"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
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Post by Elkeid on Mar 24, 2014 13:03:12 GMT
When Elkeid woke up this morning, she had not planned on harassing people into buying her brew, but that was the beautiful thing about spontaneity: it opened doors, even at the expense of your reputation or someone else's well-being. Since this wasn't the "real world" and Elk's career as an interior designer was not at stake (and she cared little for random passerby), the woman did not rethink the idea that sprang up on her while she was enjoying her morning coffee. Gold was an important commodity in this world, just like in the previous one. It bought food, and most importantly, gear, both of which she would need to keep her sanity and health at stable levels. And how did people make money? By killing monsters for chump change, fulfilling quest requirements for People of the Land, and selling their wares.
The man she normally bought her coffee from looked uncomfortable when the woman started to chuckle quietly to herself. In all the time she had been coming here, he had never seen her so much as crack a smile. Seeing her laugh now was almost horrifying. It did not help matters that that small laugh had an ominous ring to it, either. The man did not dare to ask her to let him in on the joke. He brought her her mug, took her gold coins and scurried back to his counter. 'It's going to be warm today, too,' Elk thought as she sipped her coffee, which was how she also liked her men: black and strong. Elkeid herself would have disagreed and said that she had no real preference when it came to a man's skin color or physical strength, but her narrator thinks that would ruin a perfectly good joke, you technical neepwit.
The monk flitted away from the shop soon after, straight in the direction of the Cathedral. What better place was there to extort high priced drinks from fellow Adventurers? It was warm, and they would surely be thirsty after pulling a Leeroy Jenkins into the inescapable pit that is death. Elk did not even have to bring her own stall; there was an unattended one in the vicinity of the Cathedral, and the person manning it was too chickenshit to stand up for himself.
With a complete lack and care for subtlety, Elkeid moved her commandeered stall closer to the building of resurrection and prayer. Anyone who wanted to enter or exit the building would have to pass by her first, and she would make it her business to entertain them with a cool and refreshing beverage. It was foolproof, but her position would be useless if she did not make a batch to force upon people like an uncircumcised phallus.
Elkeid produced a few lemons, a simple pitcher of water, and some British snow. She used one of her cheap throwing knives to slice the lemons, and squeezed the sour juice from each into the pitcher. It wasn't until she was topping off some small cups with snow that she realized she lacked sugar. Elk stared long and hard at her cups for a moment, and then pulled out a small flask of questionable liquid. The stuff she was pouring into the cups was from her personal stash of alcohol, and was the weaker equivalent of tequila. When you were a Brewer with an already high tolerance to the Devil's nectar, you sometimes forgot how trashed many people could get with a single shot. It would, at least, be fun to watch a bunch of strangers stagger about like drunks before noon.
A crude little sign board was placed in front of her stand, bearing the words: "Comfort and refreshment station." To make her stand even more appealing to onlookers, Elkeid undid the top button of her blouse, giving God and the entire world an immodest view of her pale and slender neck, as well as a bit of her collarbone. She was of the opinion that her legs were also damn fine, but showing them off for the sake of lemonade was just tacky.
Even after all of her precautions, however, her first customer of the day somehow missed that she was standing in front of him, and even moved to walk around her stall. Elkeid quickly flagged the man down in a perfectly conducted employee to customer handshake - by placing her hand around his throat and hoisting him into the air. "You look parched, sir. Can I offer you a cool and refreshing beverage?" Needless to say, that guy bought a cup and left a nicely sized tip, too! [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:770Muse: Money for NothingNotes:Ye.Tags:@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2014 14:35:26 GMT
Status: Healthy / Rested
Mood: Alone with Me, Myself, and IA man ran past 0XF0RD as he was walking towards the Cathedral, clutching what looked to be like a cup filled with a yellow-colored liquid.
Oh Lord, please let that have been lemonade.
The last thing Elder Tales needed was a crazy deranged man running around with cups full of urine. Things were chaotic enough already.
Shaking the thought from his head, 0XF0RD continued on towards the Cathedral, making a note of it's location in his notebook about it's location, structure type, direction the entrance/exit points, and other little persnickety information that only a detail-obsessed person cares about.
Wanting to get a quick sketch of it, 0XF0RD moved closer towards the entrance. That's when he noticed...her. A brown-haired, green-eyed beauty stood before him, running what looked to be an improvised refreshment stand, judging by the simplicity of the sign.
Why would a woman with a pair of legs as fine as those be stuck standing at a stall all day? 0XF0RD thought to himself.
Other thoughts, more...pressing thoughts, began to fill his head as he looked at this well-endowed woman and her stand:
- Is she the local purveyor of lemonade, or is she part of a new conglomerate? - How much does it cost to run this stand? - Is she making a profit? What does she do when the Adventurers don't have any money upon coming out of the Cathedral? What if they lost it all? Is there a credit system? - Is she single? - What does the 'Comfort' in 'Comfort and Refreshment Station' mean, anyway?
All were written into the pages at the back of the notebook. That way, should anyone flip through it, it would remain hidden (probably, unless the person reading it was the kind that starts at the back to figure out how a book ends).
He chuckled to himself as he wrote these things down, as he knows that he would never be able to approach a woman like her. Back in the real world, these were the kind of women that most young men dream about, but would never attain unless they were some sort of snobbish, rich playboy. 0XF0RD was a programmer, for God's sakes. That's at the complete other end of the 'Attractive Male Qualities' spectrum.
After getting his sketch of the Cathedral, he went ahead and penciled in the lady with her stand, probably the only memory he'll have of her. Snapping the notebook shut, 0XF0RD readjusted his glasses and stood there, figuring out what landmark to visit next. |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
|
Post by Elkeid on Mar 24, 2014 17:32:32 GMT
Elk thought she had everything worked out, and was even making a bit of a profit. The only problem was that her supply of customers was steadily decreasing, though she suspected that the small crowd that followed her first customer were in the same group. Either people were playing it safe or they were being far too stubborn to roll over and die. She would be forced to move if this continued, or…
It was a very morbid thought, but she could ensure that the customers came by killing them. But then, who would watch her stall, and who could she possibly talk into playing the role of hitman? And was this even moral? Probably not. It seems that most people were visited by the reaper in the dead of the night or early evening. Elk also took breaks for breakfast and dinner into account. If she wanted to extort people for money, it would have to be early in the morning and at night. For now, she wondered if she should close her "shop" for a few minutes and take a much deserved break, or wait and give people a few more chances to keel over.
That idea was quickly thrown out of the window when she noticed a human looking man (there were no signs of fur, tails or archaic tattoos etched over his body) lurking near the entrance of the Cathedral. She must have missed him while she was shaking down that group of Fox-tails for their hard earned gold or items, since some of them were sadly too poor. This man was busy scribbling something into his notebook, which Elk thought was mighty suspicious. Was he some sort of self-proclaimed inspector? She thought he looked a little too young to be one, but she had thought the same of that small girl (and was correct) sampling brews at the Chinese New Year festival.
It was a good thing that Elk knew how to fake being social and friendly. Forced smiles were never her thing, though. Imagining Blackcoat in a maid's outfit did wonders, however. The corner of her mouth twitched up a few centimeters, forming a lopsided smirk on her face. She stuffed some British snow into a cup and poured the lemonade / tequila mixture over it. The stall was abandoned as she strode towards the man, subtly moving her hips from side to side. The art of flirting was a simple one she had picked up years ago and used to her advantage.
She came to a stop just a few paces from the scribbler, who was taller up close. This was a nice change of pace from the short men she usually met. "Hello, dear," she said with a false sweetness that made her head ache. "Can I interest you in a drink?" She gave a habitual jerk of her head, causing her long locks to shift out of her face and to the side. "Sketch artists - and writers - have been known to skip meals and neglect hydration once they are deeply engrossed in something." Elk was guilty of doing the same, and had oft subsisted on nothing but cigarettes and coffee during crunch time. She offered the drink up to the man, her eyes trying to resist the urge to sneak a peek at the contents of his notebook. Instead, she decided to be direct. "Were you collecting information on the Cathedral - if you don't mind me asking?" Smooth, Elk. Smooth like vodka. [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:584Muse: Major TomNotes:Why do I include this section?Tags:@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2014 19:01:57 GMT
Status: Healthy / Rested
Mood: Spirited Stimulus0XF0RD was lost in thought, staring at the birds' path as they flew through the sky. He jumped when he heard a woman's voice directly in front of him. 0XF0RD began to feel a little flustered when he saw the woman from the stall standing in front of him, holding a cup of lemonade. The wind
Closer examination of the woman revealed that her username was 'Elkeid' (and also that the top button of her shirt was undone), a Monk who knew her way around, by the looks of her stats. She offered the cup to him as she was asking about his reason for being here at the Cathedral.
She seemed nice enough, but affiliating with a person running a business this close where people are revived after death could be an invitation for the Grim Reaper to come and pay an unexpected visit. 0XF0RD hesitantly took the cup from the beguiling woman, the scent of lemons and another scent wafting across his nostrils.
"Just getting my bearings before I do any questing, that's all," replied 0XF0RD as calmly as possible. He could feel sweat forming on his brow.
He began to raise the cup to his lips when the unmistakable smell of spirits hit him, halting the cup's destination to his mouth. 0XF0RD had never had a drop of alcohol in his life, so he didn't know its taste, but life had taught him the smell.
I knew there was another motive. She's trying to drug me and then make off with my loot, thought 0XF0RD. He desperately tried thinking of a way to avoid drinking the tainted tonic while still remaining in Elkeid's good graces.
She could probably hunt me down and take me out with no problem, especially since I've already said I would be heading outside city limits.
Seeing no other choice, 0XF0RD took a small sip of the lemonade, nearly choking on both its sour taste and the burning sensation of the alcohol. He dropped the cup as he fell to his knees, coughing and spitting the lemonade onto the grass in front of him.
Well, if that doesn't make a good first impression, I don't know what will, 0XF0RD thought to himself as he tried to remember breathing again. |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
|
Post by Elkeid on Mar 25, 2014 0:49:09 GMT
The woman's eyes narrowed a bit in sadistic glee as the male hesitated at the smell of liquor. Was he not a drinker, or did he not expect to be fed alcoholic lemonade? 'He never met me~.' There was something about him that reminded her of that bumbling Cleric. Neither of them could say no to her, despite their current location - which in hindsight meant little, given how there were loopholes to avoid the wrath of the guards.
"…"
The player called 0XFoRD (why did he and some other players insist on giving themselves weird names? Next she would be seeing a guy named "Yoloswag420") proceeded to act like a giant bitch and fall towards the ground. She may have found someone even girlier than Blackcoat, if that was even possible. The quick reflexes granted to her by her class allowed her to pluck the cup from the air before it could waste too much and shatter onto the ground. Judging by the way FoRD was spitting and sputtering, he did not appreciate her concoction.
Not wanting to waste perfectly good liquor, Elkeid tilted her head back and downed the remaining liquid in the cup in one go. It flooded immediately to her head, making her feel woozy for a moment or two, and bringing a light flush to her cheeks. She crouched down beside the man, taking it easy so that she did not make herself even dizzier, and clapped him hard on the back. "There, there," she said in-between pats. "Do you need me to hold your hair back for you, princess?" His sex mattered little to her; she would have teased a woman just the same.
"That drink wasn't free, you know, and I don't give out 'free' drinks to replace spilled ones. I'll have to request some sort of compensation from you, whether it be gold, items, or your body." She didn't mean the sexual version of the third option, either. Whenever she listed it, though, people (chiefly men) always misunderstood her, only to find themselves doing hard labor, like the poor sap who thought she was making innuendo when she ordered him to clean out her gutters. "Hm. I guess I can't charge you a lot, since you only took a sip, eh?" Elk had moved on from patting and was now absentmindedly rubbing the small of the man's back. She didn't know why, but reactions like this to alcohol struck her as "cute." The humorous aspects were far easier to understand. [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:418Muse: Frank SinatraNotes:I think she's only making things worse. eueTags:@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2014 4:00:06 GMT
Status: Healthy / Rested
Mood: Dazed and Confused and Part-Time ServitudeThe sarcastic pats and the woman's mocking tone wasn't exactly the comfort he was expecting, but at least the woman was trying to help him cope with it...kinda. She was saying something about paying for the drink...gold, items, body...it all danced around in his head, not making much sense as he got his breath back.After regaining his composure and dusting off the remains of his calm and casual state, 0XF0RD sat upright, digging around in his pouch for two items: a bottle of some kind of drink that he managed to purchase before the discovery of actual food/drinks, and his notebook.The following note was made after downing the water-flavored drink:IMPERITIVE FOR SURVIVAL: Do NOT take beverages from Elk. Actually, just don't take free drinks from anyone.0XF0RD shot a stern look at Elkeid as he snapped his notebook shut. It didn't seem to affect her in the slightest, especially since Elkeid was now holding an empty glass and was trying to balance herself as she rubbed 0XF0RD's back. Noticing that he was causing a scene, 0XF0RD pushed himself up off the ground and dusted himself off.He turned around and looked down at her. She just stared back with a goofy grin on her face. He didn't have a reason to stay and help her out of her drunken stupor, but as she crouched there, all tipsy-turvy and giggly, he wondered if this was her weird way of making friends...or acquaintances, at least. He almost felt a pang of pity for her. Almost.However, after observing the scene around him, he realized that it wasn't just him who fell victim to her ploys. Other players were holding similar cups, trying not to make eye contact with them as they scurried off clutching their item pouches. To him, it seemed to be more like a prank than anything, a way to pass time while getting some money out of it. More like forcing it out of them, he thought to himself.
0XF0RD sighed, realizing that she would probably be under more control with someone a little more responsible helping her out. After all, keeping an eye on her had a certain appeal. Heck, he could keep two on her if needed.
"I don't know why I should be indebted to you for taking a sip of that lemon water, but if you really need my help, you can have it."
0XF0RD offered Elkeid his hand to help her back onto her feet, managing to get an unintentional 'free show' due to the top shirt button failing miserably at its job. |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
|
Post by Elkeid on Mar 25, 2014 15:53:02 GMT
Elkeid pulled back her hand as the man pulled away from her and righted himself, looming over her with his current height advantage. She moved her arms to rest their elbows against her knees, feeling annoyingly small in comparison, and yet she could not be bothered to move. It had nothing to do with something as absurd as "shyness." She hadn't been shy since...grade school? While she spent a few seconds pondering over it, the alcohol in her system was quickly nullified by her passive skill, Detox. In some ways the skill was lovely to have (mostly for debuffs and hangovers), but other times it was just so damned inconvenient. If she wanted to get smashed beyond functionality, she would need to continuously guzzle large amounts of strong liquor, and did not have the patience or gold to do so.
When the man offered his hand out to her, she took it without thinking and slowly pulled herself up, still very much aware of the remaining dizzying factor. Although the intoxication was technically gone, it was still there psychologically. 'I'm going to be an absolute wreck if I ever manage to get out of this world.' Or her tolerance would be higher than it already was. "Thank you," she muttered, placing a cool fingertip to her forehead. "You're a scribe, aren't you? Maybe you could...hm." She assumed, anyway. Artisan seemed like another possibility, but scribes were stereotyped with books and writing.
"I guess fliers and sign making would be something you could do, or would I need an advertiser?" This game was still very confusing to her, so she wasn't sure how deeply the technicalities ran or how highly they were held.
"...So why a name like - " There was no way she could pronounce the name with the zero tacked on to impersonate an "o." "Oxford?" She was completely overlooking that the man was helping her of his own volition, and not because she had demanded him to. It was almost as if she was used to getting her way, especially when weak willed males and women were involved. [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:351Muse: Number 1Notes:Floop.Tags:@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2014 18:11:53 GMT
Status: Healthy / Rested
Mood: Playing the Name GameAh. There it was. That familiar sequence of questions about his name again: Why 0XF0RD? Wouldn't Oxford have been just as good? Do you realize that you've named yourself after a dictionary?
Yes. Yes I do.
"Well, part of it was inspired after the dictionary, in an attempt to remind me to mind my spelling. The zeroes were put in due to nerdy computer science reasons that would take too long to explain."
"Also, the spelling wasn't intended like that. The system did some sort of letter configuration doohickery, and now it's this capped/uncapped mess that you see before you. Oxford's fine, or just Ox."
To answer her previous question, pulled out his notebook and handed it to her.
"And yes, you were correct about me being a Scribe. The amount of garbage in this notebook should be more than enough to convince you of that."
Most of the notebook contained scribbles and notes, his handwriting being able to stuff large quantities of notes into single pages. If anything embarrassing was written in there, she would probably skip over it.
0XF0RD looked back towards the stall, the sign that was propped against it now fallen over due to the wind. Pulling out his quill, he walked over to the sign and sat down on the ground with the sign on his lap, staring at it until an idea struck him.
A eye-catching title with a snazzy catchphrase would probably do wonders for business. 0XF0RD leaned foward and put his hand over his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as the back of the blank sign mocked him with it's uninspirational surface. |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
|
Post by Elkeid on Mar 26, 2014 13:48:44 GMT
0xF0rd's tale was surprisingly short and not very awe inspiring. The only thing that threw her off was the use of zeroes in his name; she could only guess it had something to do with binary, which was just a string of a bunch of ones and zeroes to her. She was rather glad that the system had not pulled a fast one on her and messed her name up, though. There were a few things Elk was anal about, and miss capitalized words or letters were one of those.
The man handed her his little book as proof of his scribe-hood, and she thumbed through it to sate her curiosity. A lot of was typical to what you would find in a journal; random scribbles, notes on key places and terms, something about cup size… Elk snapped the book shut, deciding she had seen more than enough. "Honestly." What had she expected to find in a male's private writings?
She returned to her stall, where the man was crouched in front of. If he wasn't so deep in thought, she would have lightly smacked him on the head with his notebook before returning it. Instead, she placed he book upon his head, treating it like a game of Jenga, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. As a child, she had been made to carry books around on her head like that, all for the sake of "good posture." It was an act she grew to loathe, but could appreciate it now that she was an adult.
A quick inventory of her supplies told her that she was running short on "lemonade," and would need to whip up another batch. The issue of lacking a proper sweetener also needed to be dealt with; did she have any honey? "...Perhaps I should advertise this stand as selling 'hard lemonade,' rather than the non-alcoholic kind." These people were just reviving from death. Some of them could probably use a hard drink or two. 'I know I would.'
The woman went back to work, making squeezing the juice from lemons her first priority, and the simple production of Unfounded Liquor her second. The liquor would not be tasty, but should still retain the alcoholic effect. That was all she required for making a spiked beverage. 'These people should be glad for it.' There were some spirits she could not drink on their own, for the taste was utterly repugnant. [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:407Muse: Artificial NocturneNotes:Nein.Tags:@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2014 15:35:24 GMT
Mood: Oxford Advertising, LLC As Oxford stared at his profile information, he found a way to change his display name, so now it read 'Oxford', with its alluring 'O' and satisfying 'xford'.He gave a nod of approval, his notebook falling from his head where Elkeid had put it.(Oh. She's done with it.)He picked it up and placed it back into his Inventory, turning his attention back to the sign that sat before him.As Elkeid returned to her stall, mentioning something about advertising it as a 'hard lemonade'. He looked at the sign, waiting for the magical combination of his words to suddenly come from his unseen and unknown muse.(Most people would hit the bars when dealing with stressful times back in the real world. I guess we could apply a lighter alternative here.)He brandished his quill, writing the letters boldly, but applying a point to the tips of the letters so they would be easier to read from far distances. After admiring his handiwork, making sure he didn't commit any spelling errors, Oxford walked over to the stall and placed the sign in front of it."Well, what do you think?"Elkeid was still making lemonade behind the stall, a look of concentration on her face as she focused on making more of her specialty.Oxford took another look at the sign as Elkeid made her way to the front of the stall.Elkeid's Hard Lemonade Helps You Through the Hard Times Words: 244OOC Notes: Finally back. Tags: Elkeid |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
|
Post by Elkeid on Apr 2, 2014 15:26:06 GMT
Elkeid was putting the finishing touches on her "lemonade" when the small sounds of a book scuffling against the ground caught her attention. She glanced over at Oxford, whose name no longer contained the awkward jumble of zeroes and randomly capitalized letters. Either his username had righted itself, or Oxford manipulated it on his own. Regardless of the how or why, she had to admit that this name suited him better than the other; it was also easier on the lips to pronounce.
She spent a few more seconds tidying up, and then walked around the stall to admire Oxford's handiwork with the sign. The title and the slogan beneath made her smirk a bit in appreciation. "Like 'Mike's Hard Lemonade,' isn't it?" That was a brand she was only familiar with by name; she had no idea how their products tasted. "Well, it's amply named, I suppose -"
As she spoke, something rustled against the nape of her neck. Elkeid assumed that this was just the wind, and reached up to tug her collar higher up her neck. The air there felt oddly cool for such a warm day, a day that was also rather still up until this point. "Return the staaaaand." The voice was soft enough for Elk to almost miss it entirely, though someone like Oxford should have heard it with perfect clarity. "Return the staaaaaand..." Now her hair was blowing in the "breeze," and the voice was growing more and more pronounced. "Return the staaaaaand, or suffer my curse."
"...Why is it so drafty all of a sudden?" Elkeid was scowling now. If this wind got any worse, it could potentially detract business from her stall. "Anyway - good work, Oxford." A ghostly figure appeared behind her, pawing at the back of the woman's back and head. It was the cause of the wind she felt, and showed no signs of letting up.
"Return the staaaaaand..." Elkeid's frown increased. Now she was sure that someone was standing a bit behind her, making faces and whispering silly, incoherent things. She had half a mind to turn around and tell them to kindly stop, and was even in the process of doing so, but… There was no one there. The phantasm was hovering against Elkeid's back, out of her immediate view. Clearly she had just mistaken the wind for something else. This wasn't the first time, either, though she was sure that an actual person was-
"Wh-what are you doing?! St-stop that this instance!" The ghost, frustrated at being verbally ignored by the woman was now pawing at her, which felt like tickling to the Monk. "Oxford, stop that right now!" Unbidden laughter had sprang from her lips, and now she was trying to suppress it while struggling to escape from the tickling. Ox was going to find himself in a world of hurt once she managed to stop giggling.
The ghost, now miffed beyond belief, pulled away from the woman and flung itself at Oxford. "RETURN THE STAAAAAAAAND..." Who knew an old stall could be haunted? [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:510Muse: Your WomanNotes:( •̀ω•́ )σTags:@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2014 4:24:48 GMT
Status: Haunted Stalls and Ghostly Tickles The woman was afflicted with a curse of laughing, apparently due to the apparition floating behind Elkeid, which was strange, since Oxford didn't figure her to be a laughing lady.
He found the whole scene even more strange when Elkeid told him to cut it out.
"What?! I'm not doing anything!"
Oxford held up his hands, showing that they were nowhere near her body that he actually would not mind tickling. Imminent death by the brutal lemon-squeezing hands of the Monk was a powerful deterrant for engaging in such actions.
"RETUUUUUURN THE STAAAAAAND..."
The voice from before spoke again, sending the same chill up his spine when he first heard it.
All of sudden, he felt it. Despite wearing armor, he could feel someone touching him, and it creeped him out. Then, a tickling sensation could be felt, causing Oxford to crack a smile. Then a snort escaped. Then he began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
It was all Oxford could do to remain standing, doubled-over in laughter as the ghostly formed hovered around him, tickling his sides and under his arms.
"Wh-what is *hrk* happening here, *snort* Elkeid?"
Oxford could barely speak sentences, the ghost's tickling was relentless, even as he finally fell to the ground, trying to cover his sides as if could block the spirit's tickle fingers.
The ghost showed no signs of letting up, and Oxford was getting dangerously close to losing control of his bladder.
(Stop. Please. I don't need that kind of 'lemonade' staining my pants.)
The wind continued to blow, ruffling Oxford's hair as it blew. He stared up at Elkeid whenever his eyes weren't clenched shut in laughter, pleading with his eyes for her to find a way to make it stop.Words: 291OOC Notes: Laughter is the best medicine, but the worse curse. Tags: Elkeid |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
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Post by Elkeid on Apr 3, 2014 15:46:27 GMT
Elkeid's sides were starting to hurt from so much laughing, but thankfully the tickling ceased before she could collapse and send herself to the Cathedral. She was going to kick Ox's ass, and hard. Physical touching was not one she permitted without her wishes, especially when it was something as embarrassing as tickling. She was dreadfully ticklish, and had a hard time of hiding it once someone started it. A little blush rose in her cheeks when she realized what a scene she must have made in front of the few people near the stall and the church building. 'Goddamn it, Oxford.' How was she ever going to show her face around her again - was that little shitass laughing?
The woman spun around, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes to glare at… Elkeid's eyes widened in surprise instead. Oxford was laughing his head off, but he had good reason to; someone was tickling him. This "someone" was obviously not another Adventurer, though, or even a People of the Land. It was a spirit, with only the top half of its body visible. The rest ended in a spiral, much like a pig's curly tail. Its face - or what little Elk could see of it - was neither male nor female in appearance. The only thing that stood out was its frightening grin, stretched far too much for a natural smile. It looked more like the ghost had had its face slit ear to ear in a Glasgow Smile.
All thoughts of kicking Oxford's ass were placed on the backburner. For now, she settled on (somehow) prying the ghost off of Ox. "Hold still, Oxford. I know just how to deal with-" The glow from her Venetian Earrings were strong enough to catch the corner of her eyes in bright daylight. 'Oh God. Don't tell me there's more than one of them?' That wasn't good.
The palm of one hand was coated with white light as she lifted and pointed it towards the ghost harassing Oxford. "Holy Banishment," she called out, shooting a semi-transparent laser out to greet the fiend. The ghost yelped and jerked away from the man, but continued to dangle in arms reach. "Ox, duck." The cool down for this skill was ten seconds, which was more than enough time for Ox to move out of the way - or for the ghost to run off before she could catch it. The ghost didn't look like he was going anywhere, either. 'It looks like I'll just have to blast you to death, huh?' But how do you kill something that is already dead?
This time, Elk placed one hand on the back of her ghost blasting hand, and fired another Holy Banishment attack at the ghost. The ghost swerved to avoid the blast and spun around in the air overhead. Elkeid was cursing the slow cool down as she continued to keep her hand trained on it, until the ghost decided to dive into the lemonade stand. She lowered her arm a bit, uncertain; was it just hiding in the stall, or what? "Come on out, you coward!"
"Return the staaaaaand...or suffer my curse!"
Elkeid kicked the stand, which had vibrated along with the ghost's voice. "It's my stand now. Go find a chamber pot to haunt." The stand just continued to vibrate as the ghost repeated itself several times. Its words fell upon death ears, however. She was not going to be pushed around by a dead person, who, as far as she was concerned, had lost all right and claim to property after becoming deceased.
"I SHALL STAIN THIS STAND RED WITH YOUR BLOOD," the ghost inside the machine stand bellowed.
To Elk, nothing the stand had said changed, so she was not aware of the gravity of the situation when she stepped forward to blast it with holy energy. Small, ghastly figures descended from the sky to cling to the stand and the cups and drink that were scattered on the top. One of them picked up a cup of liquid and flung it towards her. Elk smacked the cup away and onto a passing werecat, causing it to shriek and hiss in surprise.
The wet pussycat brushed past Oxford to accost her, or would have, had the stand not decided to lift itself from the ground and move directly over it. "MREOW!" Elk jumped back as the stand landed firmly on the werecat, pinning his body to the ground and causing some health points to flake off from the "falling" object.
"SUFFER MY CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURSE!" [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:766Muse: Clubbed To DeathNotes:( •̀ω•́ )σTags:@0x1dea
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Post by Deleted on Apr 15, 2014 4:00:56 GMT
Status: New Shop Item - Cat Pancakes Oxford wiped the tears of laughter from his face, panting heavily from the whole ghostly tickling ordeal. Propping himself up to a sitting position, the Guardian watched the poltergeist-esque events unfold before him. He didn't bother to move, since he had little to no idea what was going on.
Elkeid had told the ghost something, something about possessing the nasty putrid pots that medieval chambermaids would often empty outside their windows, maybe with a hearty "BOMBS AWAY" if they were feeling polite.
The spirit didn't appreciate Elkeid's concerns for finding another living space for it, so it retaliated with the common threat of using their vital body fluids to cover the stall with a fresh coat of red.
At this, the stall began to rise, more of the spirity buggers descending upon the stand and tossing its various wares to the ground below. One of them got its ethereal hands on a cup of the 'stuff', throwing it at Elkeid.
With Elkeid being a Monk, she used her hand to swat it away from her flawless face, letting her product adorn the fur of a Werecat player that happened to be passing by. Despite the circumstances, Oxford let out a chuckle, wishing he had a camera to capture the look of shock and surprise on its face.
Oxford watched it run past him, feeling the fur from the Werecat on his face as it dashed by. Some stray hairs got in his mouth, causing him to spit and sputter the nasty strands out.
"Bleh, is it already warm enough for cat-people to start shedding?"
He noticed that the PO'd cat person was aiming to attack Elkeid. Oxford would have gotten up to defend her, but he decided he'd let the City Guards take care of it once they detected player combat within the city. But the Guardian felt a pinch of pity for the anthropomorphized player, so he called out to him to issue a warning.
"Hey, I wouldn't do that if I we're--"
Too late. The stall had just shown the Werecat it's new comfy bed, complete with grassy pillows and dirt blankets. The salesman stall helped seal the deal by crashing down onto the player's chest, helping him to enjoy the full effect of the product.
Oxford stood up, shaking his head at the dumb player's antics who was now holding the wooden stall tightly to his bosom (or being crushed by it, if you prefer that description, you finicky person). The sweet, if weird, sign of masochistic affection was met with by screaming from the soul in the woodwork.
Elkeid looked like she knew what she was doing, so Oxford kindly stood back and crossed his arms as he watched this bizarre tale unfold before him.Words: 459OOC Notes: -- Tags: Elkeid |
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