Knowledge is Power

#letters = asks

#quest givers = anon

#music box = music

#arcane echo = ooc

#hearthstone = WoW

#vellum = threads

#polymorph = non-serious RP

#glyphs = photos

#mirror image = depictions of Anestra

#inscriptions = writing/art done by the mun

#slipstream = interactions outside of Azeroth/Draenor

#vantus rune = about Anestra

#entries = musings

#adventurer’s board = ask memes

#order hall = OOC information

#patch notes = blog updates (new pages, new info, etc)

Ren was even more confused now than he had been before. Nothing she was saying was making any sense to him at all. And then, as if that wasn’t weird enough, she patted her pockets and many drinks hit the pavement instead of just the one, causing him to startle. “How did you fit so many in your pockets?” He asked, genuinely wanting to know but also slightly alarmed by the sheer volume of them.

“Oh! Sometimes things I forget were in my pockets the entire time!” As if it easily explained the fallen caffeinated soldiers at their feet, but it didn’t explain who they belonged to. “And, um, I think I have the orders in one of these pockets? I... I just don’t know which one.” She pats around at her pockets with a free hand, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “...uh... nope, not this one.” She shoves it back into her pocket to pull out a different one. “Already did that... but I can’t just throw it down, that’s littering!”

   He looks on, leaning a bit more on his cane patiently as the fellow eccentric solves the mystery in her head. It startled him a bit in his intense focus as it was broken by the outburst of the culminated thoughts that strung invisible strings to one another. He was stunned to silence aside from a short yelp.

   “Me?” he utters, thoroughly entertained. Like a locked room mystery, with with the unspoken rule - a single passage or secret space allowed. The seemingly innocent was in truth the culprit, and he stood before the one searching for the unnatural. This urely an unexpected revelation considering the preconceptions of a vampire. Well, what could Auguste do? He never asked for a short stature and overall intimidating appearance. Though he hid his fangs behind his hand, they, too were quite unremarkable compared to the recent tales of monsters with terrifying fangs. With more points to spare, this fanatic of the undead would find him wholly disappointing.    “An…interesting deduction. How-however, I…could barely pass as a v-vampire in the eyes of great expectation. I do not attack anyone for zh-the blood, nor am I capable of tr-transforming into a bat…”    Still artfully dancing around a confession, he laughs dryly. He straightens up, a confident poise despite feeling a bit…trapped in this filthy close.    “I vould not really be zhe cackling un-undead fiend you vished to find, right?”

“Ah! Of course it’s you, I should have known!” She gestures a bit more wildly now. “Your hair... it’s impeccable!” Absolutely so! No one who was human took pride in their hair like the longer lived folks!

Anestra pauses.

My guild has started back up doing roleplaying and in-game roleplaying events, and also I recently got a job that I didn’t have when I started this account.

Ren watches her carefully. She’s definitely a strange one, though in some ways her behaviour reminds him a little of Nora’s, which is probably why he’s still around and talking to her instead of leaving. Well, that and also because leaving in the midst of a conversation without properly closing it off would be exceptionally rude, in his eyes. “No, it’s not my drink.” He says. “You pulled it out of nowhere, how could it be mine?” And he’s not about to drink it, either. He doesn’t know what it is, and that alone is enough to make him want to refuse the drink.

Ren looks warily at the stranger. She seems nice enough, but the fact that she’s talking so casually with him despite the fact that he doesn’t know her is something that puts him off greatly. Still, he tries to offer her a smile. “I’m sorry, do I know you? That just seems like a bold offer to make to someone you don’t really know.”

She takes this in stride, taking sometime to think about it. Though her eyes dart around, finally looking up as she thinks, she sighs. Her gaze seems blank, as if her mind is going around in circles over and over rather than break free from the rut. The dark bags underneath don’t really help her case either.

RWBY AU time!

NAME: Ancestra "Anise" Alexandrite

ACADEMY: Beacon (graduated)

TEAM: Disbanded.

CURRENT JOB: Librarian-in-training/intern.

SEMBLANCE: ???

THINGS TO KNOW: People tend to get her name wrong... a lot. Nothing seems to make her name stick! She's worn a name tag, had it sewn onto her clothes, nothing. It frustrates her endlessly, and she has tried to make people remember her, but they seem to look over her. The only person who seems to know she’s there at all is her twin brother.

At her job as a librarian-in-training/intern, she has to wear a bell, since she has, more often than not, been left behind and locked in the library at night, and has startled a lot of people.

   “Nein…” He states simply, truthfully. Though he was unsure of what the other’s assumption of ‘vampiric activities’ entirely entailed. It could be as uncomplicated as the EXISTENCE of a vampire for all he knew. Brandishing that book and pen, this elf appeared to have become a bit more serious in her small investigation. It comes to some amusement, as well as the tossup of either plain disbelief of ignorant abstruse.

   “I a-am not a liar. Up until zhis point I have conveyed no lies. I-I believed you to be one of zhose…aggressive svwindlers — mistaken me for one of vw-wealth, an-and had hidden. So I cannot attest to activity of zhis place for…for as much as T-THIRTY MINUTES, only the short period of time i-in which I ran to here, in vhich I was the only one in zhis close.” he would quietly lay out for deduction, a conundrum he wondered how the elf would riddle it over. His eyes shift frenziedly, his own wonders filling his mind, but respectful in this interrogation.

...’nine’? Is this... code? Is he speaking to her in code? Oh, dang it Anestra, why didn’t you take the code cracking class! Well, there was always later to take it... no, no, don’t let your mind wander. Think.

She shifts on her feet. True, he had said no lies... but it didn’t automatically mean he wasn’t hiding something. He just artfully walked around the question rather than avoiding it— just like an elf would do. He chose his words with care, something she couldn’t help but envy. Sure, on paper she was good at it, but verbally she was just awful at it. Clearly, he was used to doing it. But the question isn’t why he is so good at it, but rather, what kind of work is he in to lend himself to this skill?

Anestra begins to tap her fingers on her notebook in a steady rhythm. A professor? No... being a teacher, it involved being open, being familiar. This guy, was more like... he knew everyone else’s actions before they did them. Though, that was something long lived races could do, like... elves, Titans, dragons... or even... vampires.

  “A fanatic, t-t-then.” He plainly says. Well, if this was all it was, it would be no problem to entertain the stranger at the very least. However, he would not so easily divulge information so willingly and blatantly.  Though even with the lack of definitive answers to the ‘closed room’ conundrum of the close this alley was - the other was so caught up in their wonders it clouded their observation and rationality.

   “Um, there is no need to worry,”  he begins, “Your strong appreciation for zhe supernatural is admirable. I apologize if I cannot bring myself to be of any aid t-to t-the STRANGER in zhe research of such enigmas…But I admit, I…too am interested in zhe subject - if vampiric activities had happened in my sight, I vould not turn a blind eye.”     He gives a challenging smirk, both hands patiently rest atop the eccentric skull handle of his cane.

Fanatic? Well, that’s a first... she prefers the term “enthusiast”. But something... something is amiss. Her magical senses are squeezing on her temples, though what their message is, she can’t say. Anestra has always prided herself on reading people and picking up on small things about them before she can even consciously realize it. Something she knows now is that this stranger is hiding something. Obvious, yes, but making her home in Quel’thalas usually meant that everyone was hiding something. Elves loved their secrets more than they loved magic... especially the blood elves. 

His stammering and his nervous energy is at odds with the smirk upon his lips now. Well, he could just have a speech impediment, she was no stranger to stammering herself, but... hm. What was he doing in that small space in the alley if he was not shoved by the vampire? Any enthusiast worth their salt wouldn’t let themselves get pushed around! The gears are spinning in her head, but they’ll need time... she should stall.

   “Just an elf, t-then…”    Honestly, Auguste was entertaining the absurd claims of the so-called elf. He could not thoroughly deny the other’s identity, considering himself as well as believing the existence of ‘mythical’ creatures. He’s never heard a creature of this sort having ‘glowing eyes’, though perhaps it explains the eccentric stranger’s use of the eyewear (despite its…ineffective design ).

   “A-ah, now hold on a moment-”    None could be as obvious as this one as she painted a clear picture of what she expected : fanged monsters with little regard for morals. Auguste was in the least offended, fiction’s portrayal has been rather scathing. Gathering his thoughts from this observation, he comes to realize…. ‘ Does this person not know I’m that object of concern? ’    “I’ve never claimed to have seen a vampire, a-and zhere’s no way I vould be able to identify so much of t-these activities from one. V-what’s the fascination? Are you…h-hunting such creatures?”

“Hunting? No, I could never kill such majestic creatures!” A bit of an odd choice of words for an undead being, but Anestra was sincere about it. She has far more experience with them than the living, after all... mostly ghosts and the Forsaken.

“Ah yes… googles,” the semantics of her eyewear really seemed to be the least of their purported problems, if her panic were to be believed; and what was she muttering about ‘scribe training’? He doubted that she was referring to something as mundane as copying out documents, given that everything else about her was so unusual. Still, he decided now was not the time to quiz her on such things.

Instead, he continued to be led on what seemed to be a chaotic merry dance by the strange woman while the ordinary folk of London watched on in utter disbelief. All he could hope is that this little escapade wouldn’t make its way into the evening papers…

“What exactly is this 'bad omen’ that you speak of and where on earth are we going? This mindless running around hardly seems practical!”

It was vexing to be dealing with a foe he couldn’t see and a threat that he had so little information about –– assassins and blackguards he could handle, even when they tried to hide, but unknown spectres that require magical glasses to see? That was something he had no experience in nor idea how he might handle .

“Do you at least have some form of plan in mind to deal with them?”

The question gives her pause, and she stops in her tracks, the bigger man seemingly bouncing off her due to the inertia, though she hardly sways, as if she’s a steel pillar.

“...that’s a good question! I’m no ghost-buster or wrangler, I just like to talk to them, they can be quite chatty if you gain their trust...” Making her home in the Ghostlands meant she had more ghosts for neighbors than the living. “...but in this city, there’s so much blood...” She looks down to her feet, where she can see the blood from the apparition starting to pool around her boots. “Why is that? Why is something so... gory following you around? I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen a lot!” And she means it, Azeroth is not a planet where ‘nothing’ happens, it seems like every two years there’s a new problem facing them.

There was one thing that could explain it... it wasn’t something that she wanted to ask, but....

Oh shit! Oh gods, oh Light! He noticed! Quick, time for a diversion!

"Well, for one, Al, you're not shadowy in the slightest. No one calls you that except for you!" Maybe he could be, if he didn't have such a fussy, grumpy grey cat that liked to scream his head off when he was slightly inconvenienced... which was all the time.