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 Posted: Sun Dec 11, 2016 8:01 pm
If she was being honest, and Beth always tried to be, she had no idea what she was doing. Perhaps it was the late year hustle that had set in, some kind of energy in the mid-holiday air that said she should be more active than she was. But when she heard a whisper from an Ares Chosen of a Vault in the Armory, of treasure, and perhaps a secret test of mettle, she found herself overtaken with an insatiable desire to do something in the wake of her normally idyllic day to day life. There was a vague sense of guilt for not pulling her weight, so she recruited her usual suspect roster of a group to help her find this mysterious treasury. "I know it's not our usual fare, but maybe we'll find something useful?" Beth said as she strode along past the rows of weaponry, leading Misha and Brian in an unprecedented show of initiative. Quest Part One: Characters pass through the door and enter a room made of gold, much too large to be contained in any way within the Armory. It is long and empty and lined with simple columns. At the far end sits a Sphinx, watching them with narrowed cat eyes. "Come Chosen, come Heroes, come show me what you are made of. If I like what I see, perhaps I'll grant you access to the treasures I guard..." ShortGreen Not sure if we want some intro RP or if we want to jump right into the challenge!
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Posted: Sun Dec 11, 2016 10:04 pm
"Maybe." Misha looked around at the weapons as they walked. Absently, she tugged on one of her braids before licking her lips and adding, more certain and louder, "You have to wonder, though, about how an adventure could happen here at the Prytaneum. Usually we get whisked off somewhere else to fight monsters or solve puzzles." She grinned. She wasn't nervous - not exactly. There were definite levels of concern, though. Misha was not stupid, after all; she only acted like a fluff-brain. "It's both really nice and cozy and also really worrying. I mean, shouldn't Max and everyone know when stuff like this is around?" "Stuff like this" being the fact that the armory seemed to be bigger than it should be and they were now facing a door that looked more than a little intimidating.
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Posted: Mon Dec 12, 2016 11:19 am
It was interesting for Beth to be showing so much initiative, or at least to Brian. Where he might have stepped forward on any other day he was glad this time to fall back and just follow the young women where they were off to. He dwarfed them by a mile, but he'd watch their sixes. He wouldn't put it past the Prytaneum to have a dangerous armory room. What sort of "mettle" was going to be tested anyway? They had to be prepared.
"Maybe we're just expected to fight monsters and solve puzzles here," he offered. He hoped not, but who knew? They stood outside the door and he marveled over it a bit. Well then. "Alright. Shall we?" Still he stayed back, resisting the urge to push the door open and go all Officer Watterly on whatever stood beyond.
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Posted: Mon Dec 12, 2016 3:16 pm
And on the threshold, Beth hesitated. It was her idea; she ought to do the honors. But what if what they found on the other side wasn't something she wanted? What if she found herself, as she had so often, at a loss? At best, she would look foolish. At worst.... But she had her first and best friends among the Chosen with her. Though she knew the risks of asking such a question, she had to wonder: what was the worst that could really happen? With a deep breath and a bracing inhale, Beth unlatched the door, threw it open, and stepped through. Despite her effort to be calm, her heart jumped in her throat as her wide blue eyes took in the room beyond. There was too much here to be contained in the Armory. The floors, the walls, even the far off ceiling, glinted gold, shimmering despite the lack of obvious light; everything was suffused with a yellow tinge. And yet, it was empty. Her heels echoed loudly as she continued her progress into the golden void. "I'm...almost disappointed." She'd built it up so much and it was nothing but an empty room; large, yes, but perhaps like a gilt lily in more ways than one. "I guess I thought there'd be...more." But beyond that, she sounded puzzled. What was the use of an empty room and why tempt intrepid Chosen with tales of a dangerous adventure within it? ShortGreen SOMEbody failed the spot check surprised grasshopper pie Besides, I figured I'd give everyone a chance to add their observations. xp
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Posted: Wed Dec 14, 2016 6:27 pm
Misha pulled abreast of Beth and absently reached up to rub the other woman's should reassuringly. "You and me both," she replied and her wrinkled nose seemed to indicate that her answer was to both statements. "It's pretty and what girl doesn't like gold but what else? It almost feels like..." Before she could finish her mild complaint, the three Chosen heard a slight shifting sound and their attention flew to the large Sphinx statue at the far end of the long room. The wings seemed to settle but, more unnerving, its eyes narrowed and watched them intently. Misha swallowed hard and reached behind her to search out Brian's hand. Her other hand stayed on Beth's shoulder. Then, with a voice as rough as a sandstorm, the Sphinx said, "Come Chosen, come Heroes, come show me what you are made of. If I like what I see, perhaps I'll grant you access to the treasures I guard..."
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Posted: Thu Dec 15, 2016 5:32 pm
Brian stepped into the hall behind the women and peered down the length of it. Well, it sure was shiny. Somehow he had missed this room on his tour upon arriving. Then again, he was pretty sure the tour guide had missed it. In fact, this was the Prytaneum. There was a chance that it hadn't been here at all until recently.
He shared Misha's sentiment that something was up, though. The strange sound had drawn his attention too, perhaps more sharply, and his eyes narrowed. Sphinx? They weren't Greek, were they? Egypt, he thought. Definitely Egypt. So what was one doing here? He remembered that they used to pose riddles, and if you failed... what? Did they eat you? He should have brought some more weaponry.
Now he did step between his companions and ahead purely out of protective instinct. He offered the Sphinx an equally instinctive partial bow. As for words, he was entirely lost on them. Circe had done some talking, sure, but she hadn't been talking to him, or even to Beth or Misha. It felt assuredly strange.
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Yekaterin rolled 3 100-sided dice:
13, 57, 51
Total: 121 (3-300)
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 8:13 pm
(Rolling for themes!)
13: Grief
57: Death
51: Grudge
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ShortGreen rolled 3 100-sided dice:
79, 13, 99
Total: 191 (3-300)
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Posted: Sun Dec 18, 2016 8:14 pm
Rolling for themes
79. Birth
13. Grief
99. Secrecy
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bobaTJ rolled 3 100-sided dice:
51, 100, 49
Total: 200 (3-300)
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Posted: Thu Dec 22, 2016 7:25 pm
Rolling for themes:
51. Grudge
100. Wrath
49. Hunger
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Posted: Mon Dec 26, 2016 2:25 pm
Any words of teasing apology dried up in Beth's throat as it closed over at the creature's words. Though she was first into the room, she was the last to notice their monstrous host. She hoped Misha couldn't feel her quaking through her light touch on Beth's shoulder. Come closer, the creature had bidden them, and Beth felt that she couldn't deny the order. Her steps slowly and almost painfully brought her closer to the Sphinx. She tried to keep her back straight, her posture as regal as she could make it. She kept her blue eyes upon the Sphinx's dark ones until she stood before those great paws, and only then did she drop her gaze--but not her head--demurely. The Sphinx rumbled a bit, and Beth wondered if she was laughing, purring, or growling. The creature considered the woman before her, and then said, "Well, little mouse? Will you tell me a story?"Beth's eyes lit up and then crinkled with anxiety. She was better at telling stories than solving riddles--but not by much. "That depends," she replied carefully, "on the type of story you want to hear.""Tell me of yourself." The Sphinx's tail lashed behind her reclining figure as she spoke. "Tell me what you know of Death."The color drained from Beth's face. She tried to think, words tumbling over one another in her head, like a river over rocks. What could she say? What details to leave in? Did she want the best narrative or did she want her to tell the.... Like a thunderclap, the Sphinx's words cut through her thoughts (had she been frozen for that long?): "Careful how you answer, child. If you lie, I will know. And I detest liars, no matter how sweet their marrow tastes." And then she smiled. It was not warm. Beth could not help the frightened squeak that she emitted. She dared not look to Misha or Brian. All she could do was breathe, composing herself and her thoughts. Finally, she began. "When I was twelve, my grandmother, my mother's mother, died after a long sickness. Everyone was so busy with this arrangement or that lawyer that I kind of didn't exist. She was one of the most glamorous women I've ever met. She was still seeing a hair dresser and a manicurist even in the week before she died. She was wrapped in a satin dressing gown when she went." Her eyes were slowly unfocusing as she became consumed with the context and the influence of such a woman's story. But she soon shook her head to continue with what felt objectively relevant (as such could be said regarding memories). "I remember seeing her in that coffin and wondering if she'd always been that small. She had been so imperious and above it all. Could I always have cupped her entire skull in my hands? She looked like a person made of matchsticks and I hated it." Though her eyes were bright, no tears fell. Beth fell silent and looked as if she could go on, but gave the Sphinx a pleading look, as if begging her to move on, or give any hint of dismissal. She only breathed again when the Sphinx's eyes moved to focus on Misha. ShortGreen Yikes that was quite the wall of text. grasshopper pie Sorry, but hope it was worth the wait!
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2017 7:01 pm
At first Misha did not notice the Sphinx's attention had shifted to her. Her gaze remained on Beth, her heart aching for her friend's obvious distress. "Oh, sweetie." She started towards her, hand outstretched. "Now, you." The booming voice hit with an almost physical force and Misha stopped dead in her tracks. Slowly, she turned her eyes back to the Sphinx. She resisted the urge to swallow and simply lowered her hand back to her side. Then she spun on her heel to face the creature. Her smile sprang to life, toeing the line between cheeky and sweet. "Who me?" she asked. "Yes. Tell me a story. A true story. Tell me a story about birth." Misha forced a giggle even though she hardly felt like laughing. The molten gold eyes unsettled her deeply. "About birth?" she repeated. "Let's see. Once upon a time, long ago, when your mother's mother's mother..." "Do not seek to deceive me, little girl. I will know." "I..." Misha looked at the ground, hiding the immediate, complicated mix of shame and anger that shone in her eyes at the reprimand. She worried her bottom lip with white teeth. Then she inhaled deeply, drew her shoulders back, and lifted her gaze back to the Sphinx. Her posture rigid and proud, she began again. "I never had a pet. Mom and Dad said we were too busy and a pet was a lot of work. But I had friends who had pets and my cousins in Arizona lived on a ranch so when I visited them I could pretend I had pets. When I was six, we went out to Arizona for our usual two week visit. I ran completely wild, got cactus-scratched and sunburnt and nearly lost my voice from hollering." A faint smile curved her lips as she thought about those summer days. Then it faded. "My cousin Kamala and I found the goat in the barn. She was on her side and breathing heavily. I remembered playing with her earlier in the week. Gently, though, because she was extremely pregnant. She looked so sick and weak. She didn't even meeeeh when we got close. She was too busy trying to pant and push. Can you imagine being six and out of your mind with fear that the goat you had played with was going to die? I thought we had played too hard with her and she was broken." Misha shook her head. One corner of her mouth quirked up again. "Kamala was a little older, though, and it was her ranch. She knew what to do. She started to tell me to run back to the house but then the goat just... Well, just kind of screamed. Next thing I knew, I was down on my knees in the hay with Kamala. I rubbed the goat's head and just..." She gave a little shrug and lifted her hands in a gesture that clearly said "what else could I do?" Then she laughed. "Next thing I knew, we had two slimy looking baby goats and Kamala finally let me run back to the house to get my uncle. Drippy, icky hands and all." Misha smiled. "I tried to get permission to keep one but no go. Not even arguing that I was their aunt helped," she added. Then she sent a challenging look at the Sphinx. "How was that?" It nodded and turned ponderously to Brian.
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Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2017 12:28 pm
Brian was rather clearly in mission-mode. Beth was clearly pained by the memory of her grandmother, but she wasn't in physical danger. It was battle that he was prepared for and so he didn't move, not now, not yet. When the Sphinx traded its gaze to Misha he thought: this is coming to me. It was forcing them to tell stories to... what? Sate its need for pain? Birth didn't seem so bad a subject, though. He had at least four when it came to that, but no, he imagined that he'd get a different subject to ponder. He did a quick check, turning to the girls at his right to be sure they weren't keeling over or anything of the sort, and when he settled his gaze back on the Sphinx it was directly in the eye. He didn't waver. The beast looked terribly predatory, but it had not moved from its pedestal. Maybe all it wanted was words.
"And you," the Sphinx said. Brian offered a little nod. "Tell me what you know of hunger."
Hunger. Alright. Brian's brow furrowed as he thought back. Ah. Alright. Hunger.
"When my mom was younger, her family didn't have much. There were five kids, so they had to be inventive," he began, "I guess that's why-- well. When I was little, we used to volunteer and my mom always carried some cash in case we came across anyone panhandling. I don't know if I really got it until I was older, but everyone was so appreciative. Then when I was... ten or so? We came across a guy with a sign at an intersection. He was young, maybe in his twenties, and his sign said that he had a wife and baby, and there was this picture of the three of them together. My mom was almost crying. She gave the guy a hug and ten bucks. I mean, he was all skin and bones. It was hard to realize in that... childlike way that homeless people weren't born homeless? That there wasn't just this caste of people destined to be homeless, that it could be any of us." The police force was not exactly known for its fair treatment of the homeless either, but he'd made it his duty to show respect and empathy when it came to the less-fortunate. Now he'd just have to find another route to follow it through.
Having bore his emotions on his sleeve for a moment, he did not turn to Beth as the Sphinx did. He felt vulnerable, and he hated it, even if it was just Beth and Misha.
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Posted: Wed Jan 11, 2017 4:45 pm
It took some time for Beth to steady herself after revealing the salient points of her grandmother's funeral. There was so much more, so many little details and moments that added to the weight on her chest. How could she possibly remember it all, much less convey it fully? She was struck by how inadequate language was for communication. And yet.... She caught her breath as Misha related her story about newborn goats. It almost brought Beth's customary smile out to hear--but the twinge in her heart brought her down. Of course Misha had no inner demons or secret children. Beth wondered if any thunderstorm had ever darkened the blooms of her Aphrodite-blessed rose garden? But didn't others assume the same of her? Especially in light of Brian's story. Her insides squirmed as she thought back to one of their breakfast talks. Something about eating the finest dining and how quaint she found him for considering Olive Garden fancy. Her words sounded surreal--as if she was the one out of touch with reality. She'd never had to worry about food--never had to wonder where or when her next meal would come. To be reduced to begging, to rely on the kindness of strangers was a completely foreign concept to her. The more she thought of it, she wondered how one could truly live that way. When every day was a gamble, how could one plan for the future or save up to climb out of the pit of poverty? Some small part of her whispered to beware how much pity she spared; what had she truly worked for in her life? How much of her circumstance relied upon the continuing kindness of others, specific though those figures might be? She might have reached for her companions, but musing on her own private tragedies kept her isolated. Any hope she might have nurtured that the gauntlet was over shriveled when the Sphinx looked at her. ' Again?!' She thought to herself, swallowing the urge to say it to a face with those sharp teeth and paws with claws made for rending. "And to you, I pose a second command. Speak of another time of Grief." She said, dark eyes considering the girl's figure, glinting with something remarkably like pleasure. Almost before the directive began rattling around her head, words came tumbling out of her mouth. "When I turned sixteen, I begged my father to rent out an entire seaside manor so that my friends and I could have the run of the rooms and the grounds. I wanted to celebrate the last exams of the year, start summer early. All sorts of silly, stupid things. I couldn't tell you what I wanted or expected to happen. But I invited all of my friends from school."Her lips quivered. She wasn't sure when she had begun crying until the trembling brightness in her eyes slid down her cheeks in slick tracks. "I guess I picked the wrong weekend. None of them came." She sensed more than saw the Sphinx shift her weight and quickly amended, "Some family friends and Dad's business partners were there by Sunday, but...they weren't there for me. It was my party and I thought that at least some of them would go, if only because their parents wouldn't want to risk offending my father, but...." She broke off, shutting her eyes tight, squeezing a small tide of tears out with the pressure. "While I cried in the master bedroom, my mother complained that no one would see the dress she'd bought herself especially for the party. And my father made sure I knew the exact figure my birthday had cost him. But at least he'd salvaged some of it by calling a meeting on the last day of the rental." She couldn't help the bitterness that crept into the last sentence. Even as she finished, she wondered what she must sound like next to Misha and Brian. How shallow and self absorbed, sheltered and ungrateful. To avoid confirmation of her fears, she turned away from any possible gaze of pity or contempt, crossing her arms just as much to distance them from her as to give herself a hug. Why had she thought this was a good idea?
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Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2017 1:39 pm
"Beth." Misha had known her friend had a privileged life before the Prytaneum and probably more than a bit of spoiled princess streak but who was she to talk? Treasured only daughter of a well-off couple herself. She bit her bottom lip and took another step towards her friend. And again, just like before, the sphinx and her booming voice stopped her dead in place. A chill ran through her and, with reluctance, Misha turned her attention back to the imposing beast. "What?" she asked and it came out too sharp, too challenging. The molten-gold eyes narrowed, warning her. "You will tell me of grief now and no lies, little one. I will know." Part of Misha bridled at once again being accused of lying but the rest of her went cold as ice. She could not tear her eyes away from the glowing intensity of the sphinx's. Before she could stop herself, she found the words tumbling out of her in a rush. "I saw my first ballet when I was four years old. Sleeping Beauty. My parents like to talk about how I spent the next six months badgering them into signing me up for dance lessons." A fleeting smile danced over her lips but then faded. "Miss Natalie was my very first dance teacher. Ballet. She taught me all of the positions for my feet and how to hold the big beach ball and retied the ribbon my mom used to put in my ponytail. I thought she was the most wonderful lady in the world. So pretty and nice and kind. She held my hand when I did my first pirouettes because I got dizzy and almost fell over. She gave me hugs before and after shows. She was my teacher until I was ten years old." Her voice thickened, slowed, and softened. Misha closed her eyes. "Then she got sick. Really sick... Cancer. She had to stop teaching. She lost so much weight. She lost her hair. Mom took me to visit her a few times over those last six months and it was scary to see her like that. She looked like a ghost." Misha swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her own torso tightly. "She came to our recital that year. I had a solo. I was only eleven but they let me do it because it was for her... She died a month later and I cried until I was sick. We all did. Everyone loved Miss Natalie. I put roses on here casket at the funeral. Purple ones because that was her favorite color." Suddenly, Misha dropped her arms and opened her eyes and lifted her chin. She looked at the sphinx with challenging heat. How dare this monster pull of that out of her? How dare the beast get off on the pain? She finished the story with sharp, staccato words. Like gunshots. "I quit ballet. I never did another damn pirouette and gave the toe shoes I had been fitted for back to the shop. Happy now?"
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Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2017 3:28 pm
Brian wasn't sure the Sphinx could even be happy. Pleased, sure, but happy? The damn thing hadn't even flinched once and they were baring their souls.
The urge to go to Beth when she spoke of her failed Sweet Sixteen. Nobody deserved to experience something that rough. He could only imagine how lonely Beth had felt, how destroyed. She was always so positive, it was harrowing to see her suffer like then. Then again, maybe the suffering was the reason for the positivity.
The man's arm reached out behind them, but before it met Beth the Sphinx was at it again. His fingers still met her side, but flickered away sooner than he would have planned. Hopefully it wasn't going to undo whatever it was they had been doing with this furry b***h.
Then it was Misha's turn again. The story began so happily that obviously it was going to end in the worst way possible, and it did. A little sigh left him as he watched Misha, and he reached out to touch her too, but no, it was his turn. Of course it was. His arm hadn't even left his side by the time the Sphinx turned to him.
"You," it said, "Tell me the story of a grudge." He wasn't accused of being a liar, at least, but he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do. Grudges were ridiculous. In fact he made it a point to avoid them. What good did holding a grudge do? It sapped your energy while the other person probably just moved on in their life. What was the deal when you didn't have a story? He'd thought that the Sphinx was all-knowing, like it was asking for stories that it knew existed for it's own sick-- ooooh.
Yeah, maybe he had one. Alright. The furry b***h won this one. How did this even begin to compare to stories of loss and death? It was just a girl.
"Before I was deployed this last time, I met a girl. It's not for everyone, being the person left behind, and I get that, but we talked about it beforehand and she was willing to stick it out. It means a lot. So I went out and we emailed as much as we could, video chat when we could, it's a war-zone, it isn't that easy, but I thought we were okay. One day, out of the blue, she sends me a Dear John." Actually, he told himself, it had started "Brian, I don't know how to say this" and then said it bright and clear. His jaw set and worked for just a moment. "I called her, she didn't answer. I might have thrown some things. I was pretty pissed. She said it was too hard, that we couldn't stay together. This was only a couple days after the last time we talked. I, personally, think she had a guy on the side, which is just peachy." There was an unusual intensity in Brian's eyes. He wasn't a man who got angry, not usually, but he was definitely annoyed. "Personally, I wouldn't mind if she was living in a trailer park right now. My family'd probably like to tear her hair out too."
That was all he offered, though. There was more, there were more details, but he didn't supply them. There was more hate, but he didn't dare. His eyes stayed on the Sphinx, though, like he was staring her down.
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