#thread 17

Meeting Wolfwood was.... A shock, striking his heart in a way that wounded him. It could have gone worse, truly, it could have. After all he'd done he's not surprised the man panicked and all but killed him yet ran for his life.

It was then he realized, despite his care and love for those around him, he hadn't really branched out. He'd isolated, retreated from the masses. Even during the moss, he hid rather than helped. During the Sonare he just anxiously stayed home and protected Legato whilst panicking about Badou. He doesn't talk about how he didn't act panicked about the man but fussed over his poor eating when he'd gotten home.

So it's here, walking the streets like a ghost that he all but rams head first into a new chance. Granted, they were quite a distance, but eyes watched the figure. A new Echo without a doubt, one leg looking framed, braced almost? Injured, old by the sight of it.

Then there's the energy.

It's potent in the way one becomes pungent when they bathe in perfume or swaddle themselves in layers upon layers of floral notes. It permeates his senses, but he can tell it's simply a lingering note rather than possession. Once gifted great power, or perhaps a twisted curse, he couldn't say. All he knew was it held a tang not unlike Plants, yet entirely different. Dimensional benders, quantum entanglements, magical in nature, but he had little to no idea beyond this.

Interesting indeed.

Even without recent events, his heart ached for the figure. Hair disheveled and hardly washed, a mop of unkempt as his body clearly went on without his mind entirely present. It reminded him of Eriks.

I couldn't be there for you, brother, but perhaps I can be there for a human. A change you'd be proud of me for doing, no? Perhaps even Wolfwood would approve.

The closer he gets, trotting over the street he inspects closer now. The man is swaying, squinting at the menu, at the bag of keys, looking wasted, but a quick scent of the air and there's no alcohol. Fresh from arrival it seems.

"Do you have any allergies?" He neared, Gato sniffing towards the man before looking to her handler, focused on his state of being as he smiled to the new figure. "I take it you too arrived in this world. Recently, if the confusion is anything to go by. If you like, I could help you, answer some questions. Once you're fed, of course." He opens the door.

It wasn't often he got take out, Legato always made divine food, but the scent of the Chinese shop made even his own stomach rumble.

The mask, they've been told, is able to completely disguise their appearance. That's good news; their appearance is fairly distinctive. If there's a problem, it's that there is nothing they can do to hide the way they speak. It's not really in the spirit of the game to give away their identity right away, right?

After asking one of the servers for a pad of paper, they approach someone at random and show them the words written:

Astarion had been on edge, haunting the festival since he'd brokered Badou to find Steven. Chaos, insanity, pain, all plagued his mind, enough that even Jeremiah was writhing in discomfort.

Right. Jeremiah. He wonders if the distance from his homeworld is what kept the little guy from being so chaotic as he had been before. Must be all the Mind Flayers and cult shit or something.

Eyes draw him to a stall, he swore it was a Tiefling behind the counter but he wasn't sure anymore. He smiled from behind the pain, trauma instincts making him play the part of a handsome young man that eagerly flirts. Eyes drift over the wares as he chatters along, they were all from his world, old fabrics with familiar markings, tinctures, potions, spell scrolls. Oh how Gale would have loved to read the books on magic beside them.

What he doesn't expect, is to find a plushie of a Displacer Beast. Vicious things, so he's heard, but someone took the time to make it cute. Soft round muzzle, big pleading eyes, gentle smile around the paw stuffed in it's mouth like a kitten suckling for comfort.

Delicate fingers lift the toy, eyes softening as he looks into the large, rounded eyes, the soft glossiness to the orbs reflecting red back.

The world swiftly fell away, pain ripped into his left eye. It took everything he'd learnt not to scream in agony as one hand shot up to grip at his skull.

What was it now? Was someone trying to control Jer? Was he in danger? This felt like whenever he connected with the others. With a held breath of hope he closed his eyes, gripping the plush close and opened himself to the messages of the worm.

What he got shattered everything, his whole world ripped upside down, memories zipping by faster than he can process, blinding him to the world he stood in. A pained whimper left him, unable to hear the woman ask if he was okay as he staggered a step.

Darkness, wings, a tendril, rotten fleshy meat, a man so desperate for his family, immortal, Sharran trials, a forge, told to detonate for consideration of forgiveness, time's running out on the infernal bomb. More as he tilts his head; the dream visitor is a mind flayer, the idiot bard ate the fucking worm and veins blackened. The next fight he'd exploded into a Displacer to protect the people, the changelings, book shop, Mystra, prayers, a cat, a general pigeon?

"Ah, fuck. Stop, Jeremiah!" He snarls the words through the pain and the fear. It was too much, it was all his vision, his thoughts, his actions, his friends, and yet-

Baldur's Gate. They were home, they were-

"No!" He backs up into the tent without meaning to, hiding in the corner even as he moved forward in the memories.

The manor, his siblings, the kennels, Godey, deeper, deeper, the catacombs, the ritual, he finally understood, he knew what the scars were, only ever a body for someone to use and throw out when they were done. Enraged he stood over pale skin, glared down, old red met the scarlet inferno that was him. A choice to make, sacrifice or slaughter, power or vengeance, to have all that the bastard desired, or to be better than him.

To kill thousands, or just one.

"NO!" He screams the word in terror, reminded all over again of the horror of the moss as he's ripped back to the present by a scent. By warmth. Jeremiah had gone dormant again, taking the brunt of the trauma of the sudden rush, too tired to do more than murmur soft assurances.

Red snapped around and honed in hard on the source of that scent, meeting those familiar eyes, no longer filled with terror, no longer empty and void of life, right beside the man meant to bring him there, witnessing a panicked meltdown in a tent clutching the plush for dear life.

Never before has the color of honey looked so good.

@matthewxclarke​

Matt had every intention of being nice and staying out of this all. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He was on his way to the pub when he heard footsteps near him. Time to see just how far he could go with this thing, he decided. A little smirk appeared on his lips and he cleared his throat. “Pick up your pace. Walk beside me. None of this creeper shadow shit. Come on, now.”

Dhani groaned from behind him, picking up his pace, forcibly or not, he didn’t mind. He had been with Matthew before in a situation very similar to this one, at least he wouldn’t feel mindless about the experience.

“I was trying to sneak up on you. Surprise you. Hey, Matt.”

@elijahxxwilson​

Elijah was starting to learn a lesson and that was don’t fuck with people stronger then you cause they will kill you. That had been proven when Keith had tried to drown him the night before and the thing that sucked as that it was Keith who had to save him too.

He had decided he might play by the book if people weren’t so quick to judge him and he moved into the library, looking for an empty seat as he clutched his sketch book in his arms. He found a table with someone sat at it and he moved forward, “Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Not at all. Go right ahead.”

Jody reached over, taking a few books away from the space Elijah was about to occupy. There was research of some kind happening here, Jody had a notebook open, shaky chicken scratch writing looking to be, if Elijah could even read it, magical notations pertaining to necromantic magic. Nothing so much as spells or glyphs or anything so advance, but any general history or information at all. The books looked terribly old.

Was Dhani taking his day off playing wandering minstrel in hopes of running into Tommy so he could play his prodigal best friend a tune from a mostly forgotten 70s sitcom? You bet your ass he was. It didn’t take as long as Dhani thought to learn the song, which was great, because he didn’t know how to play it until last night when he got the idea at 3am and knew he had until this morning to pull it off. Luckily it wasn’t a particularly hard song anyway, but it was well past noon and he hadn’t seen Tommy yet. He was carrying around his sunburst blue acoustic guitar that Raziel had gotten him for his birthday, strumming random songs while looking around for his friend. Not having much luck, he sat in the quad, and managed to make a few bucks with his playing, though that wasn’t his aim at all.

Dhani switched from the Beatles’ “Yesterday”, though he hadn’t been singing at all this whole time, to his prepared song, just for Tommy.

Welcome back, your dreams were your ticket out Welcome back, to that same old place that you laughed about Well the names have all changed since you hung around But those dreams have remained and they've turned around Who'd have thought they'd lead ya Back here where we need ya Yeah we tease him a lot 'cause we got him on the spot Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back, welcome back Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back

@brightwood-duchess​

Katell walked into the room with a proud smile on her face. She wear wearing a new dress. A tight, short, revealing dress the likes she’d never worn before. In 964 years it was the sexiest thing she’d ever worn!

She’d tried out the look with her kink professor the night before and now it was time to show everyone else. It was strange how the looks of others, a thing that struck fear into her like nothing else, was now a source of thrill and excitement. She was making a rebellious statement and the more people who saw the more its attention became a drug.

“Katell?” 

Jody questioned, unsure he was really laying eyes on her cute summer dress that was something entirely new to what he was used to seeing her in. It seemed to Jody she was afraid, or unwilling more like, to let go of her past, or her position. He was out walking Mouse and the little dog looked just as happy to see her, obviously regardless of what the woman was dressed in. He loved people no matter what, generally.

“You look great.”

[cont from here]

@wade-jensen

They were sitting in the hot tub, enjoying themselves. Wade was leaning his head back, just allowing himself to relax. Then, a bit of a devious smirk crossed his lips. He looked over at Jody. “You know what would be fun?” he asked, licking his lips.