Roleplay Logs!

Tvistor

I ain't even saying anything.

Chord

Melodie said:

Gods dangit, Trey, I'll never get four stars at this rate.

I adore the irony of this post, now.

[Edit]: Oh, wow, this post got me three stars. You're good luck, @Melodie!

Melodie

The forums are sentient, I think.

Achilles

Melodie said:

The forums are sentient, I think.

then we must kill it.  If Skynet achieves consciousness we all gunna die.

Synbios

Achilles said:

Melodie said:

The forums are sentient, I think.

then we must kill it.  If Skynet achieves consciousness we all gunna die.

I, for one, welcome our new robotic overlords.

Daslin

Synbios said:

Achilles said:

Melodie said:

The forums are sentient, I think.

then we must kill it.  If Skynet achieves consciousness we all gunna die.

I, for one, welcome our new robotic overlords.

Alright, H. G. Wells. I will reject them and fight. For I will not be made a slave!

Lianca

I love @Mariya and @Morro, this exchange got utterly out of hand when I finally tried to delegate some work.

http://pastebin.com/z6qhPEcx

And is why it's easier to just do it yourself!

Morro

I'm going to have to do something incredible and serious to balance out the silliness here.

Amunet

That cheered me up a fair bit. Well done, you three. 

Favonius

I would have dearly liked to see you post the result, complete with unicorn(e)...

Talonia

1. Mariya Eruu'Yul asks, "How am I supposed to post anything without someone to dictate to?"
2. Mariya Eruu'Yul says, "Someone... whom... to dictate...
3. Mariya Eruu'Yul says, "Someone whom to dictate to whom...
   
   
   Lost it at this part

Draqoom

A snippet of family drama I guess.

Caladbolg had gone off to kill Bluef in the name of the family and died to her and Nieelensars. He explained things to me and then this happened.


*******************************************************************************
7* Bluef        12/01/5:29
 Now that your son's attempt to kill me "on orders from the family" has failed miserably,
please desist in these futile attempts to harm me, Draqoom. I am one of the few
descendants of Glyc active in the realm and I do not deserve this ridiculous vendetta
you've taken up simply because you wish to assert yourself as the family's rightful leader.
 You can have the family. As you've seen, I wish nothing to do with it until my father
returns to these realms to unseat your sorry ass.

*******************************************************************************

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "He won't."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "So you're more than welcome to wait as long as you think it'll take for him to return to do something he'll never do."

Bluef tells you, "Yes, I'm sure he'll be happy to see that you've positioned yourself as the Patriach of the family."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "He was happy I finally got the family together."

Bluef tells you, "If you want to run around and pretend to be the originator of this lineage, go ahead. But do not peter me with your insanity."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "I never make such claims."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "We all know Glyc is the progenitor of the blood."

Bluef tells you, "Yes, we do. And I was his favorite daughter. And you want to pretend that isn't true. I don't really care eiher way as long as you leave me out of your insane family dysfunctions. I do not bear the name and I will not ever again in this life unless my father returns."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "I don't pretend anything. You left the family. You gave up your rights to be a favorite of anything. That is akin to treason."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "I treat you the same as I treat my two children who did the same thing, and the same as I would treat anyone who left the family."

Bluef tells you, "One does not leave one's family. I left the clan that was being run into the ground by the same son of yours I just slaughtered."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "With help from Nieelensars."

Bluef tells you, "I'm a married woman and don't have time for these petty disturbances."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "A family cannot be ran into the ground Bluef. You left, period."

Bluef tells you, "I left a clan."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "I don't order hits on traitors, but they are free to hunt you as they wish."

Bluef tells you, "Grow up, Draqoom. Stop looking for reasons to hurt people who are better than your petty issues."

Bluef tells you, "Funny, he specifically said he was hunting me on your orders."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "He asked if you were an enemy, I said yes. He asked if he should kill you, I said go for it."

Bluef tells you, "Funny, that's not how my memory recalls it at all."

Bluef tells you, "Which means I could hire on your now as well. And we know how that went the last time I did it."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "Go ahead."

Bluef tells you, "Considering it!"

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "If you can't fight your own battles, please, hire one of your little kiss asses."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "I let you go a while ago, you just keep rearing your ugly head before me."

Bluef tells you, "I don't want anything to do with your dysfunctional little sect of our family."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "And I want nothing to do with you either, but if they want to carve you up I'm not going to stop them."

Bluef tells you, "Let's be clear on this: They have no real reason to carve me up. And frankly if they keep harassing me I'll just Someone else sort this crap out."

You tell Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch, "And let me be clear to you. What they do has no bearing on myself. I don't order them to do anything, they do it of their own free will. You're not liked, not wanted, and not respected. Deal with it."

Bluef tells you, "Yep, sure I'm not. Whatever. As if I care a bit about who or what you like, want or respect."

Bluef tells you, "Have a nice day."

Tahquil

Silver lining : At least it's legitimate roleplay.

Sena

Tahquil said:

Silver lining : At least it's legitimate roleplay.

Except the very thinly veiled issue threat.

Tahquil

You gotta give the girl a given sometimes. I mean by her standards it's... well to be honest I wouldn't know what she would class as spectacular roleplay but that's probably close to it.

Tvistor

Issue threats are the new roleplay.

Draqoom

I'm gonna have to agree with @Daeir. I honestly felt that even just saying someone rather than Someone would've been fine too, could've at least pretended that she was referring to another mark she was about to hire.

That was probably the lengthiest exchange of words between her and I ever though.

Daslin

@Tvistor wait, so Mephaos and those guys started this new roleplay a year or so ago?

Tvistor

Ugh, yeah, he's so good at it. Simplified PK discourages it so hard.

Mathonwy

Digging through old logs, I stumbled across this, which happened like the day after @Sothantos's vivisection (which is on the old forums somewhere). Given that it happened like ten months ago and that whole narrative has wrapped itself up rather nicely, I think it's safe to post.

From Sothantos's perspective:

At the bottom of a deep pit. (the Caverns of Enheduanna)
This room has not been mapped.
Broken shards of bone and decaying organic material litter the ground at the bottom of this deep pit. Sheer rock walls soar up around an uneven floor about five feet in diameter, pressing high into a darkness that conceals the far reaches of the shaft. A strange white mist drifts down from the heights to pool in little depressions in the cavern's floor, occasionally writhing up to twist into abstract shapes in a sudden moment of unnerving animation. Silence reigns, save for the sporadic impression of deep, heavy breathing that seems to come from the earth itself. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. A small patch of blackness churns mysteriously across the floor. A thick stone slab stained with dried blood looms here, tainting the area with the profane worship of Babel.

(Sothantos alone in the pit.)

A swirling mass of white smoke hurtles down out of the darkness, dispersing to reveal the form of Amunet as it reaches the ground.
Mathonwy arrives, following Amunet.
A giant snowy avian swoops in from the ether.
A stone gargoyle flaps in from the ether on grey leathery wings.
Tanris arrives, following Amunet.

Amunet flashes you a joyous smile.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Ah, hello there."

The third eye on Mathonwy's forehead blinks owlishly.

You have emoted: Sothantos doesn't look up, intent on studying the ground as he traces the cracks in the stone.

Mathonwy smiles gently, couching down to study the floor.

Mathonwy sits down.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "You know, it's interesting."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "These cracks-- probably due to the nature of a cavern in the middle of a bog."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Still, though, there are probably more than a few who think it an apt analogy for us and the mysteries we study."

You say absently, "It's the moisture."

You say, "The water."

Mathonwy nods his head affirmatively.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Sort of like figures on an extremely old canvas, I think."

A beam of prismatic light suddenly shoots into the room.

You say, "A kind of natural art, I suppose."

Lianca suddenly appears, having travelled down the beam of prismatic light.

Mathonwy greets Lianca with a sincere smile.

Amunet nods her head at Lianca.

Lianca inclines her head politely.

Mathonwy nods his head affirmatively at you.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "There's all kinds of art in nature."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says gently, "You saw some earlier."

You say musingly, "Chaos. Art."

You have emoted: Sothantos turns away from the ground, folding his hands in his hand as he finally looks up.

Mathonwy nods his head affirmatively.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "The two are very intricately related, you know."

A swirling mass of white smoke hurtles down out of the darkness, dispersing to reveal the form of Sohl as it reaches the ground.

Sohl inclines his head politely.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Even the Lord Smith's creations were lifeless before the breach."

Sohl launches into an elegant spin, arms extended as he pivots with fluid grace.
Swirling white mist wraps around Sohl's form as he spins, lifting him up and out of sight.

You say, "They do teach of your theories, you know. In the East. Chaos, as the driving force behind change, behind inspiration."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says dryly, "Yes. I believe I was in charge of teaching them."

You have emoted: Sothantos's lips twitch in a sardonic half-smile.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "They don't teach art criticism, though."

You say, "You can't fix a lack of taste."

As you knock back the absinthe, it tears across your tongue with its bitter flavour, as the back of your mouth tightens and a grimace spreads across your face.

Mathonwy's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Probably not."

You have emoted: Sothantos tilts his head distractedly.

You say, "Noise. So much noise."

Mathonwy nods his head affirmatively.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "That's bound to happen."

You say, "Maynard calls for me. As do the rest of them."

Mathonwy waves his hand dismissively.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "He had his chance to take you, but he did nothing."

You say, "I thought that he had come for me."

Mathonwy shakes his head.

Amunet says in a chic, liquored voice, "He came for the sake of his own morbid curiosity."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "He came, as I said he would, to ensure you were here of your own volition, or to make a plausible enough case to the rest of Sapience that you did."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "They view you as a walking piece of propaganda."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator looks undecided and says, "A poster."

You have emoted: Sothantos considers this silently.

Mathonwy curls his nose up and grimaces awfully.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "And back to art again."

You say, "Yet, he is trying now."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "That is because he hopes to gain by putting on a show of acting."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Isn't it taught in the East that it's not what you do, but when you do it?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Why did he not act when he stood to gain nothing?"

You say, "What does he gain now?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "He gains the respect of the people who watch him act, of course."

Mathonwy tilts his head curiously.

You have emoted: Sothantos frowns faintly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Didn't you know? That's how Silas conducts his business."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "He left the East when it was not beneficial to him, and then rejoined when it was."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "He laid down Devotion to take up Necromancy. Then he laid that down to pick Devotion back up."

You say, "I never did ask him about that."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "You never asked him what he thought about Mirane, either, but what little he did say spoke volumes."

You say, "He led. I followed. Maynard's hound, they said."

Mathonwy nods understandingly.

You have emoted: Sothantos idly runs his fingernails over the stone.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "We all did, at one point."

Mathonwy rubs his brow absentmindedly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator frowns and says, "The truth about the Light, though, is that it doesn't lead anywhere, really."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "'May the Light lead and we never fail to follow?' Who leads the Light?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Rho did, and Shallam suffered. Silas did, and the pious suffered. Azor did, and the zealots fell."

You say, "The Te'Serra, some would say."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "I've never seen a beast with more than one head lead anything, truth be told."

Mathonwy stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

A swirling portal of chaos opens, spits out a chimera, then vanishes.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Observe this chimera."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Many heads. Which of them 'leads'?"

Mathonwy pets a chimera ingratiatingly.
A chimera grins gleefully.

You grunt noncommittally.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "The answer, of course, is that none of them do. The heads act at the behest of the one who summoned them, just as the Light leads where the one who holds it goes."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "I could order this beast to attack Amunet, or Tanris, or you, or even me, and it would do so mindlessly."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Or I could simply..."

A chimera hurls itself into the void.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks you, "Do you understand, now?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "The Light only leads back to its source-- which, as a force 'generated' to protect Creation, leads back as far as the incursion of Chaos upon this plane. Everything the Light does is reactionary at best."

Mathonwy spreads his hands in a show of helplessness.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "A defensive position is never one from which it is possible to win a war."

You have emoted: Sothantos tilts his head slightly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Ask Tanris. He's seen his fair share of strategic bloodshed."

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "Quite."

You say, "Bloodshed."

You wave your hand dismissively.

Mathonwy's eyes sparkle with amusement.

You say curiously, "Why raid? Why bother?"

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "Ah."

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "An easy enough question."

You tilt your head and listen intently to Tanris.

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "Certain interests that are of minor but relevant importance are far easier to pursue with a notable absence of opposition."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says to you, "You would know about these things-- combat, bloodshed, yes? You're no stranger to them."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks you, "If someone attacked you, would you sit back and allow the attack to be unmet, or would you meet steel with steel?"

You say, "You would claim self-defense?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "The history of bloodshed between Shallam and Ashtan traces back through so many generations that Nicator himself would be hard-pressed to state with any degree of certainty who threw the first punch."

You have emoted: Sothantos shakes his head slightly, as if shooing away a fly.

You say distractedly, "They are persistant."

Most recent tells to you:
1 ) Silas: "A man can go mad with only himself for company."
2 ) Eschilde: "The gods gave us feelings. Passion for a cause. The desire ..."
3 ) Silas: "But while you're thinking, think on this: have you yet found t..."
4 ) Domatus: "Still in there eh?"
5 ) Eschilde: "Listen, just. Just, come on, get out of there and go somewh..."
6 ) Eschilde: "We're all worried about you. Just, please, come see us? Who..."
7 ) Silas: "Again, your silence suggests you have not. You know the truth,..."
8 ) Silas: "I don't know what happened to you to make you doubt yourself, ..."
9 ) Lyndee: "Sothantos, can you hear me?"
10) Silas: "Babel told me when we spoke that the Mark was individual to al..."
11) Eschilde: "Please, please tell me what it will to take for you to see ..."
12) Silas: "You might not be in a state to understand that right now, and ..."
13) Silas: "Come home, Sothantos."
14) Silas: "Why?"
15) Silas: "It's not about Shallam, Sothantos. It never has been."
16) Silas: "Have you found truth yet?"
17) Lyndee: "I hope that through the pain you can hear me, Sothantos.."
18) Lyndee: "Only those that believe can falter - that you have doubts onl..."
19) Silas: "Still no, then. Good. Stand strong, Sothantos."
20) Lyndee: "The insidious lies of Chaos and Oblivion are what has caused ..."

Mathonwy's mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile.

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "As for self defence, I, personally, think of it as preemptive action. Shallam is of n consequence--they cannot avert Oblivion, but they do tend to complicate matters somewhat."

You take a long draught of herbal tea, hoping to quench your thirst.

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "No, rather."

You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "The truth often is, de l'Evanoir-- it worries at the back of one's mind until the facts fit together, sort of like the pieces of this floor fit together."

Mathonwy nods his head at the cavern floor.

You say musingly, "The truth. We're back at that, then."

Mathonwy spreads his hands.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "What else is there?"

You have emoted: Sothantos drums his fingers absently on the floor.

You say, "Everyone makes their claim to the truth, Corso. The West, the East..."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says dryly, "Seven and eight claims, respectively."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Seven Truths, five Gods, three Codices."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator frowns and says, "Or whatever that gaudy monstrosity is in the East now."

You say, "A plinth. The word of the Te'Serra. Divine decree."

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "That such a thing is necessary to focus their faith speaks for itself."

Mathonwy nods his head affirmatively at Tanris.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "We've seen how mutable the Eastern conception of Truth is."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "This is... what, the second or third decree the Te'Serra have made?"

Mathonwy waves his hand dismissively.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator frowns and says, "I'm glad I don't have to keep it all straight in my mind any more, truthfully."

You say, "Why did you leave Shallam?"

Mathonwy purses his lips, deep in thought.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "You know already-- at least, the most of it-- but I don't mind elaborating."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says blandly, "To others I'm sorry if you have to endure this again."

Mathonwy looks up into the air for divine inspiration.

Mathonwy waves his hand dismissively.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "I was never worried that Jovaras would make me look bad, of course; he's a fool and far from my equal, let alone my better."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "I called on him to resign because I had the opportunity to do so. His incompetence was an insult to the East and to Mirane's memory. Her quiet strength was replaced with a brash attitude-- sort of like Silas, without the questionable benefit of charisma to back him up."

Overseer Tanris Rozzan, Ascendant of Zarathustra says, "I must depart for a time."

Mathonwy nods his head at Tanris.

Tanris inclines his head politely.

Tanris launches into an elegant spin, arms extended as he pivots with fluid grace.
Swirling white mist wraps around Tanris's form as he spins, lifting him up and out of sight.
Letting out an unearthly cry, a giant roc swoops out to the ether.
A stone gargoyle flaps out to the ether on grey leathery wings.

Mathonwy

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says to you, "What finally caused me to leave was the manner in which the East refused to support Their own."

You say, "Oh?"

Mathonwy nods his head affirmatively.

You tilt your head curiously.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Do you know, I was blamed in equal parts for that entire Jovaras affair?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Of course, it's accurate in the sense that I responded to him. I don't apologise for that."

You have emoted: Sothantos nods slowly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "But the Te'Serra were willing to consign me to a public humiliation precisely because I said the Qashar ought to have been treated for respect for the services they rendered to the Jewel-- no doubt you remember that, at one time, they were the only defence the Jewel had."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "I never agreed with Ovid, and obviously never will. But I also didn't agree with Sin, which Cyrene was so willing to allow into their City, nor did I agree with letting service go unrecognised."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Nor would I allow those who laboured thanklessly have their work appropriated by those who did nothing except criticise."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "The truth is the truth, de l'Evanoir, whether you or I or even They like it or not. We aren't free to choose the truth we want, or to revise it at a later date, simply because it is not to our liking."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "In the end, though, They refused to lift one finger to support me, when I was more than willing to do Their work, to support Them, even when it was not the popular thing."

Mathonwy smiles softly.

Mathonwy says in a chilly tone of voice, "Then I was branded a traitor because of the works of my uncle, who freely admitted to such later, and They did not support me because it was not the popular thing to do."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "And there you have it."

You say, "Maynard would say that you should have soldiered on alone. That you should have continued to serve Good without recognition or reward."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Of course he'd say that, but tell me: has he lived it?"

You say, "The Auriacht. He tried, there."

Mathonwy raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Did he?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Or did he try to regain the glory days of the Anointed?"

You crease your brow in a frown.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "If Good is measured in deeds, where are his accomplishments?"

Mathonwy tilts his head curiously.

You have tmoted: Sothantos remains silent, his eyes focused on a point behind Mathonwy.

Mathonwy turns his head slightly, looking behind him.

You say suddenly, "Tell me."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Of course."

You say, "If I should decide to leave, right now -- to cast away all that you have taught me -- would I be free to do so?"

Mathonwy looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "That is the mortal condition, Sothantos. You're always free to act as you see fit-- indeed, some might say cursed."

Mathonwy crouches down low, next to you.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "You've given up so much, though. Think of what you've seen; think of what you've been through."

Mathonwy reaches up slowly, pressing two fingers against the Mark of the Twin, II, carved onto your forehead.

You have emoted: Sothantos flinches slightly, but does not draw away.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says softly, "There are always consequences to one's actions, however."

Mathonwy presses a bit more firmly against your Mark.

You say, "Consequences."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "You may take a dish off of the stove before it's done cooking, but it will be ruined."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "So think of the consequences, Sothantos."

Mathonwy tenses his arm as he presses even more firmly against the Mark on your forehead.

You have emoted: Sothantos jerks slightly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Do you really want to endure walking down that road again? Do you want to endure the doubt, the helplessness-- the hopelessness? Do you want Them to abandon you the same way they did Mirane? Do you want to remain one of Maynard's hounds?"

You say, "Doubt. Helplessness. Hopelessness."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "They've branded you a schismatic, Sothantos-- a former Qasharim. Do you want those looks of scorn? Do you want the enquiring eyes, wondering always whether or not you were truly kept here against your will, or whether there was a part of you that yielded to the sweet call of Oblivion you've felt only days ago?"

You have emoted: Sothantos exhales slowly.

Mathonwy presses even more firmly against your Mark.

You wince in pain.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Would you walk away even suspecting as you do that idle hands lead to Eastern blood loss? Could you risk the loss of Ysebelle, and do you really think They would let you see her after this?"

You have emoted: Doubt flickers in Sothantos's eyes.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator firmly asks, "You know how the East rewards its faithful servants. Do you want to see the same fate befall your precious Ysebelle?"

You say uncertainly, "They told me that it's not too late, yet. To go back. That it's still possible to turn away from all of this."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator firmly asks, "You know how badly they treat you-- how they look at you as though you are a parasite, a bug to be quashed. Do you think they would let you anywhere near her? Do you think they would let you be in any position to set an example for her? Is that the life you'd want for her?"

You have emoted: Sothantos lowers his eyes.

You say, "I..."

Mathonwy says evenly in a firm tone of voice, "You know it to be true, Sothantos, because if you did not, you would not be here."

Mathonwy evenly asks in a firm, measured voice, "Do you think they care about you? Do you think they would not sacrifice one novice priestess, untried and unsure in her faith, if it did not mean inflicting untold horrors upon us... simply for Them to save face?"

You have emoted: Sothantos swallows slightly.

Mathonwy says jeeringly in a firm, measured voice, "They've cast aside Archprelates, Caliphs, and Patriarchs for less, Sothantos; what makes you think they did not send this novice into harm's way? Surely she could have been delivered out."

You say doubtfully, "She wasn't-- they didn't--."

Mathonwy looks surprised and says dryly in a firm, measured voice, "Oh, didn't they? Silas could have done it himself, but he came to watch you in your moment of shame and to speak falsehoods about your fiancee."

You say, "He's... he didn't believe that we were truly in danger. He didn't understand--."

Mathonwy sneeringly asks in a firm, measured voice, "Milabar begged me to let him into the Caverns so he could laugh at your plight and relay his suspicions to Shallam that you're nothing more than a traitor. Is this the benevolence of the East?"

You have emoted: Sothantos falters.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator exclaims passionately, "Your priestess would've served, they hoped, as one more slain victim of the Cult of Babel-- a cause to arms, a reason to gird oneself for war! Is that what you want, Sothantos?!"

You say quietly, "No."

Mathonwy asks in an impassioned tone of voice, "Then what do you plan to DO about it, Sothantos?"

You have emoted: Sothantos hesitates.
 
Mathonwy exclaims loudly in an impassioned tone of voice, "Will you let her fall? Will you let them send her against us to serve as nothing more than a recruitment poster? What-will-you-DO?!"

Mathonwy presses a bit more firmly upon your Mark, as if to further emphasise his words.

You say slowly, "I must embrace the truth."

Mathonwy says in an impassioned tone of voice, "Yes, Sothantos."

Mathonwy exclaims in an impassioned tone of voice, "You must embrace the truth!"

You have emoted: "The truth," Sothantos repeats.

Mathonwy asks in an impassioned tone of voice, "How will you embrace the truth, Sothantos?"

Mathonwy exclaims in an impassioned tone of voice, "Tell me now!"

Lianca straightens, a gleam of eager interest flashes in her eyes.

Mathonwy screams in an impassioned tone of voice, "TELL ME NOW!"

Amunet smiles coolly as she takes a sip of her absinthe, one hand on her hip as she observes the two men before her.

You say, "By -- by rejecting the lies that the East has taught me. By accepting the teachings of Lord Babel."

You say, "The truth."

You say in a trembling voice, "The -truth-."

Mathonwy exclaims in an impassioned tone of voice, "What is the truth, Sothantos de l'Evanoir? What is the truth?!"

Mathonwy drives his fingers into your forehead for emphasis, cutting open your Mark slightly.

You have emoted: Sothantos holds his head still as he stares back into Mathonwy's eyes, unblinking.

You say, "The truth that our days -- the days of Creation -- are numbered. That the void of Oblivion will inevitably swallow all. That we -- you and I, the world, everything around us -- are nothing."

Amunet's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

Mathonwy pulls his hands back from your forehead abruptly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator smiles and says, "Very good, Sothantos. Very good."

Lianca smiles softly.

You have emoted: Sothantos exhales slowly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "You will come to learn more, in time."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Show your dedication to the truth, Sothantos."

Mathonwy gives a graceful silver dagger to you.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Show us you understand the meaning of the truth."

Mathonwy glances at the slightly-cut Mark upon your forehead.

You have tmoted: Sothantos looks down at the dagger, then up at Mathonwy incomprehensibly.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator smiles and says, "I've already started you on the path. Now show me you've attained enlightenment."

You say, "What must I do?"

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Your Mark."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Cut open your Mark. Take it on with your own hand. Show your dedication to the truth."

You begin to wield a graceful silver dagger in your left hand.

Mathonwy smiles and nods his head at you.

You have emoted: Sothantos's fingers tremble as he grasps onto the dagger, his eyes distant. Taking in a deep breath, he corrects his grip and turns the blade towards his own forehead, any previous indecision no longer evident.

Mathonwy nods once, almost imperceptibly.

You have emoted: With a steady hand, Sothantos cuts deep into the mark, reopening the half-healed wound.

Lianca smiles and lifts a hand to her forehead in response to your declaration. Two claws dig into the scar as she also opens up her Mark of the Twin to bleed freely once more.

The third eye on Amunet's forehead blinks owlishly.

Lyndee tells you, "You've spent a good amount of time there - seeking some kind of truth to justify for yourself what those heathens have done to you, I imagine. Have you found it? Perhaps you seek something that isn't there. Perhaps what you need is what you have always sought - a place here in Good. In service to Light."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator smiles and says quietly, "Then it is done."

You have emoted: Sothantos lays the bloody dagger onto the ground in front of him.

You drop a graceful silver dagger.

Mathonwy picks up a graceful silver dagger.

Lianca nods her head at Mathonwy.

Mathonwy nods his head at Lianca.

You have emoted: Sothantos waits, unmoving.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "It takes a brave man to recognise the truth, and an even braver one to act on it. Are you prepared to take your leave of Shallam?"

You say, "I am. But I ask of you one concession."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator asks, "Yes?"

You say, "Time. Time to tie up loose ends."

Mathonwy looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

You say, "One month. That is all I request."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "That is not an unreasonable request."

Amunet nods her head toward Mathonwy, offering silent consent.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Remember, however, that these Easterners will stop at nothing to lay you low. They will react most harshly to the enlightenment you've received. They will use you, and they will use your loved ones-- past, present, and future."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "They are your enemy now, the enemy of true enlightenment everywhere, and you must beware them."

This is now how you appear: He is a human. Standing at just under six feet in height, Sothantos carries himself gingerly, his movements halting and awkward. Thin and angular, his leanly muscled frame is barely substantial enough to hide the jutting bones beneath. An unhealthy gauntness accentuates his sharply chiseled features, which, along with his tall, aquiline nose and the natural slant of his mouth, give his face an almost cruel appearance. His lightly tousled hair falls in waves just past his ears, the dark brown in stark contrast with the sickly pallor of his skin. Makeshift linen bandages that peek out from the open collar of his shirt. His sunken golden-red eyes are bloodshot, something about them unsettlingly out of place. The mark of the Twin, II, has been brutally carved into his forehead, the wound fresh and still bleeding.
He is wearing:
 a small pouch of ashes,
 a brooch depicting a black dragon in flight,
 steel-toed hobnail army boots,
 a pair of black boar hide gloves,
 a wyrmskin pack,
 a hunter's belt,
 an earring of Sinope,
 a pair of reinforced black leather trousers,
 a scabbard of charcoal leather,
 a black shirt, and
 a pair of red dragon's wings
When describing yourself, keep in mind that your clothing and what you are wielding is already described. Your gender and race are also already included, as follows: "He is a <your race>. <your description starts here>." To view your description, plus a bit more, try LOOK ME.

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Morality holds no purchase upon you now. You must do what you can to protect yourself and protect your loved ones from the East."

You say, "I understand."

Mathonwy Corso, the Orator says, "Then stand and go and make your preparations for the coming of the Void."

Silas

RIP *azor.

Amunet

This seems trivial, coming after the old logs of Sothantos's conversion, haha, but @Lianca worked so hard on it - and it was so hilarious - that I have to share.

Recently, my character had her "Two hundred seventy-first annual twenty-ninth" birthday. Shortly before, I was asked what I wanted for that particular occasion, and I may have facetiously said, after implying that I already had everything that I wanted, that a gaggle of handsome men might suffice. Flash forward a week or two. The situation with the ormyrr kept everyone from celebrating - the fall of Shallam (best birthday gift ever; thank you, Bal'met!) was mere seconds before midnight on the day of - but given the jovial atmosphere after Ashtan's victory earlier, Lianca decided to give me my gift. The names have been changed to protect the, ah, innocent. They may reveal themselves if they choose.

The throne room of Ashtan 

A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. An ornate golden throne sits atop a raised dais. Its beaten-gold surface battered and bent, the Broken Crown of Ashtan is prominently displayed atop a pedestal beside the throne. A Confident Gigolo is here. Lianca, Occult Taskmaster is here. She wields a cavalry shield in her left hand. A Reluctant Participant is here. Morro Viatrix Ze'Dekiah is here. A Cheerful Stripper is here.

You see a single exit leading south (open door).

As each globe of light comes to rest upon the floor, Cheerful Stripper and three other figures stand in a semicircle around an empty throne, their silhouettes sharply defined by the light. They stand tall and broad, their heads bowed and hands clasped behind their backs.

A drumbeat picks up, slow and thrumming, and Reluctant Participant lifts his head to tip you an exaggerated wink. The rest of the line follows suit, one at a time. As the beat hits a solid note, all four cock their hips to one side, a single movement before they still again.

Confident Gigolo steps forward into the light, his form cast in sharp relief by the bright illumination. In time with the music, his hands begin to unfasten his tuxedo jacket, one button at a time.

As Confident Gigolo's jacket is shrugged from his shoulders, a harsh ripping sound accompanies the other men tearing theirs off in a single motion, and the tattered remains are tossed unceremoniously about the room.

You have tmoted: Amunet raises one perfectly-arched brow, a smirk toying at the corners of her lips.

Cheerful Stripper grins at you and sashays forwards, hips moving in a tango-esque gyration. The others form a line behind him, mirroring his walk as he steps forward to straddle your knees, navel level with your gaze.

You tell Lianca, Occult Taskmaster, "Oh, Gods. They will never live this one down!"

Reluctant Participant stifles a laugh as Cheerful Stripper leans in close and slowly undulates his body, the buttons of his shirt quickly unsnapped while he does. Cheerful Stripper shrugs out of the garment and spins it above his head before letting it fly across the room to land forgotten in a corner. He gives you another wink before stepping back to join the line again.

Confident Gigolo gives a small nod and the rest of the group peel off their shirts, stripping the garments up over their heads with a revealing stretch.

Cheerful Stripper steps forward and leans in close to kiss you on the cheek, before using the tip of one finger to stripe her cheeks with more of the gaudy gold paint that decorates the strippers faces and sparkles upon their bared chests. With hips gyrating, he steps backwards to his place in the line once more.

Reluctant Participant steps forward with the other two in syncopated motion, hips still gyrating. A lewd progression of dance moves, clenched fists and thrusted hips brings them forward to surround you, the music trailing off into silence as they form an unmoving semicircle around you.

Amunet

For some reason, the forums won't let me post the whole thing. Here's the conclusion:

Morro covers her mouth with one hand, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

The three dancers all look at each other in silence, before Cheerful Stripper nods once, and they return his acknowledgement. Immediately the music starts up again in earnest, loud thrumming drumbeats that drown out all other noise in the room. Three pairs of hands reach down, and with a loud tear three pairs of trousers are swiftly removed, revealing matching black briefs.

Confident Gigolo asks you in a smooth, low voice, "Who goes first?"

You have tmoted: Amunet glances from Morro to Lianca, her eyes glittering with mirth, before staring expectantly back at the trio of men.

Lianca, Occult Taskmaster smiles impishly and says to you, "Pick a man."

You ponder the situation. 

You say to Cheerful Stripper in a chic, liquored voice, "You, I think - for Lianca's sake."

Cheerful Stripper's face twists into a wicked grin, his eyes gazing upon you with a cruel gleam.

Cheerful Stripper turns about face, the others following suit until they face away from you. Their hands at their 

backs grasp the hems of their briefs, and in unison they rip the garments free.

Confident Gigolo begins to wield a sheer pair of black see-through boxers in his left hand.

Reluctant Participant begins to wield a sheer pair of black see-through boxers in his left hand.

Reluctant Participant says to you in a sullen and disgusted voice, "Should we turn?"

Cheerful Stripper begins to wield a sheer pair of black see-through boxers in his left hand.

Reluctant Participant says to you in a sullen and disgusted voice, "Speak up!"

You have emoted: Amunet laughs uproariously, her melodious chuckle echoing throughout the chamber as 

she nods the affirmative, unable to form words.

Confident Gigolo says in a smooth, low voice, "What was that?"

Reluctant Participant says in a sullen and disgusted voice, "We can't hear you!"

Lianca calls out, "She chose Cheerful Gigolo!"

You say laughingly in a chic, liquored voice, "Yes! Yes, turn about. Let's see the whole of it."

Confident Gigolo gives a sharp nod, and, as if on command, all three turn and throw their underwear at you, 

the cheap material raining down over your head. With a final beat of the drum, the lights go out.

You are startled as a sheer pair of black see-through boxers bounces harmlessly off you after being 

thrown at you by Confident Gigolo.

Cheerful Stripper tosses a sheer pair of black see-through boxers to you, and you catch it nimbly.

Lianca gives up a round of applause.

You are startled as a sheer pair of black see-through boxers bounces harmlessly off you after being 

thrown at you by Reluctant Participant.

Cheerful Stripper exclaims with an urbane accent, "Happy birthday!"

Cheerful Stripper leaves to the south.

Lianca gives a trillingly melodic laugh.

Reluctant Participant leaves to the south.

Confident Gigolo says in a smooth, low voice, "Happy Birthday."

Confident Gigolo struts proudly about the room.

Confident Gigolo leaves to the south.

Reluctant Participant has stopped his own heart, killing himself instantly.

Lianca gives you a peck on the cheek.

Lianca, Occult Taskmaster laughingly says to you, "Happy birthday."

Orklanishkal

I just got why Apple heartstopped, lol

Amunet

That heartstop made the entire thing. It wouldn't have been the same if he hadn't been surly, foul-tempered, and suicidal!

Tanris

I'm not sure whether to be relieved or sad that my internet cut out so I couldn't participate. Happy medium?

Silas

If one of those wasn't Mizik, I'm going to be so disappointed in all of you.

Amunet

We were saving Mizik for your text-birthday, @Silas.

Bluef

Daeir said:

That was all right and good until the issue threat. Ruined the entire interaction.

There was no issue threat. The Someone in that sentence should have been lowercased. It was a reference to the last time Draqoom pulled this crap. He got owned hard by Marks.