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 Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2016 2:11 am
gaia_nitemareleft gaia_kittenstar gaia_nitemareright
everything to do with this arc is going here, for the sake of organisation.
these plots and rps have been approved by staff
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 4:45 pm
The magical dream rock. Asteroid 85585 is nearby and in passing blesses you with a dream from a lifetime ago.
Please note, dreams granted by the Asteroid are very vague, however what details of the dream you decide to focus on / how your character interprets it is up to you~ Felyn It had taken a little over a week to reach Mars and though it hadn’t been Eir’s longest voyage (not by far), but it had been one of the most difficult.
Sylvi was four years old and still very new to travelling, especially on the starships that rode the cosmos as if it was the ocean's waves. Space sickness was much harder to overcome than sickness of the sea and Sylvi had reacted badly to it this time. The bright eyed girl had spent most of the journey either asleep or cuddling up to her mother, tearful from discomfort. Her appetite which was usually very healthy dissolved as time went on. Eir herself had dark circles under her eyes, unable to rest when her child was so unwell.
However, as soon as they reached the port Sylvi had gotten some of her colour back, from excitement alone if nothing else. Her dark complexion was still slightly pale and Eir knew she would have to keep an eye on her.
It was Mjolnir that carried the young girl, a form Eir rarely took on her homeworld, but one she tried to slip into whenever she was off planet. She wanted to stretch her muscles and make sure she still knew how to power up - Sylvi, who Eir often compared to a bag of potato’s these days, was as light as a feather in this form and that alone took her by surprise. She knew the feeling and weight of her child and the strange shift felt very unnatural to her.
The girl had her arms wrapped around her mother's neck and was wearing Mjolnirs winged headdress like a crown on top of her thick untamed curls. The brunette scanned the area quickly and then bounced the child to get her attention when she caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance.
“Sylvi, look. Who’s that?” She asked in a tone that sounded unnaturally soft to anyone who knew the King, her free hand raised to point towards the man who was approaching them. The Kings face stroked the side of her daughters affectionately as her pointed finger turned into a wave. “Wave, say; Hai Fadr.” She whispered, nuzzling the girl's cheek, causing her to laugh softly.
Sylvi raised her hand to her mouth and hid her face in her mother's neck, she was always so shy when they first arrived, but it seemed to melt away as soon as Rayyan picked her up. Maybe she found the first few seconds of the meeting strange? Eir knew they did not see each other as often as they should, as often as she would like. But give a few moments and Eir knew it would be like they never parted.
It was always like that.
She stroked the girl's hair and kissed the side of her face before reaching out to the man who was now just meters away from them. “Rayyan.” Her voice shook as she tried to transition back to her normal tone.
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 5:47 pm
The magical dream rock. Asteroid 85585 is nearby and in passing blesses you with a dream from a lifetime ago.
Please note, dreams granted by the Asteroid are very vague, however what details of the dream you decide to focus on / how your character interprets it is up to you~ Kolina The Iron Mountains were grey and cold a land of hard earth and rock. What trees grew where skeletal and charred from near constant lightning strikes. A storm was breaking above head; the air thick with static as black clouds consumed the sky, stealing away all light besides the occasional flash of electricity. The rain was icy and the rumble of thunder echoed around Hammer's Fall; the Forge’s sacred place of execution.
It might have been strange to think the asteroid had laws, after all; reading, thievery, slavery and human sacrifice were so rooted in the culture it was hard for many to see beyond the brutality of the people. However there were laws and when broken the punishments were merciless. Eir herself was not in a position to forgive even if she wanted to, not when she had so many enemies, not when any sign of weakness could mean the end of her and by extension her daughter.
The Iron Mountains and the Goldshore has been at war for all recorded history. Even though a fragile alliance had lasted whilst the Princess Hilga remained by Eir’s side as wife and advisor, when she left to become a Knight the peace crumbled. Jarl SeaWielder did not believe that his sister would turn her back on their Gods and serve a foreign Princess - he believed that Eir had killed her, like she had killed her other wife, Sigi.
It was a reason enough to make the people of the Goldshore rise up and try to invade and after many battles and countless deaths here they were. With Jarl SeaWielder kneeling at her feet, the man who had put three arrows into the heart of the hero Saga. His golden locks flowed past his shoulders and his once handsome face was bruised and broken, the word ‘traitor’ engraved into his forehead in the old tongue.
The Ulfhednar had got to him before she did; they had tortured him and brought him to their King - this was her verdict, this was the punishment she saw fit for his crimes. Whoever condemned the man should swing the hammer; the only mercy she gave was the fact she didn't give him wings as Martha had suggested. Besides the blunet Sylvi stood, twelve years of age, holding onto the witches robes for whatever comfort it might offer her.
The king was dressed in her armour, the pelt of a wolf draped over her head and shoulders, in her hand was a large hammer with a long handle which made it appear more staff like, it was ceremonial and far more decorative than the usual battle hammer. She head loomed above the fallen Jarl as she lined the weapon up with the man's skull. Eir’s face remained stoic, despite the fact she was internally pleading for Hilga’s forgiveness whenever she was in the cosmos. The weapon raised above her head there was a pause, broken only by the rumble of thunder above head.
The hammer fell, and the rocks were awash with crimson.
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Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2016 2:43 pm
The magical dream rock. Asteroid 85585 is nearby and in passing blesses you with a dream from a lifetime ago.
Please note, dreams granted by the Asteroid are very vague, however what details of the dream you decide to focus on / how your character interprets it is up to you~ Felyn Eir pulled her pendant over her head and held it carefully in her palm. Silver eyes ran over it for a moment and she then passed it to the dark haired man that sat by her side. “I guess you could say my mother knew Saga better than most, better than anyone on Mjolnir at least.” The brunette explained; she did not know much about Saga on a personal level and though she had heard stories, none gave her a real insight into who she was. She wondered sometimes, after all she would have been the woman to raise her if she had not...
Eir rested her chin on her palm in a very casual manner, her gaze drifting to their daughter who was playing in the field. “She always said she was strong, loyal, brave… all the things you would expect her to say. However she also said that Saga was very lonely, that after the Great War was over she never fully recovered.” She explained, it was common knowledge that Saga carried numerous physical scars but the emotional damage was rarely mentioned.
“She loved someone and she lost them - I don’t know how, he might have died or he might have left. In the end that pendant was all that remained of her solider from another world.” She shrugged, a small smile appeared on her face and then disappeared almost as quickly as it arose, her expression becoming more serious. “My mother said that Saga believed it would take her home.” Eir nudged the man playfully, leaning in closer to his ear like she was about to share a secret for his ears alone.
“In the end Saga renounced our gods, rejected her invitation to The Great Hall beyond, so she could wait for him.” It was why Martha hated her so much; why so many still saw Saga as a traitor king. “I wonder if she found him. I hope she did, I know what it is like to live apart from someone you love. What it is like to live everyday hoping to get a glimpse of them again." She trailed off a little, running her hand through her bangs and trying her best to shake the thoughts of Floki from her mind.
"Either way, my mother wanted me to have this. And when I am gone, I want you to give it to Sylvi - My mother believed it has protective powers, she believed that in the end it will guide us all to the place we are meant to be. In the end it will guide us home.” She wrapped the knights fingers around it and smiled; deep down she believed the same.
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Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2016 5:30 pm
With a Bang - Kam and Ofelia Meeting Felyn Once upon a time she used to be a lady... she was pretty sure.
A true upper class madam who wore long ball gowns that glimmered in the spotlights; the kind of who used to play the violin to packed audiences in grand theatre halls where the seats were made from velvet and the air was thick with the scent of perfume and dust. She was the kind of girl who carried herself with a grace that would have people stopping in their tracks, turning their heads to look at her. At least, she was pretty sure she used to be like that - Running through the streets of downtown DC with a bunch of thugs chasing after her made it hard for her to recall such days. Whoever that girl was, she was a new breed of monster now.
Ofelia had been on her way to meet Dusty for a catch up. Once or twice a week she would go back to her old haunting grounds with coffee and some food - talk to the people who had not caught a break like she had, make sure they were doing okay. Dusty was a veteran with some pretty hardy health issues; the guy looked older than he was, stunk like a wet dog and talked like a sailor. Never-the-less when Ofelia was homeless he took her under his wing, showed her the safe places to sleep and told her who to stay away from. The two were close, to this day they were close.
When she came across three grown men kicking the crap out of her friend, she acted without even thinking. Grabbing the lid of a trashcan she hit the first guy round the back of the head with enough force to knock him out cold, a lucky hit. As he fell to the floor his friends stopped and watched on dumbfounded - she threw the hot paper coffee cups at them, sending hot liquid splashing on their skin and clothes. As they were screaming there was just enough time for her to drag Dusty to his feet and set them both running. "Move it old man!" She shoved him, looking over her shoulder to gage the distance between them and their pursuers.
The old timer was hurt - she knew she had to lure them away from him. "Forgive me." She shoved the man down an alleyway as they ran passed. The old man hit the floor with a thud and watched as their two attackers chased after the girl. Dusty could only watch them disappear, holding his ribs as silence came over the street. "Ofelia.." He mumbled to himself, pushing his back up against the alley wall to catch his breathe. Everyone's luck was bound to run out sometime.
Her heel caught in a drain, a loud cracking could be heard as she cursed and started to limp. She tried to skid over the hood of a parked car but could feel something catch her hair as she tried to land on the other side. They were closer than she thought as she force in which she was slammed against the hood was enough to set the alarm off. God damn it. She hissed, she had one guy holding onto her hair, the other grabbing her feet as she kicked.
Ofelia managed to catch his face with her boot to push him back, succumbing to desperation she did not care what cheap blows it took to get them off of her.. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, but she did not scream, just gritted her teeth out of a mixture of fear and anger. She had been beaten up pretty badly on the streets before, left bleeding in alleyways - she thought all that had been put behind her. Not knowing if people had weapons, not knowing what their intentions were.
She felt a fist collide with her face, another cracking sound could be heard as the taste of blood soon filled her mouth. Not knowing if her nose was broken or the old injury had been reopened, she slid down the front of the car and hit the floor. Air left her lungs as she held her blooded face; as soon as she felt a hand touch her shoulder she pulled the arm down and bit it as hard as she could. She then pulled the guy down to the floor with her. God damn it if she was not going to maul one of these ******** before she was through! So she did just that, jumped on top of the guy and started to punch him in the face repeatedly like a feral animal.
That was when she felt something hit the back of her head, she was not sure what it was but it felt hard and cold. Her vision went white for a second and a buzzing sound rang in her ears as she hit the floor lame, her sight was shaking as where her arms as she tried to pull herself up. <******** you." Her words were like venom as she felt herself get dragged onto her feet. She hit the hood of the car once again, a hand around her neck. She grabbed hold of the guys wrist, the energy leaving her arms.
“Calm down Princess, if you wanted to take on the old timers debts so badly you should have just asked.” It was then that he dropped the metal bar to the floor.
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Unlike Ophelia, Kamboja had no assumptions that he had ever been anything other than a brute. A wild, angry brute who had never been very fond of a people picking on the underdog.
It was the sound of the car alarm that had drawn him at first, though as he got closer and closer to the scene of the action, his chest grew heavy. He could hear what was going on - at least two men, it seemed, and a girl spitting angry, wild curses at them. When he round the corner and let his dark eyes finally take in the scene - part of him was relieved. These were just normal assholes, picking on a normal girl, no otherworldly magic to contend with or morals to question.
The part of him that wasn’t relieved, however, was beginning to get really, really angry. He might not have been able to handle Gehenna’s life or the issue he had brought to tangle up in it, but Kamboja Vaiphei was still not going to let these punks kill some girl in cold blood. Not on his streets, not in his stomping ground.
“What the ******** is going on here?”
He had closed the space between him and the fight in a few easy strides of his long, strong legs. Though his muscle mass was a little wasted from his recent misfortunes, as he would call it, he was still a thick man with bulging arms and broad shoulders. There was a strength in him born not just of working out, but of really fighting, and the eerie gleam in his dark eyes was the look of a man that had already seen more death and blood than anyone his age should have ever been burdened with. He had already killed - and he felt no guilt for it.
One hand reached out and grabbed the man holding her by the back of the neck, dragging him off and using the inertia to send him tumbling toward a few tall, metallic garbage bins. The clutter of the impact was loud, but he turned to look back at the man’s partner instead, obviously unconcerned with letting his guard down.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to crawl back into whatever hole you ******** came from. Got it?”
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Ofelia really doubted they would actually kill her, kick the crap out of her maybe, but these guys were only street thugs - not hardened criminals. That was not to say civilians did not kill but even bad civilians had more morals than your average agent of chaos. Besides, she would have powered up and killed them before it got that far. She was not opposed to using her magic for self defence, be her opponents powered or not.
Her head was still ringing when she heard a voice; so much so she could not really work out what was being said. Blurred vision tried to find its source, was that a bear? Half dazed and slipping in and out of consciousness she would have believed it. The figure did look very bear-like. All she knew for sure was that she slipped down the hood of the car and landed on her knees, her palms on the ground and supporting her body the best she could. They had dropped her, probably to focus on their animal problem.
Ofelia was pretty sure she has some kind of concision and was yet to discover that her nose was bleeding. Golden eyes raised once more to examine the creature more carefully - only then realising it was a man who was approaching, one of the biggest men she had ever seen. Oh s**t, she hoped that one was at least friendly. She smiled to herself, a jolt of pain rushing through her head and making her squint.
The clash of her trash cans brought her back to reality, the dreariness she felt turning off all at once like a light switch had just been flipped. It was a sobering moment. Her eyes darted to the side to see her attacker make impact with the metal cylinders, surprised that a 'normal' person was able to do that. Heck, she was sure she would have struggled to do that as Mjolnir! She remained still on her knees, eyes drifting to look at the floor, pretending she was invisible as the man spoke once more. This time she heard every syllable of what he was saying.
Smartly, the man who remained standing gave up, clearly having had enough and not possessing any kind of death wish. He picked up his friend from the side of the street before they both ran into the night. They would be back though, she knew they were not done with Dusty. The old man was hooked on drugs and without a penny to his name, every dealer this side of Destiny City probably had it in for him. She could not protect him against them all nor would he accept any other help from her.
Running the back of her hand under her nose the brunette wiped the blood from her lip, the back of her head throbbing and the sting in her ribs indicating she was already starting to bruise. She placed her hand on the hood of the car once more, letting it aid her in standing as the alarm continues to ring out into the darkness. Her legs were shaky but she knew from experience that she would be fine after the shock wore off. She was not used to being blindsided, but her body was hurting more than her pride right now.
"T-thank you." She bowed her head, her eyes avoiding his. She did not really know what to say, more so wanted to scoot away before he asked for something in return. Rule number one on the streets was never go alone, rule number two was that everybody was out for themselves. Nobody did anything unless they wanted something in return - it was how the world worked.
The brunette turned to walk away with a limb in her step. The heel was half hanging off of her boot.
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Well, that was the oddest thank you he had probably ever received. He watched her begin to walk away and told himself it didn’t matter - he didn’t need a thank you and if she wasn’t concerned enough to stop and talk to him, he wasn’t required to go to any greater lengths to make sure she was alright.
He didn’t have to.
A long, annoyed sigh escaped his mouth and he found himself walking forward to stand in her path regardless, putting a hand on her shoulder and trying to coax her to look at him without being threatening. He had known what it was like to live without a home and if her current condition was any indication, she was knee-deep in fighting territorial battles with other street urchins.
“You need some medical attention, you know. Living out here makes you higher risk for infections when you have so many open wounds.” There was a frown on his lips as his eyes skated from the bloodied lip to the bit of red matting in the hair at the side of her head. He himself had been lucky that whenever he was really at risk of dying, someone had always been there to cart him to the hospital after. He was paying it forward, kind of, since she had just stumbled across his path in need of help. It was a small step in the direction of being an honorable person, right?
“I’m not gonna make you come with me but I want you to know you’re at no risk from me. I have a brother out here somewhere that thinks he’s too good for my help,” it wasn’t the whole truth, but he looked away as if he still expected Khetal to show up with a laugh at any moment, “so let me try to help you, at least, so long as you don’t mind putting up with my shitty attempts at small talk.”
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Golden eyes remained solumley on the ground as he moved to stand in front of her, stopping her in her tracks like they were magnets separated by an invisible field. Then her gaze snapped on his hand, her fingers twitching in response as her body tensed uncomfortably. She was unsure about this man, unsure about the situation and she remained untrusting despite all his attempts to plead his harmlessness. She had never been fond of people touching her without invitation, especially strangers. A hand was rarely gentle.
“These aren’t my streets any more stranger, I just pass through them every so often.” She had left this life behind but could not help returning every once in awhile. Maybe it was her self destructive nature, maybe it was survivor's guilt - maybe it was because amongst the nobodies she finally found herself.
Finally, the brunette looked upwards to get a good look at the man who had rode in like a knight in shining armour. He was an impressively large man with caramel skin and long hair, intimidating in stature but showing no hostility. She wrinkled her nose at his suggestion, she hated hospitals. “Doctors are pricey and ask too many questions; though if you are offering a first aid kit and a solid drink I can put up with small talk.” She would survive, she had been through worse, but was not dumb enough to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Afterall it was the kindness of a stranger who had got her off the streets in the first place.
“Are you sure you want to do that? I could be anyone, you know.” He had no idea what caused the confrontation he had just witnessed; she could have been a junkie, a thief, both. She tried to rationalise it in her own mind - Maybe the fact his brother was out here somewhere had resulted in some kind of hero complex, sparkled some need in him to aid people who were down on their luck, cast aside, forgotten. It was the kind of mentality people would take advantage of.
She squinted and held her head as another wave of pain sent a shock up her spine, her temples throbbing from impact.
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The dreadhead nodded along with her as she admitted what he knew to be true - doctors and hospitals weren’t really a good use of time. However, for him, it was because he healed too quickly and it raised too many eyebrows. In a town like this one, where he could trust no one to be who they said they were unless he saw it with his own eyes, it wasn’t good to raise eyebrows. He could appreciate not wanting to waste unnecessary money, too.
“I’ve stitched my own mistakes up plenty of times, you’re in good hands.” The hand on her shoulder left as she seemed to ease back her bite a little, leaving Kam content that she would at least hear him out. Both hands raised in front of him to draw emphasis to them. “As long as you don’t mind whiskey.”
He hadn’t touched the stuff since he’d returned from Mars - not because he had been specifically told not to but because it seemed like something connected with what he was meant to forget. Yet he still had all of his private stores, locked up in the liquor cabinet where they had always been kept so proudly. At least someone might get a good night out of it. She’d probably earned it, besides, with how much she seemed to be in pain - especially once that hand raise up and held her head tenderly.
“Look, you can’t be worse than people I already know, alright? So why don’t you just come back with me to my apartment and let me at least patch you up.” The hands he was holding out turned palm up, so that he could splay his fingers with the question. It was an attempt to look harmless, but in case that didn’t work: “You can hold my taser the whole time if it will make you feel better.”
The dark man jerked his head to their left.
“I live just up the hill here.”
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Ofelia could have protested that; she was the worst kind of person.
Though the brunette did not think that out of self loathing but honest admission, she had sinned and she planned to keep on sinning, she had hurt people and planned to keep hurting them. She was thunder, fire and hatred’ fueled by chaos with an unhealthy obsession for the light. Honey coloured eyes looked up at the man as he held his hands out towards her, the look on her face saying she was very skeptical of his words. He was strange and she could not decide if his kindness was a facade, she remained distrusting, for now. Everybody had an angle, everybody wore a mask.
“I don’t need it.” She told him with confidence. If it came down to it, injured or not, she would fight him. She did not really fancy her chances with his size but if it came down to it she would power up to preserve her life. She had lost her identity once, starting again as nothing did not scare her.
She shook her head out of instinct but her face said she regretted the decision instantly, her nose wrinkled and her jaw clenched as painful pulses echoed through her skull. She was very rapidly coming to terms with the fact that the incident could have ended very badly if it was not for the man in front of her. Internally she scolded herself; she was stupid for acting so rashly, for getting herself into such unnecessary danger.
She cursed under her breath; a few weeks ago she would have not reached out to help someone in need unless it was beneficial to her. Now her perspective had been changed and she wanted nothing more than to drop this heart she had suddenly gained.
She looked at the hill ahead of them and started walking without hesitation. “You must know some characters if that is the case. What lead you down the rabbit hole into trouble? Everyone who ends up cleaning up their own wounds and fighting on the streets was either chasing or running away from something - right?” From her experience anyway; be it abuse, addiction or fear. Everyone had a vice and a story to tell.
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Not that he ever would have admitted it, but a real relief swept through Kam as he watched the damaged woman before him turn and start heading in the direction he had indicated. She was proud, he could tell, it was written clearly in the way she acted without even bothering to answer him. He couldn’t fault it. He’d done a lot of foolish things for pride, too.
“The first time, I was running away. The second time I was chasing.”
It was as much of an answer as she was going to get in that regard. The incidents that had attributed to his downward spiral still plagued his life and, honestly, still had him fighting that pulling tide. He wasn’t even sure he would make it out alive at this point but he could at least hope to help a few other people on the way.
“Which, for you?”
As the lumbering man fell into step at her side, careful not to go too quickly given their difference in height and her overall condition, he reached into his pocket and plucked free a pack of smokes. One thick thumb and forefinger pulled a cigarette free and then, with a raised brow, held it out toward her while they walked. He wasn’t sure about her, but he always like a smoke after a good fight. Though, as he watched her, he became more concerned.
“Look, if you pass out I’m probably going to carry you. So don’t punch me when you wake up.”
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“I don’t even remember anymore.” She admitted with a shrug and a small smirk.
Ofelia was sure that she was stuck in a coma induced nightmare and the the last year of her life was nothing more than her brains way of punishing her. That current events were nothing more than a manifestation of her guilt, for her sins, for her shortcomings. Even now, whilst she was clawing herself out of a bleak situation she felt like she was floating, that whatever support structure she had found was just going to be taken from under her. It might have sounded pessimistic but it is what experience had taught her.
Everything good has a beginning, and everything good has an end.
The brunette looked over at the man's cigarettes and she shook her head - she really needed to stop doing that. With a sigh she stopped in her tracks and then looked at the man once more, she felt drowsy, like the few steps she had taken had exhausted her. Ofelia did not know why she laughed; was she really that defeated? “I am heavier than I look.” She joked, her eyes drifting back to his blurry frame.
Nausea suddenly overcame her and she felt like she was going to vomit violently, one foot in front of another, her knees shaking as she stumbled in an attempt to keep her balance. When vertigo made her lose her footing all she could do was reach out to grab his arm to break her fall. She grabbed at him aimlessly and then there was nothing but black.
They had got her good this time.
Fin.
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Posted: Tue Jun 07, 2016 2:34 am
Something is wrong in Mirrorspace! Feel free to react to this prompt if you wish to do so~ All Dark Mirror Senshi Once upon a time there was a smol wraith.
The strange, almost aquatic looking creature swam through the void of Mirrorspace idolly. After all there was not much for a wraith to do when unsummoned besides wander and wait. That was until a rather odd sensation ran through its smol frame. What was that? It felt good.
Its tendrils twitched as it tried to pinpoint the location of the strange ripple, then another one! What a delight! The smol wraith was besides itself with excitement and moved with purpose towards the source; the sensations became stronger and stronger until they became so strong that it let out a high pitched screech. It was almost painful in how wonderful it felt.
Then it found it, this strange object that was causing such a stir. It was beautiful, it was glowing, it belonged to smol. The creature reached out and wrapped its tendrils around the object, pulling it close into an embrace like it was the most precious of things. The creature cooed as the light consumed its smol body, washing over it like a soothing tide.
And smol slept, basking in its light, basking in its energy.
Then another wave pulsed through mirrorspace, this time it was strong enough to upset the other wraiths that lingered. They twitched and groaned at the disturbance before swiftly evacuating the area in which smol slept. They did not like the feeling, it stunk of decay and anger, of death and doom.
Did you feel that.
Asked the Dark Mirror Senshi.
Something is upsetting the wriaths.
Something is wrong in Mirrorspace.
Did you feel like that?
Something is wrong in Mirrorspace.
Dark Mirror senshi might experience strange sensations whilst in Mirror Space; some feel like they are being watched, some feel like the wraiths are twitchier than usual, some can hear the distant sound of thunder and some can taste ash in the air. In random pulses your stomach might turn, a cold shiver down your spine. Though smol is hidden away somewhere in the abyss, and though nobody knows the source of these strange occurrences, the sensus is out.
Something is wrong in Mirrorspace.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 11:54 am
gaia_nitemareleft gaia_kittenstar gaia_nitemareright Into the Light, Hver and Mjolnir Mjolnir Gains Stardust Ribbons (items to be handed out to others): - Not rechargable (one-time use only) - Holds 30-45 minutes of charge - Activated when worn by concentrating on the item - After 5 minutes, minor cuts/scrapes/bruises are healed, sprains are numbed, blood flow stops from moderate cuts - After 30-45 minutes, moderate cuts/sprains are healed - After use, ribbons become just pretty trinkets and cannot be used again.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 11:54 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 11:54 am
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 10:17 am
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Posted: Sat Sep 03, 2016 12:24 pm
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Posted: Fri Dec 23, 2016 2:34 am
Clear Memory Erin Dreadroot of the Winterlands, The Lady of the Iron Mountains, Wood Witch and Widow to the fallen King Saga. She was known by many names; to to Eir she was only known by one, mother. Eir and her twin brother, Floki, were born only hours after the execution of the old King and the Queen had pleaded for her daughter's life. Mjolnir was still recovering from the damage that was inflicted on it by Odiin and Saga during their power struggle, seeing another royal set of twins born into the world chilled the elders to the core. They wanted blood, a promise that history was not destined to repeat itself. Drown her. Feed her to the Fenrisian Wolves. Throw her in the fire. End the bloodshed before it had time to begin again. Eir was never sure just how her mother convinced them to spare her, mercy was a rare trait in the old ones; there had to be more to the story. Maybe the threat of starting a war with the Winterlands was a too big of a risk to take. Maybe Erin swore icy vengeance and gave them a taste of her legendary power. Put a curse on anyone who caused harm to her child - it would be a long time until she understood why they feared her mother so much. So, Floki and Eir came to be apart of this world and Erin loved them with all of her being. Last month the thing she feared more than anything else came to be, a prophecy of doom, a mark for death on her eldest child - her daughter, Eir. Floki had found himself come in contact with a rogue Berserkir; creatures that were usually kept under lock and key, she did not know how it escaped - but that was not the point. The encounter almost cost him his life, by some miracle the creature calmed, but it was not her son’s words that the monster obeyed, it was the pleas of her daughter. Throwing herself over her younger brother the creature only stopped its assault when its actions would have harmed Eir too. It was all the proof she needed, the naming ceremony would only reveal what she now knew, it would be Eir who would awaken as the Guardian - not her son, Floki. It was a realisation that caused her physical pain, something she had always feared but deemed too terrible to come true. How could this happen again? So, Erin had a choice before her, risk the chance of the the clan murdering Eir on awakening to prevent another war or send her far away in the hopes that being off planet when she came of age would prevent her Awakening. Though the chances were slim it was all Erin could hope for. There was no right answer, nothing she could do to change what fate had inflicted. Another war might follow, but she would not like Eir die, she would not survive the loss of her. She was Saga, in her eyes, in her face, in her smile and mannerisms, in the way she held her shield and the way she moved. Eir herself was not too happy with her mother decision to say the very least. She thought her mother a filthy, treacherous, manipulative whore who had betrayed not only her trust but the future King himself. Eir was none the wiser that it was her who would awaken and as such still thought her brother was the rightful King, as did the entire clan. She had sworn to protect him, be the anvil to his hammer, the sword to his shield - his guardian, servant and closest ally. Her mother was suggesting she break that vow, the bond of blood that gave her reason and meaning. It all suddenly made sense, her brother's sudden hunting invitation, her mother insisting that she stay behind. Erin wanted to separate them so she could pull the wool over her sons eyes and fill his head with her lies. What was she planning to tell him? Eir wondered. That she had fallen off the mountain and her remains were devoured by wild beasts? That she had succumbed to a sudden illness and her body burned to prevent the spread of plague? How would she explain to her son that his twin was gone? Was she really going to admit to sending her away - No, Floki would find her, she knew he would. Eir might have been thirteen years of age but was alarmingly strong for a child. Alas, despite her fighting spirit she was unable to fight off the two grown men who were holding her still. Anger and rage were feelings that consumed her, making her blood boil within her veins. Gone were her furs and leathers, the armour that she wore and the braids that symbolised her noble birth. The robe she had been forced into was long and flowing and her hair was loose and bothersome. She was unrecognisable, that was the point. You look just like Saga, her mother reminisced, but she was not Saga, she was Eir and not even related to Saga by blood - She was just her step-mother. How could she look like her? It did not matter, despite her love for her mother she was convinced that the loss of her husband had weakened her mind. Erin often pointed out the similarities between them, talked as if she was talking to a spirit much older than her own, so love sick for her mate that she was projecting on her own child. Using Eir to replace the woman she had lost, filling the void that was left behind. Or so she thought. Her mother opened a small chest and took out an even small trinket, a pendant that had belonged to the former king. Erin walked over to her daughter and put it around her neck, carefully, as if it was the most delicate treasure in the world. This will guide your spirit home. There was a sadness in her voice that Eir had no patience for - she promptly spat in the woman's face. It was hard to deny the heart in Erin’s eyes, like she had been wounded. At that moment Eir did not care, it would be something she would grow to regret. There was very little Eir feared in this life but being locked in a cage, it was a reality that send cold fear flowing through her veins. She knew where she was going. She was being shipped of to Castor like Saga before her, the warrior King, unable to bare a child to pay her debt, now Eir would be the sacrifice. A life of service to make up for the Guard that had left her post before her watch was done. No. She was not payment for anyone's debt. Her fingers wrapped around the trinket that hung from her neck, pleading to the All Father to save her somehow. To rewrite her destiny. To make it so she could stay here, with her brother, with her clan. To not forsake her - she had worth, she could earn a place in his hall. Pleading to give her a chance to prove herself as a warrior, she would give anything in return, she would do anything. He could take her life whilst she was young, he could curse her with illness, with the loss of her senses, she would even give him her first born if she had to. Anything but this. It was not the God’s that answered her call - it was her brother, soaked in the blood of the mother he had slain. Un-Clear Memory Eir’s voice was much to be desired, not only did she hate singing, but she had never received kind of formal training - no Mjolnorian really did. Song, art, dance - though they had a place in their culture, they were not taken too seriously. For them, the point of song was to pass down stories, to celebrate history and great deeds. Sylvi often told her mother that she sounded like a skinned doe, and she could not argue. As the King mumbled words to her daughter, braiding her hair tight against her scalp, she repeated words that her mother once sung her. “Nå her jeg lå på elvebredden, langt langt hjemmefra, er livet strømme ut av meg, og snart vil jeg bli ferdig.” She learned down and pulled some of the hair through the braid with her teeth, it was so thick, so wild, it really did frustrate her to no end. Why couldn’t she has smooth, silky, straight hair like most Mjolnirian women? Out of all the things to take from her father. Princesses of Mjolnir wore braids for a crown - but Sylvi’s crown was made of curls. Her little girl was growing up, her eyes were bright, her hair was down to her waist, her puppy fat was falling from her month after month and she was beginning to show a slight curve to her figure. Twelve years of age, strong, tall, already on her way to being a fighter. Where had the years gone? She remembered fearing the birth of this creature more than anything else - now she feared losing her above all else. “Eg vippe hodet til siden og tenker på de hjemme, jeg ser elven fløt forbi, som blodet renner fra mitt sår.” Wrapping her arms around her daughter's waist she pulled her to her body and rested her chin on her shoulder. “Her ligger jeg på onsdag, og jeg vil ikke gjøre det hjemme. Jeg biter mitt sverd i min hånd, si farvel til dem jeg elsker” A small kiss to her cheek. Sylvi laughed, rested her hands on her mother's forearms as they both fell back on the bed of furs together. "Når jeg er død, lå meg i en jordhaug. Plasser mine våpen ved min side for reisen til hallen opp høyt. Når jeg er død, lå meg i en jordhaug - Løft en stein for alle å se, runer risset til min hukommelse ". Her daughter joined in with her for the last verse, and if she sounded like a skinned doe - Sylvi sounded just as bad if not worse. Mjolnirian words in a Martian accent was diabolical. She was going to Mars to see her father again, and Eir hated it every time she left - She was selfish and wanted to keep her here all the time, be with her all the time. But she wanted to go, and she had no right to tell her to stay. “Never translate that for your father, he might go pale, my darling.” She bopped the end of her nose with her index finger, brushing her thick hair behind her ear. How did such a beautiful little girl come from her? Lumbering, bulky, monstrous woman with a too bigger nose and a too square a jaw - If she did not birth her she would not believe she was hers. “I love you.” She closed her eyes and sighed, knowing that when she opened them, they needed to make the trip off world once more.
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:23 am
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:32 am
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Posted: Sun Jan 01, 2017 6:39 pm
Past Life RP - Meeting Arista Everyone who arrived on Mjolnir did so via the Goldshore; it was the Asteroids second largest country but much like the Winterlands was only populated in a very concentrated area. Beyond the Harbour there was nothing but white sand that stretched to the horizon, Worlds End it was called, a land where nothing could survive and was populated solely by the corpses of adventurers foolish enough to explore it. Legends had it there was a whole other country out there, maybe there was, who knew? The Harbour itself was the Capital of the Goldshore and where Jarl Seawielder reigned as ruler. It was first and foremost a port settlement that accommodated traders from other worlds looking to sell their goods and stock up on supplies, the people of the Goldshore were the friendliest of Mjolnirians and the most welcoming to outsiders by far. On the beach was the market and beyond that were homes that were built into the side of the white cliffs themselves - Overlooking everything at the very top of the cliffside was a large ship that acted as the Hall of the Jarl as well as a Shrine to The God of Light and Passage. Mjolnir’s entire fleet was stationed along the beach and stretched from one side to the other as far as the eye could see. Some ships even acted as anchored shops and some people's homes were the ships themselves, planks were nailed between decks connecting some vessels together, it made crossing from one to the other easier as well as establishing some kind of ordered pathway. Some ships clearly had not moved in generations and their hulls were covered in brightly coloured coral, holding them in the water like roots of a tree. The people here were blonde, with pale eyes and tanned skin. The guards wore roguish armour and carried tridents and fishing nets. However there was one young man who was wandering the marketplace that looked rather odd in comparison. He did not have any facial hair for a start which was almost unheard of, more so he was much less muscular than the other men that could be seen, toned and strong looking but not by any means a powerhouse. Mjolnirans were large and as a whole rather intimidating in stature and height. He had short brown hair and silver eyes, wearing an open shirt and a baggy pair of pants. Around his shoulders was a hooded crimson cape and under thas was a silver necklace that swung as he walked. His face was half hidden under a wide brimmed hat and on his shoulder a Raven sat, so still anyone might have thought it stuffed. He had a strange fruit in his hand and was happily gnawing away at the flesh, silver eyes scanning the port was any interesting arrivals. Traders from other worlds, visitors that came from curiosity, hardly any ventured further inland to the different countries so this was the only place you could observe aliens. He did not blame the visitors for staying put here, the further in you went the more dangerous and barbaric things became until you finally found yourself in the Winterlands, a frozen hell on Earth, home of the Giants. Eir threw the fruit over his shoulder when a woman caught her eye, one that was that much different from the residents with golden skin and blonde curls, however she clearly was not a Mjolnirian - and she certainly did not dress like a Mjolnirian. He came up by her side, leaning down over her shoulder to address her, footsteps as quiet as a ghosts. “Why aren’t you a pretty little thing. I would not walk the port alone, some of the men here have not seen a woman in months.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Goldenshore. It really was an interesting port with more than enough for even the most traveled of people to lose themselves in. Not the mention the beauty of each carefully crafted ship, the sound of the water sloshing against their hulls and piers, and the hustle and bustle that clearly signified the harbour as a very scenic and prosperous place. The energy was amazing and lively, and with people moving about the piers with intent, it was almost impossible to stay out of someone’s way. Blonde hair that fell to her waist in tight, natural curls and vivid blue eyes would almost pin the young woman as a native of the lands except for her more delicate features and three other things things; Her skin was more pale in comparison, she was outrightly gawking at just about everything, and her clothing, a set of loose pants that almost gave the illusion of a skirt and a one shouldered top, both in a soft purple that faded to gold with a pair of gold tones sandals, were obviously not like anything the natives wore. In fact, it was probably one of the more practical outfits she had with her on the trip considering she tended to wear dresses nearly all the time, but she feared the rough nature of the boards at her feet might tear at the delicate fabric. The harbour was something she had never quite seen before, but then again, have been sequestered in her native homelands castle as she was, it wasn’t at all surprising that something of this caliber fascinated her. Arista was, to put it bluntly, a rather pure child and one that was only beginning to explore the universe as she had finally come of age to begin her work. For now though, she was in ‘training’, and that training included visits to other planets and asteroids. “Hm, it almost reminds me of home with how busy it is.” She stopped as a salty breeze caressed her face and hair, dragging at the light fabric of her clothes, and took a deep breath before sighing. “It smells and looks nothing like it though.” It was as she was relishing the salty air that Arista was nearly startled half to death by a voice on her right side. She jumped slightly, a small squeak escaping her as she whirled on her heels to face whomever it was. She was, surprised to find a young man, though quite delighted. Normally she would have been with some sort of escort but she had demanded to view the harbour on her own. So little was known about Mjolnir and Arista was determined to learn more on her own. “I am sorry.” She apologized for her reaction and bowed her head slightly in greeting. “I do suppose I stand out a bit much here, but I couldn’t help but enjoy the scenery. It’s very beautiful.” Tilting her head, she brushed a stray lock out of her face to tuck it carefully behind an ear. “I don’t suppose you are one of these lusty men you speak of?” She teased gently, mirth in her eyes. ((Note: Arista would be 17 going onto her 18th birthday soon. If things happen to get far with them, which at this point Arista would be very new to, and if you’re bothered by her age, we can say she’s 18. LOL)) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The older woman could not help but raise an eyebrow at the girl's response; her face lacking any indication of emotion. She looked strange, she dressed strange and she smelled strange - as far as Eir was concerned this was the strangest girl to be found on the Goldshore and something about that was oddly captivating. The brunette raised a hand to stroke the raven that was perched on her shoulder before dismissing it; the dark feathered creature flew upwards towards the clouds until it was nothing more than a distant dot in the sky and just before it vanished completely Eir began to speak. “This is not the place to stand out; the merchants here are no better than thieves and the can spot a wealthy, glossy eyed target from a mile away. So can the pick pockets. So can the people who would take you for ransom or pleasure.” The girl was not Mjolnirian, which meant she was not protected by any of their laws. The women's staff was wedged firmly between two planks and wood and it was stable enough to allow her to lean against it casually and on doing so her body language instantly relaxed. Even slouched she was much bigger than the girl and silver eyed looked down at her with interest. “If you are going to dress like a queen you need to have the aura of one, that way nobody will dare touch you. Make them think you are more trouble than you are worth and they lose interest and leave you be.” She went on to explain, though she was scolding the girl her tone showed no hint of frustration, instead her tone was rather playful given the fact she was talking about such dark acts and intentions. Eir knew that shady things happened on these ships and it would be cruel to let such a doe eyed girl wonder around unaware. Admittedly she may have been biased, after all the people of the Goldshore and the Iron Mountains were born enemies; and Eir was as much of a Mountaineer as you could get. The girls teasing tone however did not go unnoticed and cause a large grin to engulf the older womans face. It was true that she dressed like a man, it was true she had a masculine figure and a structured face - however it was always nice when her disguise did what it was meant to do. No doubt on this woman's homeworld Eir would have been seen as a rather attractive woman… but maybe a handsome effeminate man? Taking her hat from her head she gave the woman a small bow, holding it to her chest for a moment before placing it on top of her staff. Her hair was short, brown and seemed to spike off in every direction, it came down to just above her shoulders at its longest point. “I am lustier than most, nobody likes ******** pretty girls senseless more than me, however I have also been raised with better manners than most of these sea brutes combined.” She boasted with a playful wink. “You are in no danger from me pretty little bird, I am just a wanderer who has stories to tell and blessings to bestow on those who deserve it. So, how may the great Floki the Bard be of assistance to you?” She asked, once again using her brothers name as an alias for her male persona. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The bird perched upon the man’s shoulder was interesting to the young woman. She watched with interest as fingers reached up to stroke the coal black breast of the animal before it was sent off with a command. Arista watched, enthralled, as the bird took off at the command, and it’s form slowly diminished in the blue sky above as it headed in a direction that Arista could only assume was towards home. She’d, personally, never had an animal companion before. It wasn’t odd on Harmonia for people to have small pets such as felines or birds, but nothing was as void of color as the animal that had just left their company. Most of the fauna on Harmonia were either boldly colored or more brown/tawny in nature to blend in with their surroundings. The bird was just a mere speck on the horizon when the man’s voice pulled Arista’s attention back to him. She, being the naive thing she was, took the young man’s warning for concern. It was, she had to admit, an odd way to show it what with the mirth his voice gave off. She had to remind herself, once again, that she was not on Harmonia and people lived much differently throughout the universe. “I wasn’t intending to stand out.” She said gently, but her eyes did begin to roam to the people passing by. She noted the more work friendly attire that most wore as they went about their business on the pier. There were a few dressed more upscale in nature, but those people had others with them. In fact, now that she was more aware of the people around her, Arista noted the glances in her direction. “Perhaps I should have changed into something else before going for a stroll.” She conceded. Her instructors had warned her that conforming to clothing customs on some planets would be prudent of her. Brows rose at the man as he made himself comfortable and proceeded to admonish her. “Dress like a queen?” She smiled at that little comment. “I am sure I could do something to protect myself if the need arose, but I’d really rather not resort to any sort of violence. I’ll make sure to keep what you said in mind.” She said as she drew herself up in an attempt to appear more regal and less like someone worth the trouble of approaching. Of course, her small stature and lack of experience didn’t much help in her attempts. A strong breeze off the ocean caught Arista’s hair, blowing the curls back over her shoulder and pulled the light attire against her petite frame. She smiled, eyes shut momentarily as she smelled the salt of the ocean and relished the coolness of the breeze. Eyes snapped open at the rather, eh, crude language spouted out from her mysterious kind man. She didn’t remark on it though. It was a lovely switch to not be treated like some fragile flower that needed to remain pure and unaltered by the harsh realities of the world. Yes, she had been sent off to explore the universe, but her instructors had been doing a superb job of sheltering her all the same during their travels. It was part of the reason she had opted to sneak off on her own with only a small note stating she’d return on her own time. “The great Floki?” She tried to hide her amusement at the dramatic name but a quirk of her lips gave her away. “And a bard none-the-less. Perfect! I was hoping to learn more about this planet, it’s people, the laws, and any ruling families. Of course, I am also quite open to just walking around and exploring some more, that is, if you are willing to escort me?” She smiled and tilted her head slightly as she looked up at him as he continued to relax against his staff. She noted that he didn’t quite feel like the other men she was observing around the harbour. In fact, if he were dressed in something more akin to her own planets attire, he’d almost look as if he was born Harmonian with his more feminine-like features. A blush crept across her cheeks as she realised she had quickly envisioned him in a luxurious robe like the men of her homeworld wore, and found it quite attractive. This was certainly not a way a young woman like herself should be thinking in such a moment. In an attempt to hide her lush she dipped her head and turned to look around the harbour. “I’d feel safer if I were to have someone with me now that I know what sort of trouble I could find myself in. I certainly don’t want to have to head back to my instructors just yet.” She turned back to Floki once she was sure she had control of herself again and nodded her head to him. “I am Arista. I am neither great nor a bard, but hope I am worth your time and company for awhile?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Eir felt herself pout, silver eyes giving the girl a questionable glance. “Somehow, I doubt that you have anything less flamboyant in your wardrobe. It is not just your clothes though, your hair is shiny and your skin looks all soft and you smell like flowers - It is going to be hard for you not to stand out. Mjolnirian women are not pretty, you are a sailor's wet dream.” She sighed, though her words were complimentary they were also meant to poke fun at the smaller girl, Eir was a tease and liked to press people's buttons. What she said was not untrue though, she was the prime example of a Mjolnirian woman not staying pretty for very long. It was why the men sought out foreigners as their mistresses whilst fearing their bears of wives back home. The brunette raised her hands in a defensive manner, she would hate to inspire the wrath of the great warrior that was in front of her. “Really now? I would like to see that - The thought of a frail little thing like you flooring a sailor would leave me in stitches. Still, I would rather not risk it. As long as you are with me you will have no trouble.” It was true, the people on the dock were staying clear of the two as they talked, glances often went their way but they were staring at Eir as much as they were Arista herself. Eir was very much an urban legend, a walking myth in the flesh and as such she always got strange looks. The girl laughed at her name, and Eir pouted again - taking it as an insult. She folded her arms and stuck her nose in the air. “I guess the name has very little meaning to you, but around here I am a big deal. Floki is only one of my many names that the people call me. They also call me the Old One. The Raven Father. The Hammer… King.” She boasted and held an arm out to the girl, as if to suggest she hold onto it so they could walk. Arista has said she wanted company and Eir was more than happy to give it, however she thought it was best to leave the docks and find somewhere more private to talk. The girl seemed to have finally noticed the strange looks they were getting and Eir doubted she would be able to relax whilst being so exposed. Eir listened to her request, and then looked to the sky in thought. That was… a rather large question. One she could not really answer at at once. Though, she was a bard, her job was to tell stories and pass on the legends of old. “Well - the Asteroid is divided into four countries. The Goldshore is ruled by Jarl SeaWielder and he controls the southern seas and most of the planets Navy. The people of the Goldshore worship the God of Light and Passage and are mainly made up fishermen and craftsmen. This is also the place where slaves are traded and foreign goods are processed and sold. Then if you head North you will find the green lands of Yonder. To be honest Yonder was all but annihilated after the Great War though Jarl EverGreen is trying to rebuild it. The people there worship the Goddess of Fertility and Nature and the population consists of alchemists and farmers - though they do have a strong cavalry and specialise in archery and spear work. Go North until you can see no more green and you reach the Iron Mountains; Jarl IronBreaker rules over them but to be honest very little is known of him or his people. It is said the strongest warriors on Mjolnir hail from the Iron Mountains, their God is the God of the Sky and War and they partake in strange rituals and ancient traditions passed down from the first ones. The furthest Northern part of Mjolnir is the Winterlands, Jarl Dreadroot rules there. The people of the Winterlands worship the Goddess of Winter and Death - They are mages and wargs. It is almost impossibly to survive in those conditions but those who do form small, tight knit cults. You do not want to ******** with a Winterlander - they are scary. Even to me, they are scary.” That was the short version and the best summery she could come up with off the top of her head. “As for our laws; that is easy because they are not really any. Disputes, disagreements and accusations are put towards the countries Jarl and they decide if a crime has been committed, then befall a punishment they see fitting. Unlucky for you, acts of violence committed against foreigners are very rarely punished. Our asteroid is build on wealth plundered from other planets, our largest industry is the enslavement of aliens and we are known for our strong navy and ruthless military tactics. Anyone who comes here does so at their own risk - so it might be for the best if you stay with your instructors from now on.” She went on to explain, sighing when she realised she had probably talked to the point of her companions boredom. Mjolnir was not interesting to her, she had been exposed to feuds that had lasted for generations and legends that were so real to her they seemed mundane. Why anyone would take interest in this forsaken rock was beyond her, still people came. She looked down at the girl, though her blush did not go unnoticed for now she chose to ignore it for now. “I do not mind company, though all this talking has made me thirsty. There is a tavern not too far from here, we can get you some more appropriate clothing and hide from your instructors… … I mean, you do drink, right?” She asked, her tone teasing. Maybe her intentions were not all pure, this girl was interesting and she was sure her tongue would be loosened with some mead. At her core Eir was a shameless flirt and was always on the lookout for her next lover, she was as hot blooded as any soldier but had the benefit of having an understanding of women that many only dreamed of. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Well, he probably wasn’t terribly wrong about her lacking anything less flamboyant, but in Arista’s opinion she had a few things she could think of that were at least not as showy. But yes, everything else she owned was just as light and flowy. Some were even much more sheer and would probably be even worse to wear in such an environment. This was not to say that she didn’t appreciate the rest of the compliments that he tossed at her which she showed her appreciated with a smile. “Well it’s a good thing I am no longer wandering the harbour alone then, isn’t it.” Noting her companion’s reaction to her claim of protecting herself, Arista huffed. She may not look it, but she could take care of herself if needed. At least, she strongly believed she could considering she had some training in fighting. More than most other people on her homeworld got anyway. “Hmph. I don’t know if I’d floor them but I’d certainly make them think twice about bothering me anymore.” She said crisply, raising her head high to stare him down for a moment. A brow rose as Floki went on about his many titles. “Old One? King?” “She questioned, now thoroughly intrigued. “Well are you?” She questioned. “A King I mean? Or does it have some other connection that I don’t understand since I am an alien?” She glanced down at the proffered arm. Without hesitation she slipped her hand under his arm, wrapping it up to rest her hand gently on his forearm. “Well, you certainly have kind enough manners to be one.” Teasing Floki, she followed his lead through the Harbour. “I am terribly sorry though. I didn’t mean offense. It was just the way you presented your name that amused me. I hope you’ll forgive me?” As they moved through the Harbour, Floki started to delve into the rather complicated questions that Arista had presented him. She had not actually expected him to dive head long into an explanation for her. In fact, she only expected him to chuckle at her and maybe give a small story to appease her, but what she got was much more. And Arista listened to every word carefully. She was both amused, intrigued, and terrified to hear about the people of this world and how...ruthless they could be. It was also incredibly interesting to know that so many different people managed to make a home on Mjolnair. With how aggressive some of them sounded, it was interesting that they all managed to live cohesviely. “Does Mjolnair have any sort of allies? I imagine, since their wealth is not, technically their own, that there have been quite a few enemies made.” She noted softly with curiosity. With more thought on the subject, Arista was ready to delve further into the topic at hand when Floki decided to change the pace a bit. “If you think a change of clothes will help…” She glanced down at herself, somewhat bothered at the idea of shedding the clothing she had worn out and which she was comfortable in. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” At the question of drinking, Arista huffed once again. “I’ve had drinks before, yes.” She wasn’t about to admit that it had been in the company of friends and only two glasses of red wine. She wasn’t outrightly lying. Just withholding information. That was a trait her instructors had said would be well suited to her trade once she began her work and something she should cultivate. So, she cultivated it. “I have to admit though, I’ve never visited a Tavern before. I’ve heard they’re very merry though and a wonderful place to enjoy company.” With that Arista revealed a bit more about her sheltered life, but didn’t think the information was all that terribly important. So with that little decision made, and in Arista’s opinion, there was no way of taking back the offer of visiting a Tavern, she gave Floki’s arm a bit of a nudge as she expected him to lead the way. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Eir thought for a moment about her question, now that was probably the hardest question she asked so far. “It depends who you ask, really. Our Gods are alive and they live amongst us as mortals. Their spirits are tied to family lines and they live forever because when they die they are born again, from mother to daughter, from father to son. The God that lives inside me is the King of all the Gods - Though many only see that as a tale, others believe it so fiercely that they dedicate their lives to us breathing deities.” It was the best she could explain it, she was a King but only to a few, others probably believed her to be nothing more than a crazed religious fanatic who believed in fairytales. Many modern Mjolnirans no longer believed in the old ways, still it did not stop these few families from gaining power other ways. “I am a King with no Castle and no Crown.” She smirked at the girl as she apologised and took her arm, silver eyes dropping to the girl's small frame and giving her a closer inspection. A purr left the larger woman's lips. “We shall see, I am sure you can make it up to me somehow.” She teased the blonde, leading her by the arm as they talked. She was pretty, prettier than even Hilga, though she would not admit that. The brunette listened to the girls questions, her expression becoming rather strained and somewhat saddened when she asked about allied. It was a topic that hit very close to home. “Allies? Well, there was one. Though that is a long story in itself. The old Jarl of the Iron Mountains… had a lover from another world. Though I am not sure they would come to our aid if called on, I think that alliance died with the lovers. Nobody wants to take up arms because once upon a time our leaders were ********, you know. The world does not work like that. If they asked for aid… who knows.” If the Prince of Castor came to her and asked for her help, asked her to be his shield as Saga once was, would she beat the drums of war? In truth she did not know. Eir raised her free hand to grasp the pendant around her neck; Galenos had gifted this to Saga long ago and now it was in her possession. If he came, if he saw her wearing this… Well, how could she say no? The King pouted at the thought and shook her head. She was not going to dwell on such nonsense. Her mother's old flame was just that, it had NOTHING to do with her. More so the woman was more than willing to gift her to the damned Prince of Castor to repay her debt to him, she was well within her right to refuse him. Thankfully Arista’s words were enough to have her smiling once more. “Haha, they are a very merry place indeed. Everyone is drunk, everyone is horny and if you are lucky you will get to see two people knocking out each others teeth because one guy knocked over the other ones drink. There is music and dancing and people trade stories of their adventures.” She stated, taking the hint and heading towards a ship that was not too far away. The two arrived on the deck and even from the outside music was blaring from the gaps in the planks. Eir held the door for the girl and inside were several circular tables and more drunken sailors than one might count. There was dancing, busty maids and lots of laughter. A true Mjolnirian drinking hall. Eir sat Arista at a table close to the bar and then excused herself for a moment to get some drinks. She came back with two large cups of mead, the cups themselves were so large it would take both her hands to wrap around it. Alcohol was a large part of Mjolnir culture and the people drank ALOT. “Here, if this does not put hairs on your chest nothing will. Cheers, to new friends.” Eir raised her drink for a moment, and then sat a the table next to her companion. The brunette took a deep, long drink, and when she came for air half the cup was already consumed. “So, where do you hail? Your home is very different from here, huh?” She asked, resting her elbows on the table in a very relaxed manner. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ (tbc)
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