but⌠some intuition tells her it would be better to leave him alone.
âOne of those magical creatures?â she spits, outraged. âMe! No! Never!â She shakes her head in righteous fury. How dare they do this! Blackmail an old man?! âThey are the ones who have no place in Altelia! What group did this to you? Elves, dwarves, earthmates?!â
  As though the air from his very lungs had vanished, the figure stepped away and gasped for air.
  Holding a fragile hand out, the figure pitifully pleaded, âNoo....p-pl-please..d-donât-â He backs away further as his voice gives out.
  In a quiet voice he spoke once more before turning away, âIt....itâs not safe here...they...are everywhere....I shouldnât say anymore...youâlluu...youâll be in danger...â
  Despite only the dark figure of his cloak in view, the trembling of the figure was prominent. âYou...have been kind,...and I...I am...perhaps past my time...â
  A small object covered in cloth drops to the ground as the figure disperses into the darkness. The figureâs fading voice relays once last message: âThis...will protect you....from them.â
[Inside the cloth was a palm-sized stone. The stone was a dull blue and was not completely smooth. When in possession, all magic cast at you will be nullified. The monetary value at current state would be less than 300G.]
Revival || Open
Scarletâs eyes went wide as the harsh coughing continued, panic finding the small girl easily. No longer was she scared of the figure, but instead for him. If he couldnât afford to go to the clinic, how was he supposed to get better again? Maybe he had a wife at home and sheâd make him soup, so at least heâd feel better!
Oh⌠but what if he didnât have a wife? What was he supposed to do then? Candy made her feel better, sometimes⌠maybe she could share some of hers? He didnât want her to come closer, she oughtâŚ
âC-Can I give you something, mister? I-I think itâll help!!!â
   The figure attempts to stand up from his leaning position. Tugging his hood over him further, he turns to face the small girl who stood before him.
   Sputtering out a rough warning, âM-miss, th....there are dangerous peop---beings...it would be better for....y-you to take more care. Being seen...with a per--stain as myself....â
   Shakily clutching the cloth of his hood, he continued, âYou sho-uuld return...ahh-â The figure struggles to hold back coughing.
   âH-home..â the figure concludes as he begins stepping backwards further into the darkness as if fading away.
Revival || Open
So much was happening, the stranger had fallen and, while the man still frightened her, her chest swelled with fear for him. For a moment it seemed like he was trying to stop like she had told him to, which was was great. Anyone would be smart to listen to her, after all, but⌠a sickness? People could die when they were sick, was he going to die? Oh no, no no, that wasnât good.
âI-If youâre sick⌠y-you donât have to stop!â She gave a nod, trying to act big and authoritative about it. Her attempts almost made it seem like she had decided she was the more mature one there, telling the cloaked man to eat his veggies or such⌠of course, this fell flat against her immature appearance and ways of speech. âYou have my direct permission and no one can tell you otherwise!â
She eyed his bandages with worry⌠oh, she couldnât do anything about it. Mama had never taught her how to make any real potions and the brews she had learned on her own⌠erâŚ
Not meant for helping. She took a few small steps from her hiding space, out towards him. âM-Maybe you should go to the clinic? I⌠I can show you where it is, maybe?â
  Slowly lowering the hand over his mouth, the figure gives a small thank you before coughing once more.
  The figure stood stood in place as the other ventured closer. Shaking his head carefully, the figure spoke once more.
  âYour kindness is appreciated...but alas....I lack the gold for a visit...â and before the figure can say anymore, he clings to the wall as he begins another series of harsh hacking.

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Revival || Open
Felicity has a habit of walks at night. Not her best habit, but not her worst. She is after all, human and with an imperfect soul. Arenât they all, here on this earth? She pulls her cloak around her as she strolls in the dark, only the reflection of the sunâs light upon the moon to guide her way. Her illness makes her restless. She does not know why or what exactly sheâs looking for.
She tilts her head to look at the sky. The moon falls beneath a passing dark grey cloud and all is cast in shadow. It is then that she notices him. An old man, hooded, seemingly⌠ill, in some way. Or injured. She can only see a long beard as any identifying feature.
He begins to cough. And oh, Felicity feels sympathy. Sheâs coughed like that before many times in her own illness. She knows what itâs like to be ill and wandering the streets at night, in search of something. With caution, but sincere sympathy, she approaches.
âAre you unwell?â she asks. âIf you are, we have something in common in that regard. My name is Felicity. Why are you wandering alone at night? Donât you know itâs dangerous, with all these magical attacks going on?â
  Turning just his head slightly towards the woman, âAhh...yess...â, his voice reaches out weakly.Â
  The figure wheezed as he beat his chest slowly with his fist. Roughly pushing out a response, âPl-lease excu...se me...M-miss..Feli-licity...there is...no pla...ace for...me to...â Harsh coughing interrupts his speech.
  Between breathes for air and fits of coughing, the figure continued, âto...stay..â
  Sensing the tone in her last words, the figure began visibly trembling. âIf...I stay sile...nt....the-they...pr-pr-pr-prom...ised...â he stops, dropping his remaining words and head.
  In almost a whisper he asks, âY-you...y-youâre....not one...are y-you..?â His voice shakes and his tone carries great fear.
Revival || Open
Scarlet stared at the strange figure, quite intimidated by how little she could make out. Mama used to hide her features in a similar way, sometimes⌠but that was only when they were caught with their snake oils and false charms. When they were in trouble.
No, she didnât like the stranger at all. She did her best to stay hidden, a task not aided by her hair and eyes, and considered just heading back to the orphanage. His breathing was so heavy and⌠was he okay? The small girl found herself conflicted, starting to take a small retreating step and instead found herself jumping in response to his coughing. Finally, after a long silence, she spoke up, still hugging what she had attempted to hide behind.
âS-Stop that!â This came out as a demand, the witch pouting out at him. âIf⌠if youâre okay, I mean! Stop that if youâre okay!â
  In the moment of silence, the figure collapsed onto his knees.
  Taking a moment to breath, the coughing ceases.
  With a clear of his throat, âI...do...apol..ogize...â Beginning another coughing fit, the figureâs voice stops.Â
  âT-this sick...ness....makes it dif-f-f----ficult....to st-st-op...â his words stammer as he holds in another cough.
  Holding a bandaged hand over his mouth to muffle the volume of his coughing, the figure stares downward as if asking pardon for the trouble.
Revival || Open
A dark figure limps through the alleyways of Altelia City.
Stumbling with only the support of the crumbling brick wall lining the stomach of the alley.
Hearing the footsteps of another, a smile creeps across the figureâs face.
Each advancing step brings closer the sound of the figureâs labored breathing.
Somber stillness is interrupted by sudden violent coughing from the now halted figure.