Death is the Great Equalizer

A stack of crude earthen jugs, with strange, leering faces carved into the sides.  

She’s not really sure what to make of this. Was this a joke? Did Dlanor want to explain how these were important, or was she expecting an explanation from Beatrice herself on what they were. If she wanted an explanation, why not go to the archives?

—Could it be, in fact, that she now holds in her arms not only the most recently neglected papers, but an entire backlog…? 

No matter the case, it is indeed a pleasure to have the company of her old friend once more. A gentle nod of her head ushers them onwards, and with that, she starts towards the centre of the gardens. “They had been merciful, at least, by wanting to preserving the gameboard… Still, someone must take care of it. Things truthfully seem to take care of themselves, mostly – but I suppose it’s quite usual for us older women to take up gardening and such in our retirement, regardless.” 

Her smile softens then. Although there remains a peacefulness to it, as ever there is, it takes on a certain wistfulness now. The last time they were both here, something little less than a law was raging, yes: needless to say that there’s a world of difference between then and now. Prior to that, they had - of course - had their quiet days, when Beatrice fancied simply sitting under the arbour rather more than playing her games – and yet, even such days were eventful compared to the present. 

Perhaps even that bit less lonely, too.

Curious, curious. Maybe it was just specifically for older women? It didn't stop the child from imagining a certain former inquisitor wearing a sunhat and going around watering flowers with a spritely-colored waterpail. While it makes her chuckle, placing herself in the same position also seemed theoretically awkward. "It seems I have a lot to learn before seeking retirement MYSELF..."

Now wasn't that an idea? Retirement. Certainly there were days where she physically felt the burden of bureaucracy, but the specific longing to be permanently relieved of it was... strangely absent when it was really thought upon. Did that mean she truly wanted to be in this profession for as long as she'd been assigned to it? "It certainly is SILENT. I was surprised to arrive here without much of a GREETING."

It was a silence, however, that filled the halls of the court district buildings and her own office— serene in all but the murmuring flits of paper from one stack to another, or to join a folder tucked away in a file of drawers. Something dreadfully normal for her, but not for the people in this fragment, or even the people in it. "I'm sure Lady Beatrice will stir something up EVENTUALLY."

“Though she is a hunter of witches, she is a dear friend of mine. She’s still just a kid, always taking sugar in her tea, but she takes the position she was given very well.”

She paused for a moment, glancing over the home she now shared.

“…I owe her much. She helped us to find a happy ending. If I am able to help her in any way, I gladly will. Perhaps one of these days she’ll stop by again. I know she’s drowning in paperwork…”

Send me “/)///v///(\” to see how my muse would talk about yours, to another person.

“Dlanor is incredibly professional, she is actually a role model to me. How she could put up with that damn heartless Erika Furudo girl for so long is beyond me… She isn’t afraid to take on a challenge, and doesn’t shy away in the face of danger. She is certainly someone I would want to have my back in a tight situation.” He held the other inquisitors name quite highly and admired her from the bottom of his heart. He doesn’t really express this admiration towards her often, but it’s obvious he looks up to the other.

Hey kids, this blog has officially been around since Dec 2011! So since ya’ll love being in the moment it occurred to me that you might not have had the time or patience to dig through my tags, posts, or lists. So here’s some posts that I am pretty fond of and think will help people out, all in one place.

The Big Book of Writing Sex; A Tactless Resource! 

The Extremely Basic Roleplay Basics

RP Basics

Advanced Roleplay Tips

How to Fight: The RP Basics!

Romance (and Lust) Roleplaying Help!

Mary Sues and Gary Stus

How To RP a Blind Character

Roleplaying Daddy (and Mommy) Issues

What should I put on an OOC page?

Grammar and Punctuation

Places to Find RP?

Step-By-Step: How to Unpack Ideas.

How to Make Passive Characters More Interesting?

Are there good Self Inserts?

How do I Handle a Clique?

A List of Things Muns Are Not

Tagging Posts and Reblogs and Why You Should

Things Not To Do To Canon Characters

Character Meta-Disrespect: The Douchewaffle Effect

A PSA: You Can Play Your Character However You Want

Magic Anon: The Actually Helpful Post

How to Play a Jerk Without Being a Jerk?

Breaking it to Them Nicely They Don’t So Much Suck As Need Help

How to Murder a Chatroom: Why an OOC room is a Bad Idea.

How to Play a Powerful Character without Godmodding?

Social Stigma for Fantasies and Why it Happens?

Character Secrets and How To Present Them? 

Character Creation Guide: General Edition 

What Not To Do, EVER! aka The Roleplaying Sins

Getting Started Starter Pack

Ideas For First Posts

send me a 👾 , and I’ll post my muse’s reaction to your muse giving them a randomly generated item from the green box generator

[ a macabre Christmas decoration…? ]

One human skull. An electric plug has been affixed to the bottom. Visible inside the skull cavity are two lights, one red, one green. If plugged in, the lights light up in an alternating pattern.

Dlanor, bless her, isn’t an easy child to offend, if even she is able to be offended at all: Virgilia knows this well from their age-old friendship. And yet, without any particular context accompanying the…‘gift’ the inquisitor entrusts to her now, she honestly isn’t immediately able to place her facial expression. Certainly, to call it a ‘gift’ flies hard again sheer common sense – younger witches than herself might appreciate the morbidity and the tackiness of the object in equal message, but she is quite unable to find any appeal with it whatsoever.