Impetus (Peregrine x Ragamoofin)

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Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#81
Amaris watched Ansell's reaction to her speech, eyes silent but demanding. However, some of the coldness seemed to melt from within her eyes as she watched his mental struggle. There he went, worrying about her again. Maybe if he worried a little more about himself, and less about other people, he wouldn't have gotten himself into this situation.

But at least she now knew he wasn't here voluntarily. And while that meant he was now in more danger, it also meant Amaris was going to have to find some way to break him out of this surge of wild magic and get him home again. Hopefully next time he'd stay there after she left.

A faint rustle from the forest caused Amaris' head to snap to the side, even as she watched the deadly flowers sprout from Ansell's skin. A frown crossed her lips, while she scanned through the mass of growth for the creature she knew was waiting just beyond sight. The stupid shrub had finally decided to show itself, which meant it was time for her to get to work.

Amaris moved forwards as soon as she caught sight of the creature coming from the forest, ignoring Ansell's excitement and its own cool response in favor of physically planting herself in between the boy and the creature. She was determined to transform her small, thin body into a shield for the kid, until she was able to break him free of the Wildling's spell.

"Good?" Amaris repeated, a sadistic smile of plesure blooming across her lips as she came to a standstill halfway between Ansell and the Wildling. "Now, I don't have wood for a brain, so maybe I don't understand how a plant thinks, but I can't think of any particular reason why you'd consider my presence here good." Already, blood was dripping from her wrists, forming into ropey coils that twined up her arms to her shoulders, forming armor and whip-like weapons at once. One tendril reached into her pocket, seizing the blood token she'd created from hunting the hounds last night. If it truly came to a fight, their blood would provide a sharp edge to her side.

She glanced backwards towards Ansell, and the spell in his hands. And that was the knife against her throat, if it came to a fight. If the Wildling attempted to force her to fight Ansell... well, she'd have to find some way to incapacitate him, assuming he didn't set off that small apocalypse he'd so carefully cultivated.

"Let the kid go, plant," she continued. "And we'll be able to part ways without having to figure out if one battle will decide the war."
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#82
Eyes shutting as a roll of amusement escaped it's body, the Wildling steadied itself among the wild flowers, shaking it's head at Amaris' threat. "You make it sound as if I am keeping the boy here," it said, a chuckle still in it's words. "As for the war, you are not my enemy." Eyes focusing on Ansell for a moment, the boy fluttered under the creature's stare. "Not anymore."

Raising it's head, it's horns grew skyward, the whole of the clearing erupting in a flurry of pollen and petals. It acted as a momentary cover, even the wind seemed to blow harder for the Wildling's gesture. The whirlwind began to settle, and as it did, the clearing had taken back it's normalcy. The reckless magic that had made it a knotted mess was spread to the edge of the trees, exposing shorter grass and only a few sprigs of color in the form of peonies.

As amazed as Ansell sounded behind Amaris, he would not have been her concern, not with the Wildling coming closer. Slowly, showing some caution towards her.

"It is Amaris, is it not? I am the watcher of these woods, the Wildling known to that town." Eyes cast to the clouds, it's welcoming smile turned downward. "I was once known as Thumil. You may call me whatever you like."

Ansell's voice came as a whisper behind the witch, glee barely contained in the hushed sound. "I knew that," he almost cackled.

"I would like to take the chance to apologize to you. In the night, and with your time around that thing, I took you as a pawn to the false idol." Raising a hand, Thumil silently called for Ansell to stay put, the boy itching to bolt from behind Amaris. "I see now that is not the case, and for that, I offer my deepest regrets."

Starting in a circle around the two, Thumil folded all but it's flower carrying arms behind it's back. "As for the boy, I am afraid he must remain here, at least until his part in this is done." Stopping, Thumil's four-eyed gaze landed on Amaris. "After all, you would like to see that idol extinguished, would you not?"
 

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#83
Amaris watched the clearing with wary eyes, tensed and ready for some quick action from the Wildling, but not taking action herself. Not yet, at least.

Of course, the Wildling's gesture of goodwill, if that was indeed what that was, didn't cause her to release the spined, bloody armor that had covered most of her body by now. However, perhaps in some sort of concession of her own, one of the tendrils released the crimson orb it had been holding, dropping it out of sight in one of her pockets.

As the Wildling circled, Amaris matched its pace, stepping sideways in pace to make sure she stayed in between it and Ansell. She knew it was a mostly futile gesture, the Wildling had poison plants grown around Ansell's neck, and her body wouldn't do much to prevent the flow of magic. But, ultimately, it was a gesture. A statement that she didn't trust this creature, that she'd need to see more if it truly wanted to call a truce.

"Your words and your actions contradict each other, Thumil," Amaris replied, her eyes hard. "I would see Ansell freed from that birdbrain, yes. He's suffered more than enough at its sadistic hands. But that doesn't mean I have any intention of leaving him in the care of a creature that has him under magical influence, and then grows poison flowers around his neck."

Amaris clenched her teeth, hands balled into fists as fury briefly colored her tone. "Don't consider me dumb, creature. I would have recognized that its your magic muddling his brain even if you hadn't so boldly professed it when you first walked into the clearing."

Amaris took a shaky breath, but when she spoke again she was calm. Her arms folded across her chest, and she stopped moving, staring the Wildling down. "If you are not keeping the boy here, if you have no ill intentions towards him or me, prove it. Release him from your magicks, and I'll do what I can to help you see that birdbrain gone for good."
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#84
Thumil shook it's head at Amaris' request, eyes falling shut; for the first time, the amused look on it's face shifted to one that seemed disappointed. "Your help would be greatly appreciated, Amaris, but I must ask you," turning to face her, Thumil glared down at the blossoming lad, the poppy on his head catching it's attention. "How do you think the idol has become so weak? For all his fortitude, Ansell alone is not strong enough to restrain it." Ansell, despite the discouraging words, returned an all-too glad smile to Thumil's glare. Quietly, beneath the tension of the conversation, his hands worked over his spell.

"No, it was the very magic he bears that keeps the idol frail. Now, vulnerable. And soon..." With a flick of it's hand, Ansell gave a shiver, features twitching as his eyes fought to stay open through the discomfort working through him. The newest of flowers around his neck grew closer to his face, the boy blowing at the leaves that strayed near his mouth.

"Kinda itchy," was Ansell's only complaint.

Folding it's hand away, Thumil looked over Ansell with pity, though the expression quickly turned back to a neutral one with Amaris back at it's attention. "I am aware of his suffering by the idol's cruelty, I do not wish anymore pain to come to him. For that, I gifted him that poppy," Thumil stated, pointing to the massive flower on Ansell's head. It seemed darker now, the red even more prominent. Ansell's skin, at first as green as spearmint, was flushed, almost sickly.

"Do you know what those flowers are used for? They contain a natural painkiller, though most only use it for sleep and..." Thumil chuckled, smiling as it recalled the other usages. "Well, the sensations in larger amounts can be enjoyable."

Ansell let out a booming laugh, snickering and clutching his spell to his chest, nearly doubled over from being so tickled. "I'm high!"

Thumil nodded, very amused by Ansell's outburst. "Very much so, pet." It took only another wave of it's hand to inspire the growth of Ansell's poppy, petals flourishing higher, Ansell letting out a pleased giggle as it grew and grew. "Gone for good? Very apt, soon very true." Stopping the poppy's growth when it caused Ansell's head to tip, the boy's legs swaying, Thumil beckoned his focus - or what remained of it. "Ansell, would you like to tell our company why that is?"

Losing his balance, Ansell fell to the ground, still gripping his grotesque spell to his body. Head rolling on the grass, a wordless groan came to his lips, barely able to lift his head to peer at the creature. "Uh, why? It-it's because, I-" Thumil's hand flicked, Ansell's nightshade growing berries for it. A clarity came to his darkened eyes, a loopy grin on his face. "Oh! It's because I'm the finishing touch!" Gathering himself, Ansell hugged the spell to his stomach, going as far to curl his legs protectively around it. "I don't really know what this thingy is inside me, but Thumil says it's gotta go, so I've gotta go!"

Nodding it's approval, Thumil looked between Amaris and Ansell, gauging her reaction to the boy's words. "Yes, and what else, pet?"

Finger to his lip, Ansell thought hard. "Ugh, thinking. Um, because-" Eyes popping open, Ansell attempted to snap his fingers, barely able to press his digits to make a sound. "Because my-" Eyes widening, Ansell slapped a hand over his mouth, claws digging into the flesh of his cheek. With his other, he pried his own hand away, smearing green over his lips. "Weird," he breathed, an odd smirk on his face, one eye twitching with the effort of holding himself back. "It's because m-" Again, his hand dug into his face, lips pierced by his claws, a heavy drip of blood over running over his chin. Muffled, Ansell struggled against himself, an internal one that was painful just to watch.

Thumil looked on with an edge to it's stare. "Ansell," it spoke, the boy freezing where he sat. "I asked you why." Ansell jerked as the nightshade grew up to his throat, purple spreading around his face, leaves growing out around his mouth.

Shaking his head, Ansell's green blood turned purple, fist coated in the tainted fluid. Opening his eyes, one dark, the other brown and weeping, Ansell pulled his hand away from his mouth and screamed.

"Because my soul's Jukheyrilieth!"
 
Last edited:

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#85
Amaris felt her hands curling into fists, biting into the half-rigid weave of her blood armor. “Fucking birdbrain,” she muttered quietly, words pitched so low they were barely audible. In all his cries, begging, and pleading, it had never occurred to the idiot to mention that its death would leave Ansell soulless?

Then again, if it had told her, would she have even believed it?

None of that mattered now. All that mattered was that Amaris had to act now.

“That’s enough!” she shouted in turn, her words sounding almost like an echo of Ansell’s own scream. The bloody tendrils that grew around her were already unraveling, flying across the clearing, while one small tendril dug out the blood token from her pocket once again.

The bloody wave flew outwards in all directions, the tendrils coiling among trees and shrubs, while most flew unerringly for both Ansell and the Wildling. Amaris was restarting the war, after only a couple minutes of ceasefire. It had to be the shortest moment of peace this little valley had ever seen.

“Let him go, or I swear I’ll see you dead too, if I have to uproot this whole forest in the process!”

All she’d wanted to do was go south. Look how well that had worked out for her.
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#86
Tendrils striking at Ansell and his newest tormentor, Thumil rose it's arms in attempt to block them, it's attempt only resulting in it's limbs being ensnared by the rigid blood. There was a new cold fury in the creature's eyes as it pulled the tendrils taut, an immense strength one would not expect from arms looking to be made of wood. "You would have it run amok in my woods? All for the life of one?" Snorting, Thumil's horns branched around it's head, a bright glow spreading through their bark.

"You are nothing more than a pawn, not only of the idol, but of the husk as well." Arms splintering as they grew thicker all at once, Thumil let it's bundle of flowers go, a mess of petals already spilling forth from the stems. Gripping the tendrils, the glow of Thumil's horns sunk through it's features, quickly flowing into it's arms. Through it's claws, the glow entered the tendril, luminous and expanding as it raced back towards the woman. It took only a moment to reveal why the tendrils were bulging, light bursting into the open air; mushrooms, caps full and glowing like suns, grew from Thumil's hands. The bloody streams around it's arms bubbled where the mushrooms glowed, heat concentrating and scorching the tendrils away from it.

Breaking free from the tendrils, dark, dried blood stood against it's wood-flesh. Thumil hardly looked disgusted by the mess, all of it's anger directed to the woman who defied it.

"You wish to aid in the destruction of the idol?" At it's feet, the bouquet erupted in a storm of petals, just as bright as it's mushrooms, the familiar scent of sweetness and crawl of magic heavy in the air. The clearing awoke at it's magic, bursting and shining, the air soon humid from the heat of trapped sunlight.

"You can bury the corpse!" Gone was the voice of the creature, it's trap of heat and light providing a thick cover. It was but a repeat of the night before; attack, and in the chaos, flee. The clearing continued to glow, some patches looking as though a wildfire had devoured them, smoldering and blackened.

The Wildling's attack had not been an direct strike, merely a smokescreen to escape Amaris. It's trick of light had been useful, though the tendrils persisted. It was sly, yes, but not without presence. Though muddled, it would've been entirely possible to detect which of the tendrils had been disturbed in it's rush to flee. It couldn't have gone far, not far enough to-

Behind Amaris, there was a violent retch, the sickening splash of vomit followed a choking gag.

Crouched, spell of magic left to settled in the scorched grass, Ansell looked - terrible. With the absence of Thumil, it seemed the only thing keeping Ansell in a similar form was the flowers shooting through his chest and head. For the most part, Ansell had returned to his usual color, hair spilling down his back, only the ends of his braids resembling the frayed edges of his poppy. Yet the flowers remained, and bled. Purple oozed from his lips, entangling with the spittle and bile, red and white from his chest, staining his cloak an even uglier color.

Clutching the ground, Ansell heaved again, a rush of purple from his mouth, smelling of poison and blood. His face was flushed, arms trembling under his weight, the blood loss could not have been more sudden if he'd been gutted instead. Again, he heaved, the spew of purple blood adding to the mess.

When it stopped, he was a shaking, teary faced wreck, choking back sobs as he struggled to raise his head. "A-Amaris," he cried. "I think I'm sick."
 

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#87
"Even a pawn can capture a king," Amaris replied flatly, obviously not bothered by the shrub's taunting. More blood tendrils were already forming around her. To those with true power in this realm, Amaris was not particularly strong. Her attacks dealt little damage, and she knew it would not take much for her bloody bonds to shatter. What made her terrifying was her dogged determination. No one who she set her eyes on ever escaped, no matter how long that process took.

It would learn that soon enough.

Amaris had learned from her last, brief conflict with the Wildling. Her blood had been meant to bind, but it had also been meant to mark. Even it would have a hard time shedding every drop of her blood from itself, as deep as they'd wound into its body. And while she couldn't directly control the blood once it was no longer connected to her own bloodstream, that didn't mean she couldn't sense it.

"Run all you like," Amaris commented as the brilliance of the magical explosion slowly faded. "I'll be right behind you."

However, just as she was about to send another tendril of blood flying after the retreating form of the Wildling, she was brought to a halt by a pained noise coming from the clearing behind her. She winced slightly, before turning around. There was no hurry. She'd be able to find the Wildling later, but there was no point to her racing off when the reason from the hunt was sitting injured in the clearing behind her.

Amaris walked over slowly, before crouching down in front of the boy. There was concern in her eyes, but she kept her expression calm, almost comfortable. "Hey, kid," she said softly, not daring to touch him lest the nudge cause him to completely fall apart. "The Wildling's magic is still in you, but you need to get it out, okay? Like you did with the lightning last night."
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#88
That's what he was trying to do. Grimacing through the choking sensation and the dawning idea that roots were in his throat, Ansell fought back a scream as those roots grew deeper, spiny beneath his skin. He had to hurry, he had to get rid of it.

It should've been as easy as the lightning was; it should've been a breeze, it was merely flowers. But, they didn't feel right, natural. It was obvious now, even with the dizzying pulse of enchanted blood in his veins, he'd been playing with magic. For all it's usefulness, Ansell had never cared for it. His talents allowed for him to mingle with all sorts of things, magic, too, it seemed. Magic came with an unpredictable temper, quick changing and - curse it all - addictive. It all came rushing back to him, and as the memories swam in his head, another hitch in his throat and a gag of purple onto the grass.

He'd been taken, again. He came across the hunters, and then the Wildling - Thumil. The cages were his idea, but the arrows of hemlock through their heads seemed a bit much. Ansell hadn't been playing with magic when he bound the rowdy bunch, just giving a hand to the trees. Thumil offered thanks, gifted him a poppy and -

His throat burned. Raw, stripped and feeling numb all at once. The mess spilled over his hands, skin staining and feeling bee stung. Ansell shivered, eyes shut as he tried to focus on the flowers, their magic and tear it from him. And yet, he couldn't. The magic sunk into him, bone deep and stubborn. The skin around the flowers refused to return to flesh, the flowers themselves refused to stop growing, tangling around his ribs until taut.

Thank God for opium. Had it not been for that flower, Ansell doubted he'd be doing much besides scream. The roots hurt, in a detached sort of way. Ansell preferred it, he was dying after all.

"I can't," Ansell whispered, feeling not good and sleepy. "This is so weird, aren't I supposed to be getting cold?" Arms shaking under his weight, Ansell settled against the ground, falling away from the blood slick grass. "I'm not cold, just really tired." Ansell sniffled, scared. "I think I'm dying, Amaris."
 

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#89
"You're not dying," Amaris rejected immediately. She didn't know what to do for the kid. Comfort had never been one of her strong suits. She was far better at violence. But violence wouldn't help Ansell right now.

She kept her other thoughts on the matter to herself, knowing that they wouldn't offer any comfort to Ansell. Amaris wasn't stupid. It was obvious that the kid was dying. But if he did perish from Thumil's magic, Amaris would see the Wildling dead, however long it took. Violence, again. But it wouldn't help Ansell. It would be nothing more than revenge, a life for a life, with Amaris as judge, jury, and executioner.

"You said the same thing with the lightning, didn't you?" The only thing she could do right now was keep talking to him, try and give him whatever burst of motivation or trace of an idea it would take for him to spit out the magic that was strangling his system. "But you were able to get rid of that, yeah? I know you can do it again."

Gods, what else could she do? There had to be something. Her magic might be geared towards violence and death, but blood was also a life force. Humans couldn't live without it. That's what made it such a potent weapon.

A terrible idea entered her mind.

"Hey, Ansell. I'm going to... give you a bit of my blood, okay? Not a ton, just enough to try and... help hold you together." She did her best to keep her uncertainty out of her voice. This was a terrible plan. She had no idea if the mix of magics would cause Ansell to self-implode. "That alright?"
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#90
In the moment, it didn't sound like the best plan. Ansell knew he couldn't exactly trust the final thoughts in his head, not ones that were desperately trying to come to grips of his death, but Amaris didn't sound too sure herself. Ansell wasn't a doctor, or whatever that weird guy in town with all the shiny tools thought he was, but putting blood into other people seemed risky. He knew there were types of blood, even if it all the looked the same. He was never certain what his type was, or if that even mattered when he'd spent most of his life as things that didn't even have a pulse.

Strength mustering in his shoulders, Ansell gave a shrug, letting his head touch the ground. The grass felt nice, he was glad he couldn't feel the flowers growing through his temple. Couldn't feel much of anything, now. "Why not," he said, voice rasping, blood on his stinging tongue. He tried to speak again, but his throat felt terribly narrow. Must've been the roots. Gross.

He was still. For far too long, it seemed Ansell had taken his last breath, body resting while the flowers bloomed towards the sun. And then he breathed, face all the lighter for it, purple roots digging under his skin, deadly sprouts from old scars and new wounds.

A terrible quiet came over the clearing, one not even disturbed by Ansell's shallow breathing. A second eerie feeling came through, and it settled around the sick boy. The air changed around him, feeling warm, then hot, then scorching. The air rippled from the concentration of heat, drifting embers from the explosion gathering and sparking anew. Magic, not the Wildling's and not Ansell's, but feeling divine.

There was a word upon the wind, the still air turned breezy in an instant.

"Ansell."

There was still magic in the air, or at least the beginnings of it. It swirled about Ansell, air on the verge of turning to flames, yet Ansell looked as he'd been. Sparks burst through the air, catching alight and surrounding Ansell's body, the contained flares sticking to the flowers sticking from his chest. Immediately, they began to wilt, yet the magic within them changing, a force mightier than Thumil's own killer intent upon them. Burned to where they entered Ansell's flesh, the blood pooling from his chest sizzled.

The ground was taken up by the blazing power, turning hot and blackened at once, settling on Ansell's face in defined shapes. At first, points, then fingers, before one could blink there were a pair of hands on him. Fire transformed earth, godly presence forming about it's vessel, claws resting on Ansell's face with an unfamiliar gentleness. Soon came the arms, body coming together in a flurry of fire and magic. Flares jumping from a skeleton of black rock, dust to molten glass to cover it's bones, soot wrapping around it and blanketing it in grey. Wings, shimmering and aflame, curled around it's hunching form. It's maw opened, beaked and bare, eye sockets full of white fire.

One could reason that it was supposed to be a phoenix, although it's appearance seemed far too sickly to be the mighty bird of flame. Fitting, considering both Ansell and Jukheyr were soon to leave the world.

Jukheyr, a phoenix of cinders, looked up at Amaris with nothing more to say. Nothing more to beg for, it could only repeat itself.

"Help me save him. There's still time. Please."
 

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#91
Why not indeed. It wsn't as though either of them had anything to lose at this point.

With a small breath, blood began to flow from Amaris' wrists. However, rather than forming into the tight tendrils it usually made, this blood seemed to be an almost gentle stream, flowing through the air in twin ribbons before settling in around Ansell. Then they found a wound, curling around the base of a sprouted plant, and slowly slipped into his body.

Amaris had kept people alive with her blood before. It was remarkable how many different types of death could be held off if the body continued to get a clean supply of oxygenated blood. But even then, her efforts had only been a holder, intended to give people enough time until she could get them to a proper healer. In this case, Amaris was simply buying Ansell a bit more time to find a way to get the Wildling's magic out of his system.

She was just about to speak, when she suddenly felt the air begin to get hot. She breathed in quickly, wondering if Ansell had found a way to burn the magical plants from his system, when her eyes suddenly narrowed. She knew the feel of this magic. She'd fought it, and then she'd summoned it, carrying it in a golem of her own blood.

Amaris couldn't bring herself to feel surprised at Jukheyr's appearance. She'd exhausted him, she knew that. But beings were good at finding new ways to survive when their life was on the line. Amaris' eyes studied Jukheyr's withered form, and the distaste in her gaze was obvious. But...

Gods above, the kid was too weak to survive on his own. Amaris knew that. He wasn't even able to properly control lightning he'd summoned on his own, let alone being capable of fighting off the magical power of a being that clearly knew what it was doing. If Ansell didn't get help, he would die, and Amaris was incapable of giving that kind of help.

If she wanted him to survive, that meant letting this... birdbrain have its way. And wouldn't it become even more insufferable once all this was over.

Amaris looked away, but her gaze was focused on Ansell. Another ribbon of blood found an entry point to his body. "Do what you need to do," Amaris said, the words seeming almost torn from her lips. She couldn't let Ansell die, and if he lived, Jukheyr lived. That was simply the way of things.

"I'll keep him alive while you do."
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#92
Jukheyr gave a nod of understanding, not exerting the energy to echo it's intention anymore. It needed to conserve every bit of mana it could, at least long enough to save him. Ansell, Jukheyr mused over the boy's face, looking more like a wildflower bunch that any flesh and blood; the flowers continued to bloom from his body, their magic persisting despite it's efforts. Fire slowed them, but didn't destroy them, not without - burning deeper. Even within it's own memory, it just barely remembered the last time it used true magic. Perhaps lifetimes ago, but it had since outgrown the rudimentary use of the craft. It came with irony that magic was what was determined to snuff it out.

Thumil. The name burned in it's mind. It's day would come. It had been left to wander, thinking itself above Jukheyr. Go for the boy, instead of facing it with it's own pitiful spirit? Cowardly. Had isolation taken it's nerve, too?

The boy, it's vessel, it's very own Ansell. Sickened, poisoned by the audacious dryad. It's magic had grown dangerously far into his body, Ansell couldn't reject it, not with such a potent spell upon him. Jukheyr would admit, the Wildling had a clever spell. Very clever. It had to remember to treat the thing with the darkest flame it could conjure. Or maybe keep it as a pet once it trimmed the thing down to size.

Ansell would want it to live, it knew that already. He was annoyingly obsessed with protecting life, loving it in all it's hideous, wretched forms. Those noisy sheep of his, his favored caretakers, witches, and now death worshiping shrubs.

Ansell. Jukheyr's flames burst hotter for only a second, it's wings closing around Ansell's body, beak laying over his head. The boy was painfully naive, and far too trusting. He was young, unbearably weak, and -

Mine.

Now, and forever. Ansell belonged to it, he was for only it, he was...

Born for me. Promised.

To be one, to live as flesh and blood and be as a new God.

Together.

God and -

A light came from underneath Jukheyr's beak, the god's fiery stare burning brighter under the glow.

Blood.

Jukheyr rose it's head, meeting the hellish glare of it's vessel. A billow of flame snuck around it's wings, Ansell not reacting to the roll of fire. Jukheyr, however, looked stunned. It felt the flow of emotion through their link, the bond feeling cleared of the Wildling's magic. It wasn't by it's doing, but maybe...

It dipped it's head to Ansell's own, letting what burned of it's body cover his. This close, their bond felt strong again, connection burning clear of the Wildling's interference. It felt Ansell, weak but there. His blood sung in complex harmonies, magic bonded in his blood. In the same veins, Jukheyr felt the presence of Amaris in new blood, the stubborn power that surrounded her running deep in Ansell.

Jukheyr moved it's very essence with the rush of untainted blood, it's flames growing colder with Ansell's every heartbeat. His pulse carried the fresh blood into his infected system, Jukheyr extending it's power to force his body to remain, staving off death for just a while longer.

And if he survived, then what? Try as it might, chaos and death sought Ansell out at every turn, and there was only so much it could do when the boy struggled against it and had help. Thumil's hate, Amaris' disgust, Ansell's fear, look where that had gotten it. Death did not suit it, so...it had to live. Differently. Ansell could not be an enemy, not unless it suddenly became comfortable with inviting death. Ansell had to live, with it, like they should've been but were not.

But we can be different, Jukheyr spoke through the bond. We can be one.

Another presence was felt through the bond...

United.

United, Jukheyr agreed.​

Why the change of heart? I wink at the reaper and you get jealous? Jukheyr could almost see Ansell's smirk.​

Not even death can claim you. You are mine, and -

You are mine, Ansell finished. I know.

I will save you.

I know.

I will save us.
Jukheyr felt something shift in Ansell, the energy about him changing and binding it's presence to him. Ansell's dip into it's own talents came with new magic, Amaris' blood helping to strengthen the boy to fight. Ansell's power swelled, Jukheyr feeling it engulf it's presence, fire and mana all flowing into Ansell.

Untapped mana, just the raw material to change the very world. Jukheyr hadn't felt such power in years. It was more than Ansell had ever mustered, fluid in it's might and pure. The Wildling had cursed Ansell's flesh, but the magic that changed the forest, it was Ansell's own. Brought to the surface, spilling over and dangerous to them both. The roots taken hold of him, they grew on mana like plants on sunlight.

Clever shrub. Dig up the boy's mana - they'd have to talk about that later - and use a mana-hungry curse to kill him. Jukheyr clung to the foreign magic in Ansell, full of life and the distinct sting of a curse. Ansell's power shifted again, and his blood ran like a flame in his veins. A light exploded from within the cover of Jukheyr's wings, so luminous that the shape of the phoenix was lost in the glow. Sacrificed, all of it's fire and soul bleeding into Ansell, and with it's soul, came power.

His power. It was all around them, still wild, still escaping and still dangerous. It couldn't be left alone, it had to be reclaimed. The shine became greater, like an earthbound star it grew vibrant and massive, light swallowing the clearing and growing further than the border of trees. The light crept over the woods, finding it's lost magic, drawing it back, light all the brighter for it. Like a flood of starshine, it swept through the forest and gathered the chaos of the wild spell, the light expanding acre upon acre like a slow breath.

Then, like a breath, when it reached the beginning of its influence, where the forest ended in a blood soaked arrangement of trees, it reversed and came rushing back. The air grew hotter, chill of morning and fog evaporating as the light began to return. Light, wielded like a brilliant flame, followed its path back towards it's caster, eating through acres until they were but standing ash.

It soon returned to the clearing, light pulling back into the huddled forms of vessel and God, splitting harmlessly around Amaris herself and the ribbons of blood still being pulled into the light clad figure. It was a surreal scene. Light, so potent and charged by mana that it flowed into them like fire, the clean scorch not even leaving smoke from its destruction. Flashes of crimson worked into the light, wrapping closer to the dazzling body, the shape of a person emerging from the light now that enough of it had been siphoned into them.

Their wings struck out at their sides, feathers like scarlet daggers over their massive wingspan, stretching and burning hotter. Another pair came forth, shorter, spread around their torso. Then, another, settling over and hiding their legs. With all three pairs of burning wings out, the light sunk into them completely, leaving none other than Ansell floating ahead of Amaris. Looks like those wings weren't just for show.

The boy, ever the softie, carried tears in his eyes as he looked over Amaris. "You're alright," he whispered, tears falling, the superheated fluid dropping to the ground and sizzling.

All things considered, he looked well. He was undeniably changed, but not mutated. He was darker, skin looking like it'd been kissed by the sun itself, the ashen color of his sickly self a memory now. Even his stare had changed; gone was the innocence in them, they now burned like coals in his sockets, black and piercing. His hair spun in black curls down his shoulders and down his back, dark tresses now peppered with white strands that resembled Amaris' own.

Bare feet touching the ground, Ansell's wings all came around him and pressed to his flesh, their fire extinguishing as soot tattooed their shape into his skin, only his lowest pair remaining around his waist for modesty. It transformed, flame turning to a ruffled membrane that twisted around his lower half, upper body left bare to the elements. Ansell didn't have far to go to reach Amaris, but he was there instantly, invading her space with his blazing presence.

"You're okay!" Ansell's voice broke at the end, sizzling tears rolling off his cheeks. "I was so scared Thumil was going to hurt you, God, I don't even know why it was trying to hurt me!" Pressing a hand to his head, Ansell scraped a sharp talon over his brow, closing his eyes as he shook his head. "I...really don't know anything, to tell you the truth. I don't even know why I'm still, uh," Ansell gave a nervous glance to Amaris, face quite literally burning.

"Well, I guess that was your doing," Ansell joked, a weak chuckle coming from him. "And...it, I guess." Ansell looked down to his hands, fingers ending in talons and white-hot at their tips. "Sure picked the worst time to turn over a new leaf, didn't you?"

A smokeless burst of fire came from Ansell's chest, tattoos of soot turning into living fire, Jukheyr's essence filling it and pulling away from Ansell's skin. The flame became a phoenix, a healthy one, just tiny.

"Our circumstances have changed, so we have to change. To remain how we were is to accept death, to better ourselves is to challenge it."

Ansell gave the tiny phoenix a scrutinizing glare, dipping into their bond to see just how honest the God was being. As it turned out, a lot. They had changed, in all the ways how, Ansell supposed they would just have to wait and see.

Ansell narrowed his eyes and hummed. "Okay, then." He'd see how long Jukheyr would keep up this act, if it meant it would listen to him now, he was all for it. But he didn't count on it.

Ansell brought his hands together, fiddling claws with claws. "So," he started, avoiding the stares of Jukheyr and Amaris. "What now?"
 
Last edited:

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#93
Amaris couldn't watch whatever Jukheyr was doing to try and heal Ansell. Even if she'd tried, the light would sear her eyes in moments. And while they'd restore just as quickly, that doesn't mean they'd actually be able to capture any images. So Amaris didn't bother. She closed her eyes, burying one side of her face into her shoulder, and focused on continuing to channel a steady stream of blood into Ansell, pumping it through his veins even as his body shifted, to keep his cells alive.

All the same, she could feel Ansell's body change, even if she couldn't see it. Several tendrils of blood was all that connected the bloodwitch to the boy as he slowly floated into the air, and his body began to restructure itself, heal from all the damage the Wildling had done. She maintained the connection stubbornly, doggedly, until she heard Ansell's voice and finally opened her eyes.

The kid looked good. Healthy. Certainly alive. Of course, he now seemed as much fire as she'd seen him be lightning and plant, and she couldn't help but wonder what crazy adventure they were going to have to go through to get him back to normal again. It seemed to her that they'd gone through this cycle far too many times in the past twenty four hours. Hopefully after all this was over, the kid would be able to go home and actually stay there long enough for Amaris to start heading south again.

"You fool," Amaris scolded, although there was a trace of affection in your voice. "Of course I'm okay. How long is it going to take you to figure out that I can't be killed? That stupid shrub couldn't do anything to me, and you really should know that by now." But, for all the supposed venom in her words, she smiled at the end of them. She certainly couldn't begrudge the kid his kindness. That's what had sent her after him, in the end.

Then again, maybe if he wasn't so concerned about other people, he wouldn't have gotten into any of these problems to begin with.

Amaris turned her gaze towards Jukheyr, her gaze just as suspicious as Ansell's. She hadn't heard the conversation that had happened between the boy and the bird, but she could almost feel it. A tempering, of sorts. The arrogance was still there, of course it was, but some of the egoism and narcissism had apparently been burned off, at least for a little while.

Maybe Amaris' plan to separate the boy from the birdbrain had worked, at least somewhat. It certainly didn't seem like Jukheyr was intending to immediately return to tormenting Ansell, at the very least.

"Now," Amaris answered, her gaze shifting for the third time. This time, her ghostly blue eyes were locked on the damaged trees, or perhaps beyond them. "The birdbrain and I have to go set a particular shrub on fire, I believe."
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#94
Under Amaris' brief, perhaps even half-hearted scolding, Ansell's face darkened intensely; volcanic veins showed under his skin, pulsing magma lighting up his cheeks. "I know," Ansell sheepisly whispered, barely audible under Amaris' harsh reminder. He knew, for goodness' sake, he'd seen it. Her death by his reckless lightning strike had kept him up, despite Jukheyr's nagging that he stop his lamenting. It had returned to the quiet of his mind in a huff, refusing to share it's side of their bond, keeping what had happened in the night from him. It wasn't hard to put everything together, not when Thumil had made it clear what it's intention was.

"I know," Ansell said again, his voice actually grazing above a squeak. Face luminous with a living flame, Ansell hugged his arms, claws landing dully against his stony flesh. "That doesn't mean I like seeing you get hurt." Staring at the ashen ground, Ansell bit his lip, numbly pushing at the shiny scar marring it. "Not for me, you don't deserve that."

Jukheyr made a sound of disgust, feathers losing their shape as it sunk into itself, becoming but a figment of wild fire. Floating, white flames that stretched in all directions, it's shape returning with a crackle. "She lives, isn't that what matters?" Ansell flinched back at the bite in it's tone, and, for all of a moment, Jukheyr's flames shrunk back.

"She should've never been involved," Ansell spoke slowly, raising his stare and hardening his eyes at the tiny firebird. "And I know you brought her back here. Why? This was never her problem, it was ours an- and you pulled her back into it!" Ansell fumed, literally. Dark wisps of smoke rose from his hair, face only growing hotter from his flaring temper.

For all his fight, Jukheyr had never been one to back down, more so when it was in the wrong - from Ansell's point of view. He was young, and youth came with the weakness of a soft heart. It seemed not even death could change that about him.

"So would you had preferred getting the life choked out of you by that weed? Don't be so foolish, boy, your so-called keeper means to kill you."

Ansell hesitated, words building at his tongue, kept at bay by his clenched teeth. In his hesitation, Jukheyr jumped at his silence.

"I am their target, you are merely an obstacle. If it is not caught, and killed, we will not be enough to sate it. How many hunters have been fed to those hounds? How many people torn to shreds, how many, Ansell?"

For each act of violence Jukheyr brought up, Ansell's resolve weakened that much more, backing away as the phoenix crowded his space. The smoke billowing from him fed into the God, it's body growing darker, flames burning with an ebony edge to them. The transfer of energy was obvious, palpable and continuous. Jukheyr grew in size, and Ansell shrunk back in fear.

"Jukhey-"

"You've seen the carnage, don't pretend like it's changed. It's gotten worse, the lost townsfolk have turned to corpses left to rot, if there's anything else behind. You don't believe that those hunters can stop it, do you? They can't even handle it's pets, let alone get near it."

"I don't- I know the-"

"It's very home surrounds yours, Ansell. What happens when it comes for you, for your family? What then? It is a cruel master, Ansell. It's control of you would be the end of the town, it nearly was today." Ansell was cornered, he couldn't go anywhere, not with Jukheyr spreading around him, an oppressive heat that sunk into his bones. It had grown massive, fury and fire given form by the stolen power it took from Ansell. It crept into Ansell's space, staring him down, devouring the magic that poured from him.

"What happens when you become the knife to their throats, Ansell? When I am fading again and-"

Glistening, molten tears dropped and sizzled, Jukheyr's flame turning inward and bolting back in a rush of smoke, peering at Ansell in stunned quiet. Ansell was crying, glass tears falling off his face, sinking deep into the earth. "I-I ju-just don't want anyone t-to get hurt." He choked out.

Jukheyr looked ready to explode, a trembling, furious wake of fire that blew apart and reformed in front of Amaris all at once. "Amaris, do something!" It demanded, barely containing itself from erupting again. "Make him stop!"
 

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#95
For the second time in as many minutes, Amaris found herself agreeing with Jukheyr, much to her frustration. It wasn't that she would purposefully change her opinion or behavior in protest to agreeing with the birdbrain, it just wrankled her to know they were on the same side.

All the same, she wished that Ansell would stop worrying about her. Compared to some of the stuff she'd been through in fulfilling her oaths and deaths, the fights she'd gone through at Ansell's side were small change. Obviously the kid didn't have the same level of perspective on it as she did, but she genuinely wished he'd listen to her when she said it didn't matter, and stop wasting time for it. Her blood was, almost literally, the cheapest commodity in the world. It came in infinite supply, at no cost.

But repeating herself wouldn't do any good, and Jukheyr had already steered the conversation towards the real problem, tracking down and stopping Thumil before he had a chance to try anything else.

But, hardly to her surprise, the birdbrain was proving just as inept at persuasion as he had at just about everything else Amaris had seen it do so far. It couldn't fight, it couldn't threaten anyone harder to intimidate than a scared kid, and it certainly couldn't get people to do what it wanted through any method other than bullying.

"What did you expect to get?" Amaris all but snapped back when Jukheyr turned to her. "Yelling at him like that. Gods above."

All the same, Amaris strode forward, pushing through the haze of smoke without concern to stop in front of Ansell.

"Hey," she said softly, trying to be gentle. Right now, after facing down a manipulative shrub and an irate bird, he probably needed a little kindness. "You're a good person, Ansell. I think the world would be a much better place if there were more people like you. But sometimes, there are simply different sides."

As though to illustrate her point, Amaris held out her hands, one on either side of her body. "And, for one reason or another, they're irreconcilable. Thumil is a Wildling, a master of savage land. The world he rules isn't one where humans can survive. Both sides are fighting, in a way, for their own survival. For that reason, conflict is inevitable."

It had been a long time since Amaris last got so philosophical. She was a fighter, not a scholar. Generally, she'd punch something before she tried to explain herself. She'd seen enough of the world that philosophy often seemed pointless to her. But Ansell was so young, so innocent. He knew so little of the cruelty of the world, even after suffering through Jukheyr's torment for who knew how long.

"When the time comes, you can either pick a side, or stay out of the fight altogether. Sticking yourself in the middle, it won't accomplish anything but make both sides hate you. And even if you succeed for a bit, if you stop one battle, it won't stop the war. It'll just start again the moment you aren't in the way."

Amaris glanced to the side, her eyes pinning down Jukheyr. Her gaze was cold and hard, warning the phoenix to stay out of their conversation. She didn't need him yelling and mucking up the conversation. Then, her eyes were back on Ansell.

"And now... now it's time to make a choice, Ansell. Pick a side, or do nothing and watch them fight. So, what do you want to do?"
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both.
Favorite Genres
Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#96
Even with all his weeping, and swarming thoughts of what Jukheyr said coming to pass, Thumil getting control of him and having him - Ansell knew this tactic all too well. It's what Jukheyr always did, and every time he fell for it. It was hard, if not impossible, to win an argument with someone who quite literally knew what he was thinking. Of course, the fear of Thumil taking him again was heavy on his mind, and it didn't help that's what Jukheyr was using against it.

But Lord, it was just embarrassing to be crying his eyes out in front of Amaris. Call him childish, but he wanted to at least pretend to be tough in front of her. That was a thing of the past, but at least he could cry it all out; no use stopping now. Except...

Hiccuping and forcing himself to stop sobbing, Ansell kept himself to frequent sniffling as Amaris stood in front of him. Immediately, he felt churning bile in his throat, throwing his teary stare to the ground. He caught the sight of Amaris' hands at her side as she took to explaining the nature of the things, despite how much he didn't want to hear it. He was more childish than he'd care to admit, but he wasn't without sense. Ansell had known of Thumil's growing appetite for reclaiming the lost land for some time, long before the hounds had come. Jukheyr had taken to ignoring it, deeming the Wildling's lack of appearances as proof of it's cowardice. Not cowardice, Ansell had found out, merely biding it's time.

Had it been successful in killing him, what then? Amaris would've been long gone, and with neither of them present, Ilsworth's destruction would've been all but assured. Even now, with him back to health, Thumil seemed determined to continue it's plan. Only, it couldn't. Whether or not they cared about Ilsworth itself, or it was just the pleasure of revenge from hunting it, Amaris and Jukheyr were going to kill Thumil.

Ansell kept his head low and listened to Amaris, tears slowly coming to an end, wiping away the molten glass from his cheeks. Finally raising his head, Ansell met Amaris' gaze, Jukheyr's flaming presence behind her not missed. He tried not to let it's own sizzling glare intimidate him; this was his decision, just as Jukheyr's choice was violence.

Ansell held his hands together, talons falling on each other. He gripped his wrist as he answered Amaris.

"I'm not going." Ansell said, cringing as Jukheyr let out a sound of disbelief, the temperature around them racing higher. "I don't know why Thumil is doing this, but I can't bring myself - I can't just-" Ansell breathed, trying to resist the ebb of glass in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jukheyr fed on the heat sparking to life in the air, it's body still a wild, agitated inferno. Smoke caught around it, twisting along it's flickering flame. Ansell looked ready to melt under it's stare when it finally relented. "Then make good on your word, boy. Stay here."

Ansell sighed heavily, legs bending until he was sitting. Crossing his arms, Ansell shot a moment's glance to the phoenix. "Fine," he muttered.

Jukheyr's flames endured, head snapping towards the direction of Thumil's escape. "Should those mutts find you-"

"I'll be fine," Ansell said again, a firmer tone in his voice. "I won't let get to town, so i-it's better if I stay here anyway." In a flash of light, Ansell brought forth his wings, the delicate fire made material playing tricks with the catch of sunlight. "I'm pretty sure I'm, uh, fast enough."

Jukheyr's beak twisted up bitterly, then turned it's eyes back to the standing woods. "Amaris, after it. I'll - follow you." One could almost see the process behind Jukheyr's words, avoiding behind harsh wasn't like it, but Ansell wouldn't say anything.

"Amaris," Ansell said, letting his wings settle against the ground. "Please be careful, okay?"
 

Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
SITE SUPPORT
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fairly aggressive. I'm perfectly happy to guide the story, but if your posts never move the plot forward at all, then we'll have a problem.
Favorite Genres
Modern fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by high fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not a big fan of purely realistic stories. I want something more than real life in my plots please!
#97
Amaris nodded, her gaze turning to the forest at almost the same time as Jukheyr. She knew full well that the hunt wasn't for everyone. Plenty of people had hired her precisely because they didn't want to be the ones to get their hands dirty. She didn't blame Ansell for his reluctance.

She started to move towards the deeper forest, when Ansell's final sentence brought her to a halt. She turned around and smiled slightly at him. "I will," she promised. "It'll all be fine, Ansell. You'll see. Stay safe."

And then, without further ado, she was off, white hair swallowed up a moment later by dark green shrubs.

Amaris wound through the trees with the grace of a deer, her eyes constantly trained ahead. The smell of her own blood lured her deeper and deeper into the trees, even without any path to follow.

It was clear that Thumil had finally given up on his taunting game. In fact, if it wasn't for Amaris' blood acting like a homing beacon, she doubted she would have been able to find the shrub. The forest was his home, after all, his sanctuary. Under normal circumstances, if he wanted to hide from her, Amaris would have to fight the whole forest before she'd be able to track him down.

But, between her beacon and Thumil's own weakness after Ansell broke free, there was little he could do to stop her now. Amaris' path was far from straight, and if she hadn't known better, she might have thought she was going in circles. But, every step she took brought her a step closer to her target.

Amaris didn't worry about Jukheyr, either. The birdbrain's assistance was welcome, but she didn't consider it necessary, beyond acting as a measure of extra insurance against Thumil's trickery. All the same, Amaris was able to feel the heat on her back from Jukheyr's fire phoenix, and she knew that the spirit was keeping perfect pace with her. It appeared that Jukheyr was as eager for this fight as she was.

Amaris slowed as she and Jukheyr began to draw close to the foot of the mountain. They were several hours away from Ilsworth at this point, deep into the Wildling's territory. Amaris could hear the Hounds growling in the shadows, but she ignored them and the other monsters. They weren't going to distract her from her goal.

"We're close," Amaris said softly to Jukheyr, before once more turning her gaze towards the depths of the forest.

"Thumil!" she called an instant later, louder this time. "You should have figured out by now that you can't run anymore. Are you going to come out, or do we need to continue this game of cat and mouse?"
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
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Not really a fan of nonfiction.
#98
A rolling sensation came about the air, the trees bending with the swift wind coming from the darkness. The sensation doubled back, the roar of Jukheyr's flames fighting the current, unyielding to the deliberate press of wind.

Then, came a sound. Echoing, simultaneously around the hunting pair and beckoning from beyond the trees.

"No, running from you would be pointless, would it not?"
Thumil's voice was near, it's rasp coming from just ahead of the tangled shrubs.

"Do not think yourself clever, witch, your vile trick did not go unnoticed."

The sun was high above the mountain, a cascade of sunshine bleeding into the dark pockets of the forest. Yet, in the space ahead of them, sunlight fell and was lost to darkness. The trees continued to bend under the onslaught of wind, Jukheyr edging closer towards Amaris' side as the winds felt cutting.

"And neither did yours, Jukheyrthileth."

Along the forest floor, the expanding caps of mushrooms grew into pale luminescence. As the sun crept from behind the clouds, the fungi grew brighter, their appearance outlining a lounging silhouette. Thumil's horns ran gold with the channeling of it's magic, the narrow of it's eyes apparent from the glow that had filled it's body.

"Neither of you learn very well. The boy is alone, again, what makes you confident I simply cannot-"​

Jukheyr screeched it's amusement, the swell of it's flame catching the close branches alight, it's mass growing around the tree, swallowing the smoke and burning black for it. The stain of smoke moved to the tips of it's wings, raising far above the treetops, it's fiery laughter beginning to swallow the woods.

"You really believe you'll get past him? Have you lost your mind in these woods, you little imp?" Jukheyr cackled. "He fought you with roots in his head, you weed. Your beasts die with him, and you-" Jukheyr's wings rose higher and exposed it's talons, the very moisture in the air fried around them. "Burn with us."

Thumil held it's silence at the threat, it's shape still clearly against the mushrooms. A slow, breathing movement ran through the surrounding forest, the palable draw of energy returning to Thumil. The arcane carvings in it's horns on stark display, the tension in the air building to a fever.

"Ilsworth shall fall, idol," Thumil swore. "That pathetic husk will die at my hand, and your follower will suffer a thousand deaths before I am through with her!" The Wildling thundered, the wind a slashing zephyr, Jukheyr settled over Amaris to shield her from the frantic air.

Jukheyr snorted a haze of smoke. "I've always hated that mouth of yours."

The wind sung with the weaving of mana, droplets starting to come down with the whirling gusts. "It'll banish you." Thumil glared against Jukheyr's scoff.

"You're welcome to try."

Again, Thumil thought in silence, the very air shifting against the duo. "Okay." The instantaneous swell of ozone and peculiar zig-zag of rain crashed onto Jukheyr, a boiling cloud emerging from it as it reeled back, thrown away from Amaris and into a thicket. Trees and ground alike smoke and burst under it's impact, smoldering branches consumed by it's ravenous flame. Jukheyr collected itself, and and the cooled parts of it, pricking feathers back to untold heights.

It swelled and ate a swatch of the woods, and burst towards Thumil, a rocketing comet that soared over the debris of it's crash. Thumil's spell kicked out again, water pulled from every thing plentiful in it. Trees groaned, ground cracked with the sudden draw of moisture. Jukheyr's heat was against it's bark.

Foolish.

The air became still around Thumil, crystals grew in dense shape around it, cold sinking into the hallow and breathing out at once. The air shimmered with diamond dust, remaining even as the air whistled with Jukheyr's approach. Thumil pushed at it's spell, the crackle of ice flitting from it's fingertips, steam breaking around it let go.

The clash of fire and ice was spectacular. Pressure from both sides obliterated the terrain, a fierce eruption that would've busted eardrums splintered the ground, chunks of earth enveloped in the liquefying flame or shattering cold.

Jukheyr recollected itself in the air, looking for Amaris and the Wildling at once. It was in it's best interest, Jukheyr told itself. Amaris was helpful; her regeneration was pesky and they needed to keep Thumil busy. Besides, Ansell wanted the witch safe for whatever reason.

"Amaris, keep your eye on it." It warned from the air, eyes still raking the chaos for the telltale glow of - there. "Quicker than it looks."

Through the fire and ice, a glow reflected off the ice, Jukheyr tracking the light to a fissure in the ground, golden light bursting forth in a liquid spill. It was like a geyser, launched at itself, at Amaris.

"Amaris-!" Jukheyr began to screech, then remembered. "Stay on my tail!" Air rippling with the force of it's takeoff, Jukheyr soared at the wet burst of magic, igniting it's wings and crying aloud as it pushed it's fire hotter, cutting through the force - until it couldn't.

Jukheyr suddenly yanked back, only to find it was stuck. Trapped. The liquid had turned gummy, smothering the flame of the phoenix and keeping it writhing in the warming muck of the spell.

Thumil stood among flames on the ground, it's left side of hands rose to the sky, pillar of magic molding around Jukheyr. "You're such a boring fight, idol." Thumil snapped it's fingers, three snaps responding to each stretch of the pillar freezing around Jukheyr. Flame trapped in what looked to be golden crystal, Jukheyr didn't move a feather. Or rather, couldn't.

Bubbling gold fell around it's feet, Thumil's hands showing veins of the same liquid, the underside of it's body oozing the fluid in droves. "Witch," Thumil stated, eyes weeping the strange ichor. It cut a hand through the air, and the gold leapt at her. "Drown."
 
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Peregrine

Waiting for Wit
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#99
For several long moments, in the clash between the Wildling and Jukheyr, Amaris was completely forgotten. Under normal circumstances, Amaris would have been quick to take such behavior as contempt, an insult to her very presence. However this time, unusually, Amaris was perfectly content to see herself be ignored. She wasn't going to be the front fighter in this conflict, not if she wanted the fight to end in a reasonable length of time. No, this time, Amaris was in charge of containment.

Blood cascaded from her wrists, covering the ground around her feet before flowing away, beat after beat after beat. Out of sight of the conflict of ice and fire, the blood began to form into a gossamer wall, digging deep into the ground and rising above the trees. Slowly it spread, circling around from behind Amaris, until it had looped in around behind Thumil as well. Every second, the seemingly fragile curtain of woven blood grew thicker and stronger. By the time Jukheyr moved in front of Amaris, blocking Thumil's flood of golden liquid, Amaris allowed a smile to pass over her lips.

Even with this forest being his domain, Thumil was going to have a hard time breaking himself out of this trap.

Not that the stupid shrub seemed to be planning to run. It didn’t seem as though he’d even noticed that Amaris was far more focused on keeping him from trying to escape than she was on watching his fight with Jukheyr.

However, a moment later Amaris’ concentration was somewhat broken as she heard a pitiable shriek from Jukheyr. Amaris couldn’t help but frown slightly as she looked ahead and saw the phoenix all but smothered by the rapidly hardening golden liquid.

“Honestly...” Amaris muttered, still barely paying attention to Thumil. For all his boasting, the birdbrain had let himself get captured way too easily. Of course, it didn’t occur to the bloodwitch that a portion of the reason for Jukheyrs pitiable situation was because he had been trying to protect her.

As the golden tide surged closer and closer to her, Amaris finally turned to lock eyes with the Wildling. Just before she was swallowed in the amber sap, a word shaped on Amaris’ lips.

“Foolish.”

Wasn’t this what the shrub was always saying? Did it really think something like that would be able to hold her? If it did, the Wildling knew far too little.

The golden sap swallowed her a moment later, before immediately beginning to harden. For one moment, Amaris’ still form was visible through the distortion of amber. However, an instant later, red threads began to spread from where Amaris was standing. The needle sharp strands pierced through the hardened sap with ease, spreading through the stone in fractal patterns. An instant later, and they shook, before the trap exploded into a shower of golden shards.

However, the tendrils didn’t stop there, pushing deeper and deeper into the amber, before gathering around Jukheyr. A second later, and the hardened sap around Jukheyr broke as well, once more freeing the phoenix.

This time, it was Amaris’ turn to go on the offensive. As Jukheyr struggled out of its former prison, the sharp needles of blood turned towards Thumil, before filling the air as they flew towards him.

Amaris had the feeling, with Jukheyrs help or without it, this was going to be a long fight.
 

Ragamoofin

Candle Goblin
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Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
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Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
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I'm here whenever you need me, my dude.
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I'm fine with both.
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Uh, let's see. Fantasy, magical, drama, fluff. The usual.
Genre You DON'T Like
Not really a fan of nonfiction.
Heavy rivets fell off the sides of the melting pillar of sap, Jukheyr's flames free to taste air and burn hot again. Predictably, the temporary trap hadn't done much to persuade it's temper, that much was clear from the wildfire that it drew strength from. Jukheyr's talons found a perch on the bubbling sap, the still possessed ichor fighting to swarm around the phoenix, Jukheyr's exuded heat preventing it from reaching it again.

"I would've melted through in seconds," Jukheyr squawked cheekily, disregarding Amaris' quick rescue. Whether or not it was true, she'd saved it from a few more miserable moments. So...

"...Thanks." Jukheyr muttered quietly, focus back onto Thumil. All at once, it's cockiness came flooding into it's features, spreading it's wings far above the trees thanks to it's high perch. In the intense light, Jukheyr caught the flash off glistening walls, raising up behind the canopies. Jukheyr spared a glance to Amaris, spying the streaming crimson from her wrists. For all it's insults, Jukheyr had to give the witch some validation in her skills. She was a very observant hunter, and perhaps she knew there were some ways to claim victory than brute force.

Thumil still fought, even with the two of them fully engaged. It had yet to turn tail, but how long would that courage hold up?

Long enough, it seemed. With the tide of sap failing to keep Amaris for more than a instant, Thumil's fury cut at her with a sudden pop, fingers working symbols into the howling wind. Sunlight fell against the mushrooms of it's nest, caps growing all too bright and full, the loamy earth beneath them shooting up in rough collections of minerals. Glass-like, dark quartz covered the mushrooms, sunbeams filtering through it and catching in odd angles in the quartz.

Thumil stared out at the vision of red, teeth baring against it's face, the force of it's influence pulling even the ichor leaking from it's body back towards it. It wouldn't risk the chance of hosting anymore of Amaris' cursed blood, but as for it's own spell, she could bare the full blunt of that.

The air twisted about, attempting to shove the bloody rain apart, Thumil's sap responding with all the speed of the wind when it couldn't budge them. Curse the witch, curse her blood and her false god.

The hail struck, solidly. Still digging into the barrier, the blood had been caught by the crystallizing sap, Thumil separating what had touched Amaris' blood at once from it's running supply. Expanding, compressing, the sap bubbled and solidified as it was launched back at Amaris, following the same path of her assault. It was a liquid, churning thing, pulsing larger and larger, bursting out in a heavy rain of spikes at the witch when it neared her.

Looking away from her, the Wildling caught the phoenix on it's perch, it's face twisting into a frown at it's laxness. "Predictable," Thumil groaned, the growing light of it's crystals blanketing in a snowy aura. "You were always so simple, Jukheyrthileth." Sunlight danced around it, a iridescent haze floating above ground around it's spawned quartz. "Your battles lack design, in your powers there is only..." Thumil took a heartbeat to think, looking away from the phoenix, eyes cast to the sky. To the sun.

"Chaos."

Steadying it's talons, wings held low against the pillar, looking more like a decrepit candle than a prison, Jukheyr took off from the perch, soaring upward. A brilliant trail of fire was left in it's wake, the air exciting to volcanic pitches. A mirage enveloped it, the sight of the phoenix untrustworthy as it gathered it's power from the atmosphere. Heat was omnipresent, trees burst into flames, swallowed by golden sap and wrestling tirelessly against the God's fire.

Channeled through the air, a bone-rattling sound broke through the hissing air.

"Don't tell me that's the last of your tricks, imp. If you've brought me out here, you had better pack more than rancid amber!"

Thumil's reaction was a deeply physical thing, the sky lighting up with the workings of it's old magic. The wind was a stubborn pressure against Jukheyr, as if the Wildling sought to bring down a hurricane beneath the mountain. Jukheyr flinched against the drip - drip - splash of stormwater, coming down far too hard to be natural.

Jukheyr detected a rise of heat and evaporating rain before something solid struck it, light filling it's senses and tearing into it -

An explosion filled the sky, a remaining glimmer of moonlight amid the burst of fire.

Crystals caught and bent the sunlight around the Wildling, it's slow steps supported by the crawl of sap oozing up from the ground. Humming, charged with mana, Thumil's mushrooms floated about it's body, their crystal coat absorbing every bit of the sun's light Those mushrooms were getting to be annoying, and this golden species didn't seem all that different from the ones in the clearing. The bending of light was a dangerous thing, even sunlight wasn't safe under the hand of Thumil.

Hands carving through the air, fingers dancing on the surface of the crystals, they regained their vibrancy and took aim at Amaris.

"Please, tell me you are not a one trick caster." Crystal shone like stars, the forest lost in a lull of yellow, harsh light washing through them and firing. Thin, like plasma, moonlights sought Amaris out. In the fire engulfed edge of their battleground, the ground shook with the latest impact of Jukheyr.
 
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