|
Topseeker Application On the steps of the tower usually strode mighty heroes, ancient dragons, wyrd constructs and all manner of beasts. The last few days have been no different, however one anomaly exists. Perched atop one of the low steps, a teenager mopes. She doesn't seem particularly bothered with what's going on. In fact, she has been ignoring all of it in favour of whatever seems to be on the slate she is reading from or tapping her feet to the obnoxious tones coming out of her earpieces. But when the gate opens again for the fifth time, she gets up and wanders in. Name: Whatever Itsnotlikeyoucare Race: Teenager Class: Emomancer Health: base health: 3d6+10 18 Armour: base armour: 1d6+10 15 Accuracy: +1 Skills: – Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abillities: Emomancy – Only teenagers have the right imbalance of the humours to properly conduct emomancy, the Art of using your own or other peoples emotions to force outcomes, change attitudes and hurt people. Fashion Advice –Youth culture is the only culture worth noting, and a teenager is the utmost expert in all of what that entails. Without the latest trends you are nothing. Indifference – A wall of indifference protects the teenager from responsibility and pain. Talent Dramabomb – Of all the skills of Emomancy, nothing is more difficult than the art of the Dramabomb. A snide remark can cause an enemy to falter, the right word in the right place can change history. But the right word in the wrong place, or the wrong word in the right? That can alter reality. Motto – Whatever AI Action – Loiter, blog about what's happening, be sarcastic to authority figures. Mystery – sarcastic, Mom, boyband, reluctantly, unemployed
|
#
¿
Dec 12, 2014 12:52
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ Apr 29, 2024 05:11 |
|
|
Teenager Health: base health: 3d6+10 18 Armour: base armour: 1d6+10 15 Accuracy: +1 Once inside the Tower, the teenager half walked, half slouched onto the mud-goblin-field. You could tell her heart wasn't really in this. When the Goblin Shaman appeared, menacing his staff and conjuring mudgoblins by the handful, all she could muster was a yawn in his general direction. When she finally spoke it was a dull monotony: "this is so boring. like, haven't they already done this floor four times already?" "Whatever, goblins are babies anyway. They never do anything fun and nobody likes them." Her eyes glaze over for a few seconds and she returns to her hand-slate, oblivious to anything going on around her. Using indifference to ignore/tank any goblin attack whilst my allies deal with the Goblin Shaman. ignore attacks: 1d20+1+4 25
|
|
#
¿
Dec 16, 2014 23:43
|
|
|
Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abillities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference The teenager looked up from her data slate. For a second, she looked almost impressed. "Did I miss a rave?" "Uh, nevermind, looks like all the goblins left at least. That's a relief, I was getting even more bored than usual..." She is quiet for a moment, before she spots the artifact. "Hey is that a crystalline heart? "Yeah, those are pretty cool I guess. Hearts aren't really in this season, though." Do I Care about a Crystal Heart?: 1d100 60 She thinks for a moment more. Using Fashion Advice on myself to encompass it into my outfit.: 1d20+1+4 14 Without anyone realizing it, she had already walked up to the artifact and ruined it. "There." she said, and put on her new necklace. "That's better." 
Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at 21:57 on Dec 19, 2014 |
|
#
¿
Dec 19, 2014 21:54
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abillities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference The Teenager looked unfazed as the effects of the portal transitioning wore off. Ahead of her was The Well, but to her it was a wall like any other. A wall that had already been vandalized. It was quiet high up, however. Perhaps the view was nice? Teenagers are experts at getting to places where they don't belong. This one looked up casually from her slate and quietly plotted a trajectory... yes, there will do. Ledgesitting using my Loitering skill with the handholds and the wave bonus.: 1d20+1+4+5+5 25 A perfect ledge. To sit on. "I'ma sit here until something happens." She said, and adjusted her headset, idly tapping the bone-wall with her sneakers.
|
|
#
¿
Dec 26, 2014 04:54
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abillities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference The teenager utterly ignores The Word as it hovers up next to her, completely focused on her hand held device. Using blogging to pass the time. Blogging: 1d20+1+4+5 19
|
|
#
¿
Jan 7, 2015 19:30
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abillities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent Dramabomb – Of all the skills of Emomancy, nothing is more difficult than the art of the Dramabomb. A snide remark can cause an enemy to falter, the right word in the right place can change history. But the right word in the wrong place, or the wrong word in the right? That can alter reality. Rudely taken from her seat atop the ledge, the teenager finds herself in yet another surely boring, room. A Vast tree, a blanket, a serial killer, and a bunch of fruit. Looking up from her device, suddenly keen on her surroundings, the teenager starts speaking. "Oh great. Fruit. Mom always used to say "You should eat more fruit dear." "Don't forget to take some fruit with you when you go out." "Have you eaten your fruit today?" " Like every single day fruit fruit fruit it was all I would ever hear just eat more fruit why don't you eat fruit its soooo frustrating it's like no, mom, I don't even like fruit! Why should I eat something I don't even like why are you being so rude why should I eat fruit its not like its ever done anything good for me it's not like fruit has ever done anything good to anyone ever. DRAMABOMB Drama Bomb: 1d4 2 Drama Bomb: 1d4 2 Drama Bomb: 1d4 4
|
|
#
¿
Jan 8, 2015 22:25
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 17/18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Outfit Ruined: 1d6 1 Drama, explosions, violent ents slashing and ripping and tearing and the betrayal of fruit. It was all too much for an ordinary person. However, Whatever was a teenager and as such knew the true meaning of pain. It lay in words, not deeds. The swiftest cut was no match for the deftest tongue, the mightiest armour would fail when the ego was assaulted. Such is the way of the emomancer. The teenager adjusted her jacket and brushed herself of with nary a thought. She glanced at Adam, once, and told him the truth. "You used to be cool." "But, Whatever, I'm so done with you." Her hand shoot up in front of him, indicating any further attempts at communication would be moot. The room she was in now was clearly an elevator, and usually she would be jumping (alright, slouching) at the chance to find some way to use it inappropriately, but then that old lady with four arms came up to her and tried to tell her what to do in the most patronising way possible. What was this? A PTA meeting? Whatever was having none of it. No, all of that would have to wait. The hole in the wall offered a good ledge and a good view, a perfect spot to clear the mind and do a bit of social engineering. The TopSeeker forums weren't that hard to find, indeed, she had bookmarked them ages ago. A few second later, a new post was born. Whatever posted:Ugh, you know, I came into this tower thinking it was going to be like one of those bard songs, right? All dragons, fashion and romantic stuff but so far it's only been boring old people telling me what to do and dumb goblins made out of mud. Like, I dont get enough of that at home? Then there is this bloke, Adam, right? He's all dark and mysterious, the brooding type? Or that's what he'd want you to think. Thinks he's sooooo hot. When actually, he just looks like a clownish slenderman wannabe. Using Gossip to spread gossip about Adam and Rasheek. Spreading Gossip: 1d20+5+2 12 Its not very effective. Probably because only teenagers actually knew how to access the Arcanomatrix. Her post done, Whatever drifted away in thought.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 12, 2015 23:54
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 (fully healed) Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharge in 2 turns) The teenager briefly looks up from her reverie, at the tall priest offering to fix her jacket. Was that a smile? No, impossible. She looks as moody as ever. "thx" Is all she can muster, before looking back down at her device. If possible, her posture is even more awkward than usual as her feet tap impatiently on the floor. After a while she begins to speak again. "You know you shou' " is all she gets out before being torn through yet another portal, landing in a village square surrounded by people. Roll a Thousand: 1d1000 = 829 Disoriented, she stumbled across the village square for a while gathering her wits and trying to take stock of the situation. This was some sort of party. The music was loud, so far so good, but what of all these people? Suddenly the bells chimed and the voice rang out. CHOOSE went the voice that everyone could hear. Disobey Authority (indifference): 1d20+1 = 3 "you can't tell me what to do" was the teenagers reply. Somehow it didn't have the defiance she usually mustered. Perhaps all the teleporting had gotten to her, or some remnants of all the attempts at hypnosis or domination. Whatever the reason, she continued: "I mean, nobody can really force anyone to do anything really, it's all free will right? Everybody always tries though and it's so infuriating, like they think just because their older that they know better and that I can't take care of myself! But you know what, I can! I can climb this stupid tower if I want and show them all. I'll show them all. I wont even do it properly. You want me to choose? Fine, I choose." "I will show them all." The crossing of her arms, could not be more crossed.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 15, 2015 21:46
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharge in 1 turns) As the challenge was set, and the moon changed and people set of for the run of their lives, the Teenager did not move an inch. The party was in full swing, math was being maticed, adrenaline was pumping and all around her everyone was moving. All with one goal, all with one purpose. Climb the tower, get to the end, climb the tower, win for the team, win for myself. If you had the eye for it, the village square was screaming with hormones and magic, with desire and determination. If you had the skill, a simple tug was all you needed.... To Unravel... Using emomancy to sabotage the enemy team.: 1d20+1 = 5 your own shoelaces and fall flat on your face. Whatever, they obviously wern't trying hard enough. Yeah, thats it. Thats why that didn't work. Dismayed, the teenager picked herself up from the ground and looked around for a grownup to give her a ride, or something.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 17, 2015 00:28
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharge in 1 turns) As she picked herself up from the ground, she couldn't help but think she had been going about this the wrong way. The stupid voice in the sky was telling her to run and everyone else was blindly following along. No wonder her 'mancing wasn't working, it was like being back at school. Just a bunch of dead fish following the stream. But just as she was thinking about giving up on everyone, storming of somewhere or perhaps leaving the contest entirely, she heard a voice tinged with the familiar sound of defiance. One of the topseekers wasn't running. One of them wasn't having any of it. Whatever looked around sheepishly, manoeuvring her way through the crowd until she could get a better look at him. What was is name, Bronan? The tall, muscular brobarian... She found a house wall nearby to lean against for a moment, and corrected her headphones, brushing her hair aside slightly with one hand and did her very best to appear to not notice him at all. Sigh.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 17, 2015 08:02
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged) Whatever, model teenager that she was, had long ago perfected the art of indifferent posturing. Her skill at nochalantly leaning against things was second to none and the methods she employed to avoid eye contact would have saved countless heroes from the gorgons gaze. When she ignored you, you felt it. But for all her efforts, that big lunk ran off to bash some guys skull in, in some sort of Alpha-Male display that was just so typical. Effected By Time Slow?: 1d20 4 (-5 to movement, -1 to rolls) Heads or Tails: 1d2 2 (nothing happens) Time seemed to slow down as her grumbling intensified. Ignore her will he? The Nerve! Fine, if everybody wants to be boring let them. This is a stupid contest anyway! The teenager sat down in a huff, occationally staring daggers at Bronan and the other contestants, but seemingly content to persue her hand-held-tablet dejectedly, fuming. Drama Bomb: 1d4 4 And then, something happened. check your email dogkisser
|
|
#
¿
Jan 20, 2015 10:50
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged again) As chaos erupted around her, above her, to all sides of her, Whatever could not care less. More? She didn't care at all. The grownups could do their thing. Oh the world could end in a moment, but couldn't it always just? Her pale features, reflected hauntingly in the last light of a dying moon as she recited; ~ Eulogy for the Moon ~ ~ bending like a spoon ~ ~ as we meet our doom ~ ~ or find an exit from this room ~ ~ all they do is follow ~ ~ can't they see it's hollow? ~ ~ like a broken swallow ~ ~ falling in the wind ~ ~ nobody gets it, really ~ ~ they cannot see it clearly ~ ~ soon they will pay dearly ~ ~ unless they stop to think ~ ~ the only thing that matters ~ ~ when all else is in tatters ~ ~ when all hope seems but scattered ~ ~ is that you look good ~ A black tear ran down her face, obviously moved by her own skill at poetry. Her reciting done, she once again focused on her tablet. Perhaps some blogging could get her mind off things? Surely somewhere on the arcanomatrix was a blogg discussing the various artifacts the top seekers had found so far, or perhaps she could find a page detailing the statistics of various magical hearts? Blogging, What Does My Artifact Do?: 1d20+5+2 8 (critfail) What?! Her Tablet wasn't working? It was dark! Where was the arcanomatrix? Where was her access?? WHO DID THIS?! She looked up again, noticing the Word for the first time.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 21, 2015 23:11
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged) Reception was down and the moon had been replaced by a million staring eyes, all judging and demanding. Off in the distance the teams were all squabbling about the contest. Well, she was quiet sure that winners were losers. That should mean that losers were winners, and they were all losers really. That should mean that everybody wins, which is what they wanted, which means that they all lose. It was all perfectly clear to her; For all the knowledge Teachers tried to convey that they alone had some sort of mystical access too, they only ever got one thing right. That the key to everything was focus. However, they didn't even get that right. The key to everything wasn't what you focused on, it was what you didn't focus on that really mattered. You'd never get anywhere if all you did was worry about what was going on right now. A soldier at war doesn't think about his wounds if he wants to keep on fighting. No, just like a teenager, he ignores them. So Whatever did what she did best. She ignored the competition. She ignored the eyes, twinkling light starlight above her. She ignored the contestants, vying for glory. She ignored the crowds with wild abandon. She ignored the mark on her hand, signifying she had ever taken part in this stupid contest. Most of all, with the conviction and zeal of every teenager ever, she ignored death or the possibility of defeat. Using indifference to ignore losing.: 1d20+1 3 Which was fine in theory, but didn't really help.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 27, 2015 00:26
|
|
|
Dead: Whatever Alive: The Word
|
|
#
¿
Jan 29, 2015 20:07
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (4 turns to go) Except it did help. Death had not come for her, or if it had, it had somehow missed her. Like always, Teenagers got away with everything. Scholars say that to spend an instant in the realm of the dead is to spend eternity. Teenagers say that spending an instant listening to scholars, is to spend an eternity. Perhaps they are both right, but whatever time had passed for Whatever seemed to have taught her exactly zilch. For when she opened her eyes, and saw that nothing had changed, all she did utter was: “Pfft. That was lame.” At least the contest seemed to be over. Half of the contestants were missing, but it wasn't as if she'd noticed many of them anyway? Who was left that she recognized? The nice Lich and the Serial Killer. The old lady with four arms and what she absently mindlessly categorized as 'Slime'. The rest were all new to her, although that Bronan character seemed to be missing. Was that a smile or a frown? Hard to tell. So, what, there was a pile of junk now? Maybe something could be salvaged from the detritus. With her arcanomatrix device currently out of order, perhaps that Spyglass of Identification could be used to tell her what her crystal heart actually did? … Was that a skull? Now that, she could use. Get me some Skull: 1d100 87 Spyglass of Identification: 1d100 49
|
|
#
¿
Jan 30, 2015 18:58
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 15 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (4 rounds) Looking through the pile, she notices a breastplate that was discarded by the others, perhaps she could put that to good use now that someone else had beaten her to the skull. All it would take was a little needle and thread and some sequins... yes... With everything going on around her, she could work undisturbed. Rolling for the Breastplate: 1d100 47 Fashion Advice to work the breastplate into my outfit.: 1d20+5 17  Perfect. A little Goth, but she did just die after all. And that called for something a little more... spooky.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 30, 2015 22:36
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 18 Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (3 rounds) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate Her outfit completed, the teenager is suddenly transported to the Finest Restaurant. Now this was more like it! Billions of people around her, but a good percentage of them had obvious class. She glanced over the appetizers and nodded approvingly. Deadly nightshade and gorgon eyes, as petrifying as any unprepared for exam. You wouldn't think it from casual observation, but she was in her element. However it was clear the rest of the Topseekers were not. Fashion Advice to make sure people aren't wearing their napkins wrong.: 1d20+5 21 A cold glance there, a small cough here. A polite, discrete waggling finger. If the worst came to the worst, an actual explanation, whispered in the offenders ear. Even if Whatever hadn't been a babysitter for her local nobility (which she had) she knew the most important place in the world to be recognized was the cafeteria, and she would
|
|
#
¿
Feb 2, 2015 20:31
|
|
|
Teenager Whatever rolls her eyes at Chaunceys request and says “yeah, Whatever. It's not like you care.” After a very deliberate pause, she continues. “Dunno why I'm here really. Seemed fun I guess, but it's been pretty boring so far. I found this Crystal Heart a while back but I can't figure out what it does. Ever seen anything like it? “ Whatever offers the Crystal Heart up (for inspection only) to anyone who wishes to help her identify it, and in general as a conversation piece for the table at large. “So that was some party huh. Back in the village. A bit tame, but with so many old people around what are you going to do?” “At least the Skeletons knew how to dance but I think the Zombies should have dressed up a bit better. Honestly, don't they even think about that kind of stuff?” During the whole conversation she keeps her eyes at the table more then on any one guest. When she does look up, it's to check out the various people around them and her environment in general. Bringing out her Arcanomatrix device now would be inappropriate in the circumstances. So when the Word mentions something going on outside the other guests might be taken aback at the speed of which it is indeed brought forth. Even if the city had exploded, there was enough latent arcane energy (and shielded arcanonexii) where it used to be that picking up the signal was no problem at all, especially with her reception cleared up from the Words tampering. A few button presses later and the people seated at the table could get a clear view of what was happening out there, projected onto the tablecloth by a little light in the corner of her device.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 3, 2015 02:59
|
|
|
Teenager A single look His Royal Majesty Nicodemus Kessler was all she needed to determine what the problem was. For starters, the outfit was centuries old. It was also torn in places where the bulge of absorbing an entire man onto your skeletal frame was too much for mere fabric. Yes. The man was a fashion disaster. “Looks like you need it.” She said disapprovingly. “But yeah I can work with that. After dinner, of course.” Whatever took a look at Longweis Crystal Duck. It was magnificent, in a way, but she felt it was out of place. She imagined it bobbing up and down in a bathtub made of diamonds. Absorbing the stress of a thousand lifetimes, or a single day of school. Nonetheless she replied: “Oh Ducks are pretty popular this season. For babies.” “I don't know who Bud was. Was he the ghost? I saw a ghost. It did a wicked pose. One of the best I've seen, and that's saying something. A ghost like that should be remembered.” “He was a huge poser.” Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at 05:22 on Feb 3, 2015 |
|
#
¿
Feb 3, 2015 05:18
|
|
|
Teenager Oh, now they where sharing stories. A teenagers life was all about stories. But the stories there were more real. They affected things, changed outcomes. A good enough story was as close to reality as you could get, in some cases. “There once was a girl named Rebecca. She was super popular and all the boys (and some of the girls) liked her. She had long teal hair that she kept in a braid with several knots of cloth. Rebecca was great at athletics, she used to run around the school plaza for fun, several laps every recess. One day a boy named Gracius decided he wanted to woo her, so he waited for her to start running and sprinted after her, determined to win in this imagined race. After they had run seven laps, they both collapsed, panting, under the shade of a willow tree. He threw his arm into the air, struck a pose and congratulated himself at her expense. He slowed down before the final stretch, letting her win and told her how amazing she was, though he did not believe it. He gave it his all, but she beat him fair and square. Swallowing his pride, he became her apprentice. They married, they divorced. She never even noticed him. " "Who was he at the beginning, and who was he at the end? Every word I say changes everything about him and none of you will ever be the wiser. " Her story complete, she turned to Longwei once more. “The best creatures are cats.” She stated this as matter of factly as if her words where a mountain unshiftable by faith and the work of aeons.”The best cat is my cat.” “Aren't you? Aren't you just?” She said, and opened her backpack, letting it out. It perched on her shoulder and glared at people even more scathingly than even Whatever herself. “Say hello” "Meow" 
|
|
#
¿
Feb 3, 2015 06:33
|
|
|
Teenager Now that everyone was settled in at the table and manacled to their seats as was the custom of this restaurant, there was an important issue that needed to be addressed. One that might divide them more then their recent fatal competition. A question that, if asked, could alter the very nature of everyone present. “So, have you heard any good music lately?” It hung in the air, vibrant and threatening. Whatevers keen gaze bore into each and every soul present. Their replies would be judged, harshly.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 5, 2015 02:12
|
|
|
Teenager When the music had died down and the guests had had their say, the Teenager did not immediately respond to any one submission. Instead, she did the unthinkable. She took off her headphones. Taking care not to disturb her shoulder mounted cat, she plugged the cord into her Arcanomatrix Device and the restaurant flooded with music. The projection on the table changed to a strange vision of a strange world, figures boiling, bubbling, their souls on fire, screaming. A haunting melody accompanied the images, twisting dark blades of woe into the listeners. The unending beat speaking of the futility of existence. The pain of living was unbearable, it seemed to say, and all hope was lost. In the middle of it all was the singer, a young man with dark hair but without a hint of emotion on his features. His voice as cold as he was pale. A shiver went through the air as the music stopped, and all around them was silence. “It's pretty deep.” she said, lost in thought.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 5, 2015 04:51
|
|
|
Teenager Whatever turned her attention to the Word, taking care to stroke her cat gently as she did so. “This is my cat.” “It is the best cat and it has the best name.” “Her name is.. What's that? You don't want to tell him? She says you can pet her if you like though, but she might bite you. That's her thing.” Her sharing quota spent, she seemed a bit out of sorts. Looking away, she unplugged her headphones and carefully put them back on her head. The projection on the table changed back to the scenes outside the tower. “That's not how I remember it." She said, clearly contemplating. "I wonder what happened?” Whatever looked down at her device and started fiddling with it. A few moments later the scene changed yet again. “There we go. Tapped into the last known recordings... Here's us in the village, look you can see Chauncey turning the wheel over there in the corner... and here is the outside the tower at the same time. The lights in the restaurant dimmed for a moment as the table became a miniature representation of a nuclear wasteland, every living being atomized. It shouldn't be possible, as it was only a projection, but a saltshaker tipped over and spread it's fine ashlike contents over the tablecloth, as if the ethereal shockwave still echoed through the astral planes. “Radical.” “Wanna see that again?” “I can put it in slow motion if you like.” Whatever didn't wait for a reply, immediately repeating the projection. Halfspeed, the wheel turned like molasses, the image of Chauncey straining to complete the floor before it brought the Topseekers more madness. The tower, collapsing, the blimps outside crashing, the tavern evaporating, the stands crumbling like a delicate flower. Life to ashes. The untold suffering. Again and again. In HD. “It's pretty.” Whatever said. “Don't you think so?” “Pity my school wasn't there.” “Just kidding.” She clearly wasn't.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 5, 2015 18:55
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 27 (up from 18) Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (2 rounds remaining) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate Gorgon’s Eye Soup with Nightshade Coulis’ was, if not a regular dish, something that was at least served every once in a while at Whatevers place of schooling. Sure, it wasn't readily available for the student body at large, being a dangerous and somewhat expensive dish. Sure, it wasn't actually legal to serve, and yes, it would be a stretch to say that it was served at all. Stolen by a gang of teenage hoodlums from the bio-alchemists quarters in the dead of night might be more accurate. Eaten on a dare, certainly. The school locked down for a fortnight, whilst a small battalion of ghostly health insSpectres searched through the premises. Ah, memories... Healthy Food Boon: 2d6 9 The point was, she had eaten it before and found it delicious. The exhilaration of the forbidden was lost in this forced environment, but the taste was the same. The Chef clearly knew his business. Now, what was next on the menu? Tentacles and crab legs, a bounty of the sea. Whatever wasn't averse to weird food. Teenagers usually fall in one out of two camps, eat everything or eat nothing. Whatever was firmly in the first. Ah, but there were so many people here. She couldn't budge from the table of course, but there must be thousands of guests all around her. Surely some of them would have access to the Arcanomatrix. There must be some chatter going on. Whats the Gossip?: 1d20+5+1 15 (+1 from being chill) Whatever is looking specifically for information about this room from any of the other untold guests seated in this restaurant. Whilst she waited for her initial query to gain a few replies, she selected some Fine Dining Tongs and a pair of Industrial Dining Scissors from the mountain of utensils, making sure to adhere to all the rules of etiquette so firmly ingrained in her (if only so she could ignore them at opportune times) and made her way to the second course. Finding a particularly vicious tentacle, she set it down in front of her cat. What happened next could only be described as adorable or horrifying. Needless to say, her cat would not go hungry today. Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at 02:26 on Feb 7, 2015 |
|
#
¿
Feb 7, 2015 02:21
|
|
|
Teenager “Having trouble with your Crabs, Nico?” she smirked. “You aren't supposed to use the hammer right away you know.” She took her mind of her own food for a moment and continued. “You must not have many dark elves where you come from.” “Or you'd know, I mean.” Whatever stared thoughtfully into her meal. “They love their seafood.” “I know a few back at my school. They always use that little whip first to snag the crab claws so they don't get pinched.” She said, pointing to one of the many utensils laid out before them. “Not that they would mind if they did get pinched, but they love whips so what are you going to do.” “It's their thing.” “I remember our gym teacher tried having whips banned from gym class once. Boy was that a mistake. They had a delegation over from the Drow Embassy at the principles office before you could say 'Spider'.” "Mr. Stevensons was even paler then you after that." “They aren’t Goths though.” She said, apropos of nothing. Whatever was performing some sort of ritual with her food as she went on, according to some esoteric rule she probably knew about. “The Drow I mean. Well, not all of them.” “Most of them are Webbers or Spikies. You hardly ever notice their Goths. Not that you could.” Perking up again, she starts describing their clothing. “They don't wear black you know.” “That is too bright for them. They invented this fabric that simply absorbs all the light, that's how dark they are.” She nods at The Word “kinda like that.” “Yeah.” A moment passes and she looks quizzically at the black hole. “Say, are you a Goth?” This was apparently important information. Her new topic selected, she turned her attention to the rapidly digging Longwei. “And what about you? Most dragons I know polymorph when they are around humanoids. I guess they are to scared of what people think? It's totally cool that you do your own thing though.” Whatever it was that kept Whatever engaged in this dinner conversation, it hadn't really urged her to confront the silent participants much as of yet. But appearances was everything, and she knew she had to figure out what everyone’s deal was, if only so she would look cool in comparison. Looking around she saw four unknown 'entities' seated at their table. She wasn't really sure about some of them though. Was that slime really a top seeker, or was It just a monster that had escaped from a previous Main Course? Was someone supposed to eat it? Or was it supposed to eat someone else? She did notice a Pie in the corner of her eye however. That definitely seemed animate. “Uh.” “Hey you.” she said “Your food. What do you think about all this?” Then there was the dog. Whatever wasn't a dog person, but she had the sneaking suspicion the dog was a person dog. It was acting like a dog dog at the moment however, and an angry dog at that. In her uncertainty Whatever simply carried her gaze onward to the nearest recognizable humanoid. Ah, a wizard. You could tell from the hat. “Nice hat.” she said. “Are you a teacher or do you just have a natural lack of style?” That left only one she hadn't introduced herself to. He seemed to all intents and porpoises as someone's interesting grandpa. Testing that theory, she said “Hey Gramps” “Cool cane, can I see it? What's it's story?” A good accessory was the best judge of character, she knew. The way she ignored Rasheek was a doctors dissertation of of dissing. She probably hadn't even noticed. As for Chauncey, the man seemed troubled and Whatever simply passed him over for the time being.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 7, 2015 16:28
|
|
|
Teenager (I accidentally drew some fanart. Thought I'd share. Hope nobody minds!) Enjoying her meal, Whatever leaned back in her chair and took in the scene around her.  
|
|
#
¿
Feb 8, 2015 00:45
|
|
|
Music Theory posted:Mind if I use it as Chauncey's portrait? Go ahead! I'd be honoured!
|
|
#
¿
Feb 8, 2015 01:22
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 (+6 this turn, so up from 27) Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (1 round remaining) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate As the Waiter brought out the next course (Ignis Custard Creme Brulee with Crystallized Torture-Bee Honey) Whatever was enjoying the last few morsels of her meal. Healthy Seafood: 3d4 6 She sat back in her chair and thought. All these people, all this food. There was bound to be energy here that she could use for something. Whatever let her mind wander... what emotions lay dormant, which where on the tip of her tongue, so to speak? Death, despair, anxiety, hunger, a longing for victory, boredom. That last one was hers, she realizes. Dinner had been fun and all, but she was getting antsy. Being manacled to the chair was no fun. Sitting still was no fun. Even the gossip she had found was no fun. Something needed to change and soon. She closed her eyes and concentrated, maybe there was something there?
|
|
#
¿
Feb 10, 2015 00:55
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (1 round remaining) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate … and there it was. A sudden spike, a well of emotions. Sadness, rage, love, loss, effervescent hate. Hate hate rage love loss hate love loss loss all in a torrent building up, cascading across the restaurant, being shaped and poured. It wasn't her doing, but it was fun and she had to be a part of it. She let her power free. This was going somewhere, she didn't even need to nudge it, just add to the flow. If emotions were like a river, she was an irrigation engineer. A blockade here, a siphon there, a pump or a sudden slope. All she needed was a source that wasn't already being drained... yes... Emomancy: 1d20+1 9 But there were so many conflicting sources. And the magic already channelled was so strong. Still, she persevered. She found strands of negativity from all over the restaurant. A man with a broken arm, his pain removed. A woman who only had two forks, instead of the mountain of utensils at all the other tables. Her confusion, vanished. Some sort of golem who was allergic to seafood, his anxiousness drained. It wasn't much, but it was something. The effort left her exhausted. What was with this tower? Why wasn't her Emomancy working as it should? Everything was stupid, she decided. It wasn't her fault.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 10, 2015 02:55
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (1 round remaining) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate In a huff, exasperated, Whatever turned from magic to her arcanomatrix device. Someone had left a message for her. Interesting, the Towerlord or perhaps just the latent tower defences was scrubbing the aether of dissenting messages. It was good, but Whatever was better. Dissenting was what teenagers were all about, after all. At any rate, someone had picked up on this and left a jumble of alphanumerics in an otherwise innocuous reply. Whatevers Arcanomatrix device was a thing of beauty. Not only could it pick up signals from the outside world from within this multidimensional prison maze nexus, but it was really fashionable too. She never went anywhere without it, and for good reason. With a crack of her knuckles she set to work, her eyes glazing over as she began typing furiously on the arcane runes set into the device. Numbers became letters, garbage text became short phrases. A substitution cipher, hidden behind a base64 MIME encoding system. Clever. After that it was easy. She read the message. Whatever blushed. She buried her face in her arms, hoping no one had seen her. Some dessert was just what she needed, after all this. She carefully picked out the right utensils and took her fair share. Every angle of the Brulee examined before she took a bite. Careful and methodical. She was sure to enjoy it.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 10, 2015 05:41
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 32 (33 - 1 from Dracoliching) Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber , Complimentary Mint The dinner complete and her prize caught, Whatever takes the complimentary mint and stuffs it in a pocket on her jacket. Her cat climbs back into her backpack and she neatly lays all the utensils in order before folding the napkin as instructed. Teleported to a new plane of shapes and war, she takes in her surroundings quietly. It was dreadfully empty, but that hardly mattered. Raising her head to think and to breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, then fixed her gaze on the Lich. "Hey, Nico. How about that makeover I promised?" Whatever walks over to a random spot in the infinite featureless plane and takes off her backpack, placing it on the ground. She reaches into it, far deeper than should be possible, and brings something out. But what? It looks like a wooden brick, but then she starts unfolding it. And then she keeps unfolding it. Why is she still unfolding it?  How could that possibly fit in her backpack? She looked back at him, the air full of anticipation.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 12, 2015 23:21
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 32 Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber , Complimentary Mint As soon as he stepped behind the partition Whatever immediately began to work. Behind it was an avalanche of gear, accessories and cloth that had somehow also spilled out of her backpack. As Nicodemus Kessler stood there in his skivvies, Whatever picked out the implements that would be most useful in his transformation. Makeover makeover! : Makeover makeover!: 1d20+1 20 Pliers, hammers, needle and thread. Bits of leather, sequins and bones. She poured it all over the floor and took out a roll of measuring tape. She looked him over once with a critical eye. "No no no, this wont do at all. You are royalty, that should show. We need shoulderpads, but ones that compliment your posture, we need a hat with feathers but it needs to match your wings. " Nicodemus was pretty sure he didn't have wings but that apparently didn't stop Whatever from her furious work. She rummaged through the great cloth pile on the floor until she found a velvet roll of scarlet and gold. It must have been worth a fortune, but it needed work to fit his skeletal frame. A moment later it flowed over his features like water, accentuating, alluring, allowing him ease of movement he never had never experienced in his bulky robes. She took to working on his back, needle and thread moving faster than sight. Without a trace of pain her skills apparently stretched into the chirurgical. Tendons stitched into his spinal column perfectly, black marrow protruding menacingly. The new flesh as much a part of him as any other. Finally she took out a small leather satchel from within her backpack and opened it to reveal a cornucopia of makeup. Elixirs and poultices. The deathshead was a classic symbol of lichdom, but it just wouldn't do. Too oldschool. She gave him skin anew, ears apoint. Red eyes filled his sockets. She took a step back, admiring her work.  "Yeah. I'm good."
|
|
#
¿
Feb 13, 2015 00:27
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 (33 + 1 from Complimentary Mint Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber , Complimentary Mint Her work completed, Whatever started packing her backpack again, although she did not take down the room partitioner, perhaps thinking that it still had some part to play it the bigger scheme of things. Only after she had put her things in order did she give any attention to the goings on over by the Geomatons. She took a bite out of her complimentary mint, thoughtfully, and took in their shapes and demands. (accidentally cost myself a hp before so I am healing it back here, it's just fluff.) "Man, shapes. What even ARE shapes. Sounds like boring math to me." "Anyway, uh, Sphere I guess, whatever." She continued chewing her mint, it's aspartameian chocolatey flavour nourishing her adequately. "Anyway, anyone else want a makeover?" she said hopefully.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 13, 2015 04:12
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: Crystal Heart, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber And so it came to pass that on the First Day of the First Year that The Makeoverer, Witch of Change Descended from the Very Heavens To bless Spherulea with her Divine Presence. And on that day did she behold the nation, and found it wanting. Nowhere to be Heard was the Music of her Peers. Nowhere to be Seen was the Fashion of the Times. All they had to offer was the Passion of their Minds. Wrath and hope and pride. This they brought to Her and in doing so, a new emotion, Faith began to stir. Bourne in this Cauldron of endless war. The Witch of Change did not speak at first, only Sigh, as she averted her eyes from This Shame, to the very heavens from which she came. But when she did spake, the world trembled. "I Wonder What The View Is Like From Up There." May these words never be forgotten. Thus the Witch of Change left the Spheruleans, her titanic strides shaking the very ground, her speed and grace unmatched. Her path took her not to the Mountain of the Gods, but to the mountain southwest of them, to the very top where none of our warriors dared follow. Such is the record of the First Day of the First Year. -Circlord the Round, Chief Acolyte of the Temple of the Witch of Change. --- Whatever took it all in with a strange aura about her. There were so many emotions here, things she never felt before. These people had Faith, in her. That was new, powerful. She had to clear her mind, get some perspective. She resolved to climb the lonely peak to get a better view of things, find some ledge to sit on. So she walked, and she climbed, and she found her Spot on the Mountain. Absentmindedly, she touched her Crystal Heart Medallion as she sat there, deep in thought. She let the music of her strange headgear flow around her and she Hummed, and with this Hum came a melody and with the Melody flowed her thoughts. Emomancy: 1d20+1 = 7 Using Emomancy together with this Nice View of Nature to get a feel for what my Crystal Amulet Does, as I had some ancient clue that it had to do with the Earth. The Cat in her backpack meowed loudly out of tune, disturbing her daydream. "Yeah it is kinda cool up here." She said. "I wonder what the other guys are doing."
|
|
#
¿
Feb 16, 2015 09:17
|
|
|
Name: Whatever Health: 33 Class: Goddess of Secrets? Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: The Heart of Stone, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber Whatever plucked the amulet from the palm of stone, a mad light in her eyes. The days of seclusion would soon come to an end. She tapped a few runes on her arcanomatrix device, turning her strange headgear silent. With a smooth, well practised motion she plucked them of her head and sat them on her shoulders. All around her was silence. The mountain held a pretty good view, but the abode of the gods in the middle of the lands blocked her from seeing it all. And how long had she been here anyway? That all familiar twinge of boredom was looming ever closer. No, something had to change. That's what those little spherepeople had said right? Change was good? They had called her the Witch of Change, before she left. Even now she could feel them, calling out to her, begging her in their silent prayers to change them and to change the world. As she stood there, on Witch Mountain, her eyes closed as she listened to the inner monologue of a thousand believers. Their demands where incessant, their cries unending. In a way it made sense, they had no style at all so naturally they would turn to the most stylish amongst them to find someone to emulate. A wind began to stir. Her outfit rippled in the sudden gust, but she stood firm. All around her crackled arcane energies, looking for escape, a conduit, a ground. All that faith had to go somewhere. She opened her eyes and began to speak, and somehow her voice was heard across the lands. "HEY YOU DUDES, GEOWHATEVERS, LISTEN UP! YOUR STYLES ARE WHACK! YOUR HYMNS ARE DUMB AND BORING. LIKE REALLY BORING, LIKE STOP IT. AND YOU, THE REST OF YOU, CALL YOURSELF GODS? MORE LIKE STUPID JOCKS!" "AND THE WORST OF IT IS THAT STUPID MOUNTAIN BECAUSE IT'S SO STUPID! IT'S RUINING MY VIEW, AND IT'S DUMB! " She rose the Heart of Stone high into the air above her, and screamed. Fashion Advice to terraform the Godmountain, using the faith of the Spheruleans channelled through my Heart of Stone: 1d20+1+5 11 The spell was too powerful, the energy shot into her, into the ground, turning it into glass. It turned clouds into snowflakes that fell down upon her, but she wouldn't let up. Couldn't. This was too important. The energy was killing her, and briefly she recalled that twilight moment once again where the Towerlord had killed her, killed everyone. She remembered the face she had seen in the haze and the blood. That man. That pose. "uhm. Guys, I mean ghosts? I need some help here. Like, now would be good. I'm sure you can hear me, you better be able to hear me! I'm doing you all a favour you know!" "I'm gonna blast that stupid god mountain to bits and build the most rockingest stage of stone you ever saw! I just need more power!" "POWER!" "IT'S GONNA BE AWESOME!"
|
|
#
¿
Feb 18, 2015 02:08
|
|
|
Items: The Queen in Amber Her power stabilized for now (although she could always use more power, if any ghosts where lingering), she felt enough in control of herself to grant a moments attention to other matters. Her Heart of Stone clutched in one hand, melding the landscape like so much clay, she navigated the Arcanomatrix device with her other hand. Apparently ambidextrous when it came to writing messages. It was a summons for Circlord, her chief acolyte, or at least one of his minions. She was handling the the terraforming well, but would need assistance with the finer details. She also had a quest for him. For from her mountain top, she had seen the blight of bees that covered the land, something that probably needed to be dealt with. Maybe. Whatever. Whatever posted posted:### @ sph3r3 gu7 CiRcL0RD – I got dis thing 4 bees, can u pick it up plz, give it 2 the O kthx. ### If anyone did arrive from the Spheruleans, she would also tell them what she wanted done with the stones loosened from the Godmountain, so as to build the perfect acoustic space of her dreams.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 18, 2015 04:22
|
|
|
 Name: Whatever Class: Goddess of Secrets dog kisser posted:
Yeah. Yeah, a stage. Awesome. Wicked awesome. Gonna have so many concerts, you cant even believe it. It was all she could think about, standing on Witch Mountain, ionized air crackling around her. Surrounded by a flock of her faithful, it was hard not to go mad with power. Yet something spoke to her in her mind. She couldn't stay, not really, and these Spheruleans needed her for one last thing. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah. You guys, you are always in trouble right, cant get along? Well I’ve shown you the only thing that matters is style, but styles are always changing. You gotta keep up with the times, but how will you do that if your always fighting? It's simple really, it's so obvious even animals do it.” Her voice had a fluidity to it, a purpose. Something that wasn't usually there when she spoke, but perhaps she just thought this was important? “So, you can't agree, but you have this stage, right? So you group up into teams that can agree on something, and all the teams spend a year practising and at the end of the year you meet up on that Stage, and you perform, just perform, the best music of your hearts. Then every group votes on it, and the winner wins.” "Simple as that." “Oh and you can't vote for yourselves because that would be lame." “If you do this, you will keep up with the times, you will have the latest fashions and your tunes will be righteous.” She looks at them. “And I know you'll know what the best songs will be, because I'll be watching.” She waves her Arcanomatrix device in the air above them. “I'll always be watching.” Instructing the Spheruleans to begin the Annual International Music Competition: The Music of the Spheres!
|
|
#
¿
Feb 20, 2015 21:43
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: The Heart of Stone, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber The time she spent in the land of the Spheruleans, atop Witch Mountain seem almost a blur, so distant is was to her new realm. At least this time it wasn't the sudden rush of a portal that took her away, more like a fading out, and then fading back in again. A dream, had it all been a dream? She checks her Arcanomatrix device and permits herself a smile. No, perhaps it hadn't been a dream. Ah, but where was she now? More fighting, figures. They always wanted to fight. How old was the Towerlord anyway? They should call him the Testostelord instead, she figured, if he kept this macho attitude up. Shrug. Ah, but there where more people here. Or at least people-ish things. What where they like? Where they cool? Where did they fit in? Where they a threat? So many questions. She casually strode up to the opposing team and started chatting, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Chatting up the enemy team, looking for enemy talents and weaknesses.: 1d20+5 6 (critfail)
|
|
#
¿
Feb 20, 2015 22:16
|
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 Class: Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: The Heart of Stone, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber, Mark of Aven Taken quiet aback, whatever stumbled to the audience stands and completely ignored the perfectly good seats that had been set out for them. She was fidgeting and looking at her shoes, for all the world seeming exasperated, as if current events where the first thing that had phased her in the entire competition thus far. Dying was nothing compared to the average life of a teenager. Instead, perhaps to gain some measure of composure back, or perhaps out of old habit, Whatever found one of the pillars that lined the warehouse and made her way up them, finding an appropriate ledge from whence to watch the coming spectacle. From here she could get a good look at things, perhaps even help out somehow. Shout some encouragement or check her messages in private, in case...none of your business that's what. Who knows? She might even find something interesting up there. Loitering to find a good place to view the spectacle, something to help out our team or perhaps something hidden?: 1d20+5 14
|
|
#
¿
Feb 23, 2015 10:08
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ Apr 29, 2024 05:11 |
|
|
Teenager Name: Whatever Health: 33 Class: Armour: 16 (with +1 from Breastplate) Accuracy: +1 Skills: Loitering, Gossip, Blogging Abilities: Emomancy, Fashion Advice, Indifference Talent: Dramabomb (recharged!) Items: The Heart of Stone, Fine Spooky Breastplate, The Queen in Amber, Mark of Aven After getting her bearings, Whatever had taken to loitering near the enemy team. It was not like she had planned it, she was just wandering around aimlessly, checking her Arcanomatrix device and adjusting her headset. That she could hear every word they said was just a coincidence, surely. Then the fight started. It was Brutal, disappointing. Everyone was always fighting. She winced as Nicodemus took an electrifying blow to the spine. She didn't like that one bit. She spent minutes on making him that robe, and now it was scuffed! These newcomers obviously didn't appreciate fashion! Annoyed, Whatever absconded up one of the warehouse pillars and sat herself on a ledge, high above the developing battlefield. ... As whatever hid in the rafters, watching the spectacle below from her perch, she thought of what had occurred so far, and what was happening now. That thin guy, Ticker, had said that he had sat next to Void. But shouldn't that mean they where on the same team? If so, why wasn't he here? Was he dead, or had he simply left? Ticker would know. Perhaps the others as well but they where all fighting now, or ignoring her. Everybody was always fighting and ignoring her. Well. Well. No more. She'd give them something they couldn't ignore, so they would stop this pointless bickering! Maybe then she'd get some attention. She closed her eyes and opened her mind to the emosphere, that strange sight beyond sight of the emomancer. There where a lot of people here, a lot of conflict. She could feel pride, a will to impress from somewhere within the ring. Ticker, she supposed. Despair. Incredible despair... That must be one of the twins. She had the same aura about her as Chauncey at dinner. Strange. What was that they had said? She had heard it as she wandered amongst them before, but didn't reflect on in until now. The culling? Must have been the race. There was something else, hope mixed with fear. Greed. It seems they were not all there willingly? Well now! That was more than enough information to go on. A plan was forming in her mind. Most of them where here because some syndicate had forced them to compete, but if that was the case then the culling should have set them free, since their Tower would also have destroyed everything outside. They must not know about it. They must still be fighting a meaningless fight for a pointless cause. One that wasn't even their own. Oh they probably had some mantra they kept telling themselves like 'I’m doing this for my family' or even “i'll show them all how strong I really am!” but it was all a hoax. Emomancy: 1d20+1+1+1 = 18 She opened her eyes again and started manipulating the arcanomatrix device. Soon enough the little light in the corner of it turned on and projected a moving image into the air above the fighters far below her. It was her old recording of the events at the base of the tower after their own race. But something was different this time. It was fueled by despair. She had taken care to only siphon it from the audience, from the desperate girl, from Chauncey. From anyone that looked to her experienced eyes as a source of sadness, she took it all and gave it shape. It was the worst of things, antipathy, anguish and agony. It was a pseudomorph of badness. Then she twisted and killed it. All the despair vanished, turning at once to relief. It was this that she filled her projection with. Interlaced in every frame was the hopes of everyone present. The images of destruction had settled, showing a tranquil, if empty, plain. The message was clear; They where free. What had happened in her world had happened in theirs. The Syndicate was gone. No longer would they have to be slaves. No longer would they have to fight. They could all go home. Whatever smirked to herself as she dangled her legs high above the battlefield. That was some good emomancy. She might even have to blog about this. Hoping to use Emomancy not to damage anyone, but to give the enemy team a chance of reflection on their current predicament.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 24, 2015 19:17
|
|