Devious by Design [Closed/Research]

[Widow]

HP 100% | MP 90%

Heretic - Apprentice - Alchemist

____________________________________________________

 Widow sat in the back of the caravan as she wobbled from side to side. She began to wonder about how much longer she would have to endure the bitterness in her tattered garments. She sniffed roughly, her eyes casting an acute glare as the metallic gold plates that adorned her shoulders. It was beginning to rest and the gold coating was chipping off revealing the bronze layer underneath. Her emerald green eyes cast a glare out towards the edge of the window pane covered lightly in snow. She tapped on the glass several times, each series of pounding shaking more snow off as she hit it with her fist. Squinting out the window she saw the town of Morridian come into sight.



Morridian was a medium sized town that was a bit more technology advanced than others, most of it’s making of a steampunk nature. Widow gazed at the old clocktower that stood in the center of the town square.



So much has changed in seven years
...


I wonder if anyone will even remeber who I am...



Let’s hope not...



After all...



It’s probably for the best that I remain forgotten...



Widow replied glancing at the Miasma Inhibitors that adorned her wrists. She scowled at the tools used to restrict her abilities. She twitched her cheek slightly in subtle frustration as the caravan came to a stop outside the city.



“Here’s your stop, miss...enjoy your stay. Lots of sight seeing to do here for the tourists...” The driver smiles.



“Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle” (May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back)


The Elf bids farewell in her ancient language of her people. Her slender fingers curl around the knob on the door and she pushes it open and begins to make her descent off stepping roughly into the snowy terrain. The snow crunches beneath her feet until they begin to clack against hard cobblestone of the city streets.



She walks through the streets casting a dark glare at the pedestrians. She watches as they indulge in their nature, cheerful, jubilant, and full of glee.



If only they knew what life was like on the inside...



If only they knew how meager our lives were...



Living in shells...



Her thoughts howl as she continues making her way into the market district.



She rests her eyes on a area of town that is meant for an open area for crafting. While standing outside of an Alchemist’s shop she purchases a few diodes, lamps, and filaments. Carrying her items with her she begins to sit by at a table and work away on her craft. She begins to whisper in her native tongue several words as she casts a simple spell.



“Nurta I' fea” (Incognito) She mutters as she activates her [Form Shift] spell only altering her hair, making it several inches longer. In the middle of the spell as her mana drains she whispers another enchantment.



“Sana termara en' templa” (Mana Vampire) She says in her mystical foregn tongue as she begins to draw the essence of a [Mana shard] from the palms off her right hand.

INVENTORY

EQUIPMENT: Starter Cloth Armor, Starter Longsword, Starter Longsword
ABILITIES USED: [Form Shift]
Words: 524
Post Theme Song: Marunae



TAGS: Mitsuru Kirishima 

template by caesar

[Mitsuru Kirishima]

He licked the blood off his lips as a pleased smile displayed on his lips and the last droplet of blood had disappeared with the contact of his tongue. He sweep the dust away from his clothes as he rearranged them correctly shivering in pleasure. Today had been a fine day. No one had needed to see him and nor did he. He was free on this beautiful snowy day and eager to meet some new souls.

Should I drop by the crafting zone ? I might be able to meet people there and give a hand.

He had become much better at tailoring recently and would be pleased to offer his help to a novice and someone willing to learn and participate. Both his hands ran through his silver light hair swiftly and then positioning themselves in his pockets. His pace was just as a normal walking one although it could see as if he was hovering over the ground. Morridan was a medium sized town and therefore inhabitants were fewer but it didn't mean they weren't nicer. In fact he had came across friendly people who helped him guide himself through the alleys and streets. He had now pretty much mapped the entire place in his head. His crimson eyes focused upon the old yet magnificent clocktower that stood in the center of the main city square. He wasn't far away from the crafting zone as he slipped his hand through his inventory to check on the crafting materials he had in it. He laughed, reassured to see he had enough to do almost anything.

"Oh..."

The place wasn't that packed and there weren't that many people on each table, to his surprise. His fingers clasped this his chin tightening the grip with both index and thumb. An orange haired woman was trying to do some blacksmithing and pounding a hammer on the chest of her metallic armor. He shook his head as he didn't know anything in that kind of crafting. His pupils scanned for someone he could actually help. His breath stop suddenly, his eyes gently caressed her shapes as he smiled friendly. She had enchanting emerald colored eyes. They were magnificent jewels which, without a doubt would guide someone to the end of the world. He silver hair, just like his own, were long and delicate but surely messed up a bit. It made him laugh as he quietly approached, removing his hands from his pockets. She sure seemed older then he was but who cares ? Maybe he could help her in a sort of way ? All of the others were busy crafting something he had no idea of. She was draped in rags and it made him tilt his head on the right, wondering on why she would only wear that in winter. Wasn't she cold? His feet hit the cobble stone path making her able to hear them and notice his presence.
She looked like someone who had gone through a lot, it was noticeable. Just like him they maybe had lived through tons of things. He shook his head as he approached more and more at this vague and maybe random thought.
He bowed his upper body just a bit and as he opened his mouth, no words came out. He heard her say words in a foreign tongue which he knew was Elfish thanks to movies he had seen on the other side. Her voice was beautiful and it engulfed his soul as if she was speaking inside of his mind. He shivered and with a smile :

"What a beautiful language..."

He spoke that, but at first he thought he had only imagined saying it. Therefore resulting in the fact that he didn't know whether she had heard it or no. He looked at her pointy ears confirming the fact that she was an elf and smiled. He hadn't seen much around her and it made him want to learn more about her.

"Could I offer you my help ? You are in a free crafting area so I thought you might want a bit of assistance."

She was in rags, maybe she wanted to craft some clothing ? He was unsure but it was a possibility. His eyes had been since the beginning in contact with hers as he couldn't detach his stare. Those emerald pupils and the shape of her eyes where swift like a cat with thin eyebrows. White and green made a delicious combo as colors and his sight was delightful. His magma red eyes continued focusing and diving deeper and deeper in her soul and something shock him yet arousing his curiosity. He was mesmerized.

She's lived through a lot of events... Just like I did.

Her eyes gave plenty of information, fake ones ? Maybe, he wouldn't be sure until he got to know her more. The thing he didn't know, is that they hadn't lived the same things at all, they just had a painful past. His hands swayed left to right before gently touching the table and taking a seat on the bench. His head tilted once again. He didn't realize that staring could make the woman uncomfortable but he would soon be informed of such a possibility.
Kind snowflakes dropped from the sky and, with the sun, glowed and sparkled in many colors. It was amazing to see. As always, winter and snow, had been his favorite season.

Words: 909
Tags: Widow

[Widow]

HP 100% | MP 80%

Heretic - Apprentice - Alchemist

____________________________________________________

Her eyes gleamed over the royal purple gem that ejected from her palm. Her emerald eyes quivered over it and examined it. It was the condensed formation of mana. One of this worlds small marvels to behold. The energy that radiated from the jewel was unstable how ever as light purple energy bolts from within crackled wildly sticking to the outside of the shell wherever Widow placed her fingers upon it. Her pale skin placed the shard carefully upon the wooden surface, next to her diodes, lamps and light bulbs which held useful filaments within them.


She licked over her cracked lips as the bitter winds blew through the forest. She seemed unmoved; unshaken by the frigid winds that snaked through the buildings and down it’s alleys. After enduring rough conditions while working as practically an indentured servant without any shred of freedom, she grew accustomed to harsh temperatures and they bothered her little. She always considered mother nature to be the goddess of the earth and all the conditions of the weather and would submit to her ever lasting will.



Peripheral vision her greatest ally, she sees a silver haired man approach with his hands in his pockets. Her natural vigilance alerts her to his arrival as her heart questions his intentions. Widow didn’t take kindly to people coming towards her with their hands in concealed locations. It could have been a bounty hunter or someone trying to mug her for the materials she had just purchased. She doesn’t have time to react, but she notices she chuckles, releasing his hands from his pockets. This eases the tension and makes Widow settle down as she cautiously watches him introduce himself.


His words are barely audible over the loud pinging of metal from blacksmith that loomed down the hall pounding on a heated blade with a black hammer, tempering the steel. He speaks about the beautiful language of her people. As the last two words snake from his lips, she notices that he is a descendant of the great Alvs. She takes note of the emblem on his tongue and gets a stereotypical impression that perhaps he dabbled in magics or was a scholar that took interest in her Alchemy project.



Her eyes shined as she looked up to the pleasant snow fall, her emerald eyes glowing immensely as she spoke several poetic words.



Out of the bosom of the Air,

         Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

        Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

            Silent, and soft, and slow

            Descends the snow.



Even as our cloudy fancies take

      Suddenly shape in some divine expression,

Even as the troubled heart doth make

     In the white countenance confession,

         The troubled sky reveals

         The grief it feels.



This is the poem of the air,

     Slowly in silent syllables recorded;

This is the secret of despair,

    Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,

        Now whispered and revealed

       To wood and field.




Whimsically, she turns to her chin towards Mitsuru and begins to speak gracefully in her mother tongue. “Elen sila lumenn omentilmo...” (A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting.)



“Mae Govannen...” She whispers gently, the icy words slithering from from her pink lips. The phrase is a common one to her people which was a popular greeting which meant “Well met.”



“It is the language of the woods and of the earth...." she nods. Her magnetic eyes casting her gaze up to his face.
 "It is the sweet song of the spring water and the essence of the blowing wind...” 


She notices his ash white hair and his eyes that flow like magma in a volcanoe.



“Your eyes...they burn like hellfire...” Widow freezes, gazing into them deeper. She raises her eyebrow in skepticism at the vitual data that appeared over his head. “Mitsuru Kirishima” it read.



“You aren’t a real Half-Alv...are you?” She insinuated, her eyes still locked tight with his own. She squinted upon him carefully. “You’re one of them aren’t you...?”



Widow felt uncomfortable around the foreign adventurers, so she cast a dark glare towards her hand, flipping her palm towards the man.



“Nurta I' fea” (Incognito) she whispered aas her hair turned into a jet black and her eyes burned like a phoenix. “Sana termara en' templa” (Mana Vampire) she spoke as she withdrew a violet red shard from her palm and glanced up at the boy.



“What talents do you have to offer?” She inquired rather bluntly as she placed her elbows on the table. Her hair and eyes reverting back to their original state. Her stare was intense as her thumbs tucked under her chin and her index fingers shot up towards the sky. She held a rather intimidating glare as her unkempt hair swayed down her neck and over her face. The frost flakes of snowfall descended behind her and light snowflakes began to caress her shoulders as a cold wind blew over the pair.

INVENTORY

EQUIPMENT: Starter Cloth Armor, Starter Longsword, Starter Longsword
ABILITIES USED: [Form Shift]
Words: 826
Post Theme Song: Lucid Dream



TAGS: Mitsuru Kirishima 

template by caesar

[Mitsuru Kirishima]

His elbows on the table and both hands joining with both thumb and index respectively pushing against each other and the other fingers intertwined in a subtle position. He listened as she recited the poem which echoed through his mind. The way she spoke was mesmerizing and each time he heard her voice he felt something deep within him wake up. As she spoke those words, he glared at her magnetic eyes which would make anyone stare at them deeply in amazement.

Amazing... What a beautiful poem yet... Something isn't right.

The red mark under his left eye twitched as a smile appeared on his lips, moving his cheeks. He passed a hand in his ash white hair to move a lock or two out of his vision. She then turned to him as she spoke in Elfish making him tilt his head in admiration.

I would love to learn such a mesmerizing language. It's just sounds wonderful...

He didn't understand much but as a first contact with the woman he decided to go with the fact that she had greeted him. He bowed slowly his head towards her as to give her words back to her.

"It's an amazing language. I would be pleased to speak it someday... Maybe you could teach me ?!" he muttered from the bottom of his heart, yet loud enough for her to hear.

She had then made contact, herself, with his boiling red pupils. What she then said made him laugh. Elves had always been extreme in metaphors and superstitions, his smile was innocent and naive. He covered his eyes suddenly with both of his hands and did a little scream as if it was burning.

"Hot hot !" He said in a panicked voice.

He then uncovered his eyes and laughed just like a child would to a joke, making his shoulders and his entire body move. He tried his best to make the situation much friendlier. But then he saw her eyes quickly drift onto his Character display which would show his name, level, class, subclass and race. His smile almost disappeared as he heard. He had learned and read quite a lot of books during his stay in this new world. She didn't seem reassured that he was an adventurer and that wouldn't surprise him for the least. Asking such a question only possibly meant one thing, that she was more a less a Lander. He wasn't quite sure but that question aroused his curiosity and made him bounce towards that guess.

"True..." he whispered.

She had nailed the fact that he was an adventurer but he had also gained a piece of information, not yet confirmed, but a nice one.

"I am an Adventurer indeed..." he claimed as saying so discreetly as it was a one on one conversation.

Reading books was a good thing to learn about the world. His eyes drifted on the inhibitors which adorned her wrists and his did a little head movement as to indicate them to the woman.

"But... I think we have lived the same things concerning our class no ? People aren't that welcoming to us. Don't you think ?..." he said as he lowered his eyes.

Those bracers were reserved for Heretics are were specially designed to lower the miasma emission possibilities. His red eyes delicately checked out her features before his eyes came back in contact with hers. He tried to convince her that he wasn't an enemy and didn't want to harm her in any way. He then smiled slightly.

Her palm was suddenly facing him, his eyes wide open in amazement and disbelief in what was just happening. He had never seen such a transformation and it made him want to be able to do exactly the same. Even though it was kind of frightening at first he then found it oddly beautiful. He hair had turned into a temporary jet ink black and her eyes red as his with a tint of orange just like those of a phoenix. His mouth dropped open as he didn't believe what his eyes saw.

"Wow..." he whispered in a sigh.

His body backed a bit impressed with what he had just seen but it wasn't over. As if a portal had just opened in her hand a violet redish shard was being extracted from him. The color of the shard glowed in reflection in his eyes, it was beautiful and felt as if magic had just happened at inches from him. A child amazed smile appeared on his lips as his eyes jumped back up to hers, her physical changes dispersed and Widow came back to the original state he had seen her in. He blinked at her Character sheet and read the name in his head.

Widow... So that's your name.

Thinking of it as impolite he kept that information for himself until she would present herself to him. Her intimidating look made him feel quite reassured. Who wouldn't have that kind of look on a first meeting ? They knew almost nothing of each other and yet were having a "casual" conversation even though she seemed suspicious, he could even smell her mistrust.

"I'm a decent tailor. And if I recall correctly, we both use light armor. I could help you in getting some new clothes. What do you think ?"

His right hand palm separated from his left as his palm closed on near Widow as a welcoming hand waiting for her to catch it. His eyes almost shut, he expressed in enthousiam :

"Pleased to meet you ! I'm Mitsu' even if you already know that."

He pointed with his left hand index towards the box which had his description as a player. He smiled innocently once again and tilted his head. The cold wind blew over them covering the table in a thin coat of snow. He thought that she might be cold, slipped a finger in midair opening his inventory and pushing an invisible button. A coat for both woman and male in style materialized on the table and dropped on it gently.

"You might want to wear that."

He suggested kindly. If she refused he would just get it back in his inventory and continue the conversation. It was a kind offer and nothing else implied by it.

"We are both people who aren't especially in the hearts of others. We aren't accepted so I thought it would be a good idea to accept each and every one of our kind. It's just a matter of time before they come and chase us I heard..."

He was speaking about the Stanford wardens and he was right, it was just a matter of time before they would go after him. They always found a reason to go after Heretics innocent or not. They couldn't guarantee the safety of people around them as they could corrupt a being pretty quickly. And sometimes even lose control of themselves and go berserk on madness. He had read a lot but was still inexperienced.

The cold started to set itself upon the small city, but both sat still eyes to eyes, although the woman suspicious and Mitsu' light hearted and naive.

Words: 1189

Tags: Widow
Post Theme : Krone

[Widow]

HP 100% | MP 80%

Heretic - Apprentice - Alchemist

____________________________________________________

She would have turned her head gracefully catching him resting his elbows rather comfortably on the table. He seemed rather interested in her words and allured by her speech. She was used to having company and she could feel his gaze upon her. It was obvious he was trying to warm things up. She smiled at her and tried to give her his undivided attention. He seemed fascinated by the poem which was a common thing among the bards of her people.



Is he trying to stick around?



She blinked curiously glancing at the red mark underneath his eye, studying his facial features as he removed the snow white hair from his face and tilted his head in wonder.



Was hearing something like that so uncommon for him?



She began to wonder about his intentions or if he were only just playing dumb to get close to her. His actions seem to hold genuine ignorance and naivety. He was seemingly unknowing and unaware as if he was a foreigner from a faraway land. Either that or never spent time in the company of elves.



His following words confirmed this to Widow as he spoke highly of her language and then suggested that possibly he could even teach her.



What do I look like...



Do I look like I’m hear to give out lessons to tourists?



Her skeptical gaze kept falling upon that slithering tongue with the emblem upon it. Her face held a blank expression as she simply watched him indulge in whatever fancied him. She took notice of his eyes then commented upon them, hinting at a sign of interest in their hue.



As the boy began to fluster about mocking her words she glared at him for a brief second, unamused at first, but then when he added in the words with a childish laugh. She scoffed and snickered lightly. Somehow, he managed to break down a tiny chunk of the barrier she had up, though she never intended him to.



This kids pretty silly...



She simply never met anyone so goofy in their antics before. He clearly was not from here. This much was evident, but she decided to take a gander for herself, just to be sure. Sure enough it was as she thought and she made a statement and watched carefully for any attempts of deception. He shortly thereafter gave his response, voicing truth in his words.



Heh...figures. So he is one of them...maybe I can pick his brain for a bit and find out what I need...


She glared skeptically as if he spoke in a hushed tone and had something to hide. It was also quite possible that he valued privacy.



Speaking of privacy, the woman lowered her hands below the table as the man glared at them.



What is he...?



He tilted his head at them and began to make a small insinuation, implying that they were two of a kind. Widow’s eyes shimmered with a luminescent white light over them as he spoke the words. She was growing slightly annoyed with the topic, but would bide her time, giving him a chance to say all he had to say, before she would respond.



Two birds of the same feather....no, you are of a whole entirely different breed...



She begins to ponder on the thoughts of what a adventurer with heretic powers would be capable of. The thought irritated her as she began to understand the recent influx of Stratford Warden presence ever since the adventurers roamed the lands.



She was growing a bit unsettled at the thought at how he just stared at her bracers as if he was looking through the window of her soul. Then so easily began to categorize her. She reclined back and folded her arms and began to size him up with her eyes. She wanted to test him and get an idea of where his mana levels were at, so she shifted form and extracted a Mana fragment from him and examined it.



Hmm...it’s blood red as his eyes are. What secrets does this one hide...



She glares at the crystal before slowly sliding it on the table. She looked over at the boy while doing so, noticing that he seemed to be quite impressed.



“Liked that did you...” She smirked quickly, but not to long as to seem friendly. “You don’t hang around too many Alchemists, do you?”



She inquired as to his knowledge of Alchemy practitioners since him seemed all to easily excited by the sight. Then again, he was quite new to this world himself. She began to wonder if all adventurers were like this. She wondered if this meeting would ever begin to be productive and since he offered himself to her she asked him about his services. She listened quietly as he produced an answer.



So, a Tailor. That’s interesting. Had him pinned for more of a Alchemist or Pharmacist...



She rolled her tongue around her teeth and nodded.



“Aye. Light armor is a bit of a specialty for us. I wear cloth armor for the most part. Our stuff tends to provide the most mobility and looks the most fashionable, if you care about that sort of thing.” Widow shrugged as she leaned back her arms still folded defensively.



She blinked as she paused for a moment, reflecting back over him statement,.



“You saying there’s something wrong with my clothes...?”



She squinted with a dark glare as she rubbed her thumb in circles over her index and middle finger. Her squint darted across the table the Half- Alvs hand, and she simply looked up at him. The gesture was foreign to her and she assumed that he was asking her for compensation for his services or something.



“Keep your hands to yourself...” She replied looking away, before adding. “Elves are pretty hygienic in nature. We don’t ‘shake hands’ it’s disrespectful. “



“Saesa omentien lle...” (Pleasure meeting you) She whispered softly before bringing her eyes to his flaming gaze. “You may call me....”



She paused briefly before drawing the essence of a shard from her own body, a crystal hovering from the pulsation of her own palm. It was black as night and light grey tendrils sparked from within.



Her emerald green gaze glowed eeriely, but was magnetic in it’s pull as she slithered out the words in her tongue.



“Widow...”



You would feel an icy chill from the way she spoke it as she watched him tilt his head in a childish manner, hinting at an innocent nature that was not reflective of the crimson red shard she withdrew from him. He offered her a coat as a kind gesture, but Widow waved it away dismissively.



“I’ll be fine.”



Her favorite phrase to say. She didn’t like showing weakness openly to others so she would just embrace the cold winds as they came. She was elvish so she had quite a healthy immune system that would help her endure for the time being.



He’s being just a little too friendly...what’s this guys angle?



She began to wonder as he spoke once more, bringing back the topic of being a Heretic, which made her grow annoyed once more as she stared blankly at him.



She heaved a heavy grunt, and furried her brow in anger.



“Stop acting like you’re one of us...we never lived the same lives. You’re an entirely different breed. We never got to choose the path life forced us to walk. You think I wanted this dark sorcery? You think I wanted eternal condemnation for sins I didn’t commit? To be branded and thrust into a life bound in chains?”



She squinted at him as he leaned forward gazing at him with her dark gleaming gems.



“I spent decades trying to keep this hidden. Living life in the shadows. Do you have any idea how miserable that is?”



She scoffed as she folded her arms looking over her shoulder.



“And you...I hear you ‘Adventurers’ or whatever the hell you fancy yourselves...I hear you get to choose whatever ‘class’ you wish to dabble in. So tell me something...what type of twisted neep finds dark magics amusing and entertaining...who looks at us and says “Oh, that seems exciting! I could be something noble like a gallant knight or a noble cleric and bring anima to the people."


"But no...ever since your kind came, they spread corruption like freaking locusts and guess what happens when the Stratford Wardens have to step in! Shit rolls down hill and we all get neeped! But it’s okay for you guys, you can fight to the death and you’ll just pop back into a cathedral and everything’s shits and giggles for you. Us, on the other hand, we either fight and die, or surrender and live our lives in shells!”



Widow puffed her cheeks as they flustered red. She diverted her attention to the Mana fragments upon the table and took his crimson red fragment and merged it with her jet black fragment until they pulsed and radiated a dark blood red glow and formed a [Stabalized Mana Fragment]



She looked up at the Half-Alv before speaking cold-hearted words.



“So don’t think for a day that you’re one of us...”



She unfolded her arms, trying to expel the tension in the air.



“Now before you strike any more nerves. If you still care to make the outfit, I suppose I could show you a design I was going to have another tailor make in the city. He was level ten, but you seem to be much more experienced. At least that’s what the virtual data says above your head.” Widow stated as she glanced back up upon his head.



She lowered her haze down and two the right as she retrieved a satchel with her journal and flipped through a few pages. Most of which would be written in Sindarin, the ancient text of her people, on one of the pages in the book was a design for the robes in which her mother, a esteemed Sage wore before she left the village of Pandora. She showed the sketch to the boy and looked up at him.



The chilling winds continued to snake through the courtyard as the crimson red gem gleamed with a pitch black glow as it shined dimly between both of them.




“So, you think you can make that or what?” She said solemnly. If he wouldn’t she’d just find someone else. After all, tailors came a dime a dozen.

INVENTORY

EQUIPMENT: Starter Cloth Armor, Starter Longsword, Starter Longsword
ABILITIES USED: None. 
Words: 1759
Post Theme Song: Jane's Lament

Notes: 
Made second mana fragment. 
Merged them together to make [Stabalized mana shard]



TAGS: Mitsuru Kirishima 

template by caesar

[Mitsuru Kirishima]

Irritated, bored, angry, bothered, all of the words would mix into the feeling he received from the woman. The topic he had been speaking about the heretics seemed to get her into a furious mood. Her facial features and expressions expressed high annoyance in the subject. However, she did not yet bother to interrupt him, she stood silent and listening to what he had to say. He pondered if he should continue the subject but paused it. He didn't really think much about the ongoing conversation, it was more of an introduction to their meeting. He slightly shrug at her displeased reactions, however something stood out... She seemed unpleased with the fact that he had categorized her so quickly, it wasn't meant to be hurt or to be insulting he would have hoped her not to take it that way, but apparently it wasn't as he thought. Both of the dark black dots in his eyes grew bigger as his eyes suddenly got wider. Her hand had come to touch his clothes just over his heart as she began extracting a blood red shard which held the same color of his eyes. The sensation of the extraction felt as a vacuum sucking up his heart, it felt as if something had be gone all of a sudden.

A sensation of emptiness...

This sensation grew stronger before dispelling by itself. That shard was glowing red pulsing like a heart and shaped like a broken sharp piece of rock. There was something special about it he wanted to ask, but he breathed slowly and deeply before raising his head back up. Widow analyzed it quickly before sliding it on the table as if it didn't matter that much. His eyes sparkled in amazement and vivid curiosity.

What does that mean ? What is that shard ?

It felt like she had taken something which had belonged to him since the very beginning and he felt uneasy that one person could do this with such ease. She inquired if he had appreciated her doing so and he timidly and reticently nodded not really knowing if he had like it or not, but it sure was a beautiful process. He then shook his head slowly from left to right as to answer "No" to her second question. He didn't know any alchemists around and didn't even meet one yet. She was the first and he smile to that fact.
He timidly joined both right and left indexes and made them hit again and again in a repetitive manner magnifying the fact he was hesitant on whether he wanted to know or not.

"What is the meaning of the color ? What is this shard ?..."

After asking it, his eyes slid from the table to her emerald jewels with a determined gaze upon them. Asking the question had been the worst part of it but he was sure he wanted to know. The curiosity had to stop. He did not have a single idea of what it could mean and represent but it felt really important to him. Something being extract from you isn't meaningless. It wasn't the most important but he felt like it had become the center of the conversation. He however jumped back to the main reason and it was crafting. He was a tailor and maybe he could help her in achieving something she was wanting. She understood the advantages and disadvantages of the light armor and cloth armor and it was true that it was the armor which could be fully customized to one's style. He must have said something right for her to understand him incorrectly. She had taken it personally and he felt bad about it, he wasn't criticizing at all her clothes, he just thought that she would be pleased to have something much more suitable. He waved his hands in front of his own face as the make everything go away in a clumsy way with an unease smile. He had then tried offering his hand as a salutation about their meeting but he quickly back it off from the middle of the table tapping nervously his index against his own right cheek.

I'm dumb... I should have guessed it.

He nodded as she gave him the reason of her refusal and he also decided to put back the coat in his inventory. Sliding his finger once more in the air as the coat dematerialized in magnificent rainbow particles dimming into pure air. She had given her name which made him smile quite a bit but her voice was less then friendly. It was comparable to the icy wind which had started blowing on them. Her voice had almost given him a freezing feel deep inside. He shivered as his eyes twitched and a unpleasant chill ran down his spine as a snake.
Then... Everything slipped in the bad direction.

Oh... Is that how you feel about us ?...

He thought in a gloomy way. She had expressed most of her feelings on the spot, like a volcano erupting without giving notice to any of the surrounding population. During her monologue, she gave out many hints and many information about herself and her feelings. Slowly his head dropped down toward the table every time she spoke. He wanted to strangle her, she was only thinking about her perspective and not giving a damn about the one's around her. His hands started shaking and his head twitching in a robotic way.

Stop acting like you're one of us... I heard that... So many times.

It echoed through his mind as a scream of despair on a lonely snowy mountain.
He had heard that over many years, it was something he had heard on the other side but it was the first time he had heard it in this world. It was as if a slow and dark curtain had dropped upon his eyes and face and slowly covering his entire face.

Living life in shadows... I know, I know that feeling.

His right hand grasped at his chest seizing and griping the skin over his heart violently. It hurt, it hurt so bad, it was as if the beat had ceased and his head lowered even more. The rest of her arguments just felt like a spear thrown deep through his body, piercing his lungs and heart. It was hard for him to breath. He hadn't spoken about this for a long time and words seemed to disappear every single time he thought they were good enough to be spoken. He didn't have the chance to change characters before the Apolocalyse, else wise he wouldn't have been a Heretic, he had sort of misclicked the class he was currently personalized in. She had biased opinion on Adventurer's and he didn't doubt the fact that it could and would apply to any other people she would meet. She was stereotyped just as much as warden towards Heretics but here, Landers towards Adventurers. They had no idea of the other side of the coin they risked when dying.

She's wrong... This world is wrong.

Every limb of his body shook and twitched under his current feelings, it was as if a rampage had been going on inside his body and mind destroying anything it would find on its path and replacing it with utter darkness. He muttered angrily and in an exasperated tone of voice which she could of course hear.

"You are wrong... Definitively wrong..."

His tone had a pinch of sadness mixed in with the rest which could subtly be heard with the woman he was speaking to. His was voice struck by pauses as it seemed extremely hard for him to speak. His left hand came slowly to his throat gripping it tight as if to make the words come out.

"You... You without a doubt lived through miserable events ! It sure doesn't seem like fun..."

He paused as his voice trembled with a jerky breath.

"Who are you... How could you... You couldn't even imagine what others have lived. If you think you are the only one who lived like that... You are terribly, terribly wrong."

An uncontrolled tear slid from the corner of his right eye down the side of his nose, crossing his lips before dropping from his chin tenderly hitting the thin snow coat on the table, making a tiny round circle hot enough to melt the coating.

"I didn't chose... who I am. I didn't decide on what happened."

His blood red eyes showed a much darker side of his, they lifted brutally towards those of the elf as if an intent of murder had suddenly overflowed his mind and soul. The murderous glare clashed into her eyes as a dark thin coat slowly started to cover his body and evaporating from his clothes. One could easily feel an unpleasant aura as well as a sadistic intent coming from the white haired boy. It was terrifying on how quickly his mood changed as well as his expressions. However, he decided to say the least possible about himself and his past as he felt his heart beat faint every step he took into that discussion. It was hurting so much, memories, reminiscence of the past was an awful one.

Past is a nice place to visit, but not a nice play to stay...

He tried calming down, but the subject irritated so much, Widow was wrong, completely biased and didn't know what feeling adventurers could bring birth to in such a new world. Especially those with a non forgiving past. He decided to try and enlighten her way of thinking but bringing up a recent detail that only applied to those of his kind.

"Would you prefer dying or forgetting ?... Sure, you are right. We can come back to life. But you are wrong... To come back to life we have to give an offering which is a part of our memory. Every single time, we forget more of what we were, until one day forgetting it all... WHO would you be without memories ?"

His face had a sorrowed and saddened expression. He had insisted on each and every one of his words meaning them. His tone was bleak and dark yet with a bit of conflict in it. He was deliberately pointing out the things she had forgotten to mention and pointed them right at her face. She merged both her shard and his and it resulted in a black shared with a red core, glowing with a slow heart beat just like his own. It was a dark blood red which seemed as if the red was being sucked by a infinite void. His words felt empty of feelings as if he had himself been sucked by a black hole representing void and disaster.

She handed out a journal with several antique pages with drawings and writings only her kind could read. She flipped them one at a time before stopping and pinpointing the request she was interested in. She even asked him aggressively if he was able to make it in a defying voice. He nodded, exasperated as he spoke.

"I'll help you do that I suggested it first so I won't back off... But I hope this is the last time we will meet..."

The words were spoken in a vivid way, they were harsh and brutal and feelings were radiating like a nuclear wave of toxic radiation. They were meant to hurt. But even, what could possibly hurt a person you had just met and didn't seem to go along with ? She wouldn't give a damn of that. She would take the craft and they would part ways. That's how he pictured the end of this "session". His blood and dark red eyes pierced through hers and clearly didn't reflect the naive boy he had once been at the beginning of the conversation, they diffused something completely different, something deep inside of him which would seem locked down deep inside, yet fragile and ready to burst at any moment.
They weren't two birds of the same feather, they weren't the same breed. But maybe they had endured difficult past events. Were they that far apart ? Were they all that different deep down ?
Wind blew through the table continuously, his ash white hair danced as locked intertwined with others and unwind in a sort of magical way it was as if this wasn't really happening and was all just a dream.
But it wasn't.

Words: 2085
Tags: Widow
Post Theme: Munö

[Widow]

HP 100% | MP 75%

Heretic - Apprentice - Alchemist

____________________________________________________

 A wave of her hand dismissed the jacket that he had so kindly offered. A subtle gesture that held little significance to Widow other than to remind her that she didn’t need anyone or anything in this world for that matter. People always were nice to her just to get close to her. To retrieve some bit of knowledge or have an artifact appraised. Others would simply just want her to make jewels for them so that they may wear fancy jewels among their even fancier robes.



The male asked about the nature of the color and as to what the shard meant. Widow paused for a moment, reflecting upon the jewel and after many moments of ascertaining the boy’s body language, she passed judgment that he was not ready to hear such things. Certain people in this world shouldn’t be trusted with certain information. Not even about themselves. Widow’s pale white hand covered the jewel as to hide it from his sight for the time being as she leaned in and whispered.



“Istan quetë ya merin, ar lá hanyuvatyen” (I can say what I wish, and you won’t understand me.)



He seem to accept the fact that she wouldn’t agree to using the jacket for warmth that he had offered. With a wave of his finger, it dematerialized into a radiant glimmer of light, sparkling as the dust gently dissipated upon the floor. His face began to display a melancholy expression as he was disappointment by either her words or her actions, he seemed to be breaking down emotional with every word that she whispered that cut like a knife.



He gripped at his face, enduring the torment of his internal struggle. Black fingernails gripping at his chest angrily as blood stained eyes gazed at the table. His spirit was suffocating, his body was rejecting the words Widow whispered to him. The wrath inside his veins was beginning to boil uncontrollably.



Widow seemed unwavering in her gaze. After all, she was already able to see into the window of his soul and knew what he was. She simply observed the specimen for reactivity. She planted seeds on sin in his heart and wanted to see what weeds would bloom. Pandomonium and hysteria rattled his bones as his weary darkened heart muttered a bold opinion.



He sounded winded, as his left hand gripped his throat while his sobs choked on the words. He tried to empathize with Widow shortly. Widow mirrored this in no way. Holding no sympathy for the imposing Half-Alv.



Though his words accused her of not being truthful. She remained firm in her resolve. The only ones like her were her people. He, however, would never fit into that category. They would never share the same fate so long as he drew breath.



He began to fib about how he didn’t choose. Widow scoffed in her mind. She didn’t believe an ounce of the notion of what the bow was trying to sale her. She knew that adventurers had a choice. She knew that above all else, adventurers in this world desired power.



His nature began to grow ever darker as he lifted the crimson shade of his eyes in unfiltered animosity towards Widow, who cut her own emerald eyes towards him in sheer resistance. Unlike the volatility of the untamed beast before her, her gaze showed no fear of death nor animosity that was aimed at her. She found herself in many life or death situations. She certainly wasn’t intimidated by a crying fool. He was like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum because life wasn’t going his way. He exuded weakness and Widow smelled it on him, despite his guise to seem malicious.



Just as a prepubescent child, she watched his short-lived anger revert back to a subtler stage as he regained his senses somewhat. The town guards seemed to be whispering and muttering about his odd behaviour and simply watched from afar, believing it to be a famiy dispute.



He muttered sad words trying to reason with the elf by muttering the burden of the adventurers and their curse. Widow listened carefully, gathering new information about them, but once directed with a blunt answer she responded by gripping at his wrist.



“I’d be free!” She shouted.



“Forgetting is like lighting a candle. The candle might dissapear, but the wax is still there.!”



“Forget your past and begin again. You’re still you. Just blessed with the essence of reincarnation. You still get to leave behind a legacy, even if you’ll never know it. You will get to leave your mark on this earth for an eternity. I, however, will be forgotten. I, however, can never forget. I ,however, will become nothing but shards of bubbles that flow back into the anima stream. It’s the same fate, but worse. What memories are their for a dead person. Just because you forget something, doesn’t mean you’re not still you. ”



“You all get to keep the same inventory when you die, correct? Then just make a personal journal. Put a picture of yourself in there. Write a damn autobiography and keep it close to your heart. Draw pictures of friends and loved ones that way you never forget their face. Write down names and details of everyone in your friends list.”



“It’s simple. Quit making excuses. And quit neeping crying! It’s pathetic! Get rid of that spirit of self-pity! You have all the power in the world, to improvise, adapt, and overcome!”



She later paused, releasing his wrist, and giving him time to digest her words as she resumed her tasks of alchemy and retrieving her journal.



He muttered a statement about never wanting to see her again, which didn’t even make her blink. She simply looked down at the picture and stated firmly.



“I don’t care whether we see each other again. Some people are only meant to be in your life for a season like a passing leaf in the blowing wind...I just hope you learned something that will help you stop wallowing in self-pity...if you’re going to live forever, that’s a miserable way to live...but that’s your choice. ”



She reclined in her chair and began to heave another mana fragment shard from her skin muttering the same elven incantation as before. This one held a shimmering emerald gleam that began to get showered with light flakes of snow.



She began twirling it around in her fingers as she gazed at the picture on the journal, waiting to see how the Half-Alv would proceed.
Her emerald eyes casting a firm glare upon him. 

INVENTORY

EQUIPMENT: Starter Cloth Armor, Starter Longsword, Starter Longsword
ABILITIES USED: None.
Words: 1100
Post Theme Song: Stand Up

Stabalized Mana Fragment Count: 1
Mana Fragment count: 1



TAGS: Mitsuru Kirishima 

template by caesar

[Mitsuru Kirishima]

She hadn't answered to his question about the shard and its meaning. She did however speak in her mother tongue which he couldn't decipher. His red gaze focused on the shard but yet again she covered the jewel as to hide it from him making him snap back from his thoughts. She was definitively hiding something and that something he wanted to know it badly. She stayed muted to the whole situation which had been going on and the speech he had spoken. His heart had gone lighter after he had finished, but he did not imagine her to answer as she was going to. He felt a flow of comfort and a steady flow of easiness after finishing his last words. His mouth expelled condensation as the moisture of his inner body which temperature was warmer then outside. The smoky cloud faded out of his mouth before completely disappearing. As he finished speaking about his perspective on seeing things he paused, but it was long before he felt a grip upon him.

Hm ?...

Her hand and fingers closed angrily on his wrist as to keep him in place to make him hear how wrong he was. His eyes were at first focused on the sudden grip, slid slowly towards her chin, mouth, nose and finally eyes as he tilted his head, reluctant at this contact.

Why...

What he heard mad him dive back in the state he had been several instants before. He felt his heart was getting beaten by a mad drummer, feeling his insides twisting and untwisting. He felt sorrow throughout his entire body, but kept eye contact. The blood in his veins was boiling as each word the women spit at him.

She would be free... Is that really what she thinks ?

How could someone wish to forget ? It was understandable, but forgetting is forgetting who you are, what you are, where you are from and what happened. He couldn't agree less to her point of view. His eyelids twitch as did the corners of his mouth. He slightly shook his head before looking back at the grip she was tightening around his wrist. It didn't seem possible to speak with her. It came to his curiosity of what had happened to her for such a dead end conversation. What was worse than someone who wouldn't simply try to understand your point of view ? Had he done the same thing to her ? Did she feel that way ?... His hands went loose, his arms went limp, and she was the only thing keeping it straight. As he grip loosened, his arms dropped on the table as would a dead animal.

"Writing is a good idea... But it isn't a solution is it ? You'll still feel that hole inside of you as missing pieces in your whole, your soul won't remember and you will always question whether what you wrote really did exist..."

Is wasn't worth speaking, she had her mind set and they wouldn't ever coexist as the same. His voice was out of motivation. It was empty toned as if she had inspired doom inside of him, destroying his ounces of hope. His body froze, his bones were ice cold and he couldn't feel his heart beat anymore. It was as if she had killed him with words. The tone of her voice, mysterious and dreamful but yet knife sharp words. His body fell in doubt, doubt she had just given birth to. Was she right ? No...She couldn't, but something somewhere told him that he wasn't entirely right himself. Were they both wrong ? Was he living in a dream, not aware of reality ? He felt like a raw stone ready to be sculpted into a piece of art, ripped piece by piece until he became something someone else wanted. Was he just a puppet ? She shook his trembling head at a slow rate trying to slip from this situations grasp.
His eyes had slipped from left to right checking on the people who were watching them, had he gone too far ? He needed to calm down and they had to get back to normal business. It wasn't the right place nor the right time to speak about such things and he wasn't even here for that in the first place.
His eyes fell upon her once again, trying to find what she was missing. Was it feelings ? Was it a heart ? She seemed as cold as the weather, freezing and sharp like a stalactite. He felt close to her, by the inches separating them which was the table but also thousands of miles away from what she was. This discussion stroke into his mind the question of who he really was and what he was. But her expressions were blank as a bed sheet and smooth like silk.

Are all the elves like this ? Do all the landers feel the same way as she does ?

She once again decided to extract another shard, emerald this time, the same color of her eyes. The light pulsing out of it reflected in his hellfire eyes. Was the world all so discriminative ? He didn't knew, and hope it wasn't. Why would she reject him without knowing what he was made of, who he was ? He was made of ideas, feelings and an immense variety of different things, but she, she didn't seem to care at all. He didn't want to get any further in this subject and decided that the previous question was his last one.

Apparently not everyone is meant to coexist. Maybe one day we'll both be on the opposing sides to each other.

At that thought he shivered, his hands joined once again forming a ball. The red fire balls glanced at the elf, then back to the book, opened on the table. He wondered how he would proceed in such, but he had noticed an interesting thing earlier on. On her character display HUD appeared "Apprentice", he had read much information about different crafting class and this one had been particularly unique in its genre. He knew that with an apprentice he could be a sort of teacher and show them the way of his crafting class. He would be like a mentor and would guide them into making clothes. A novice tailor. He couldn't forget what they had just exchanged earlier on. He couldn't forgive her words nor the person she was. He didn't know much but it seemed as if their relationship was going to be a Yin Yang one.

"Anyways..." he said in a melancholic voice.

The booklet flipped several pages because of the freezing wind, his index rapidly stopped them and ran through several pages back, pinpointing the sketch.

"It's mostly cutting cloth and putting it together."

He slid his finger, as a paper and pen appeared his hands. He swiftly sketched how to cut through the cloth and different subtle details which were asked in the booklet he had under his eyes. After finishing writing and sketching information, he gave the paper to the woman, he didn't have any time to spend on waiting, so he dropped it in front of her. Without looking at Widow he spoke as if he was alone but addressing himself to her.

"You should take care of cutting those in the correct measurements. Those were written in your journal, and it looks like they were yours."

His eyes wouldn't lie, he had read those measurements, more like scanning them, but they seemed to fit the body he saw just sitting in front of him.

"You are an apprentice right ? So I guess you don't mind putting your hands on this."

His tone had gone to joyful, angry, empty and now emotionless in the conversation. He didn't really even care anymore, he had a job to do and it had to be done. They had played enough and spoken enough, it was now time to get to work.

"While you do that, I'll figure out how to organize, harmonize and arrange the clothing together to get what you request as a final result."

His eyes stopped on the jewelry and sighed. They looked beautiful, but would they fit such a lonely and ice cold lady ?

"I won't be able to help with the jewelry. You'll have to find someone else for that."

Everything seemed to be easier on this craft. It wasn't as hard as Saskia's dress by far, it wouldn't be the hardest one to sew. The whole concept of the dress was based on two layers, a black one and a crimson brown one. The black underneath on the upper part of the body which was the chest and the arms. And for the lower part which were the waist and the legs, the black was over the crimson. However there was a white piece of clothing on top of every other layers from her waist to her lower ribs. The high socks would just be black cloth with red shoes/boots and dark ink bootlaces.
His chin rested in the palm of his right hand as if it seemed boring to craft. At least he had an apprentice and would be able to make her do it almost on her own and thus getting more satisfaction out of it.

"After that, I'll show you how to sew everything together."

He materialized other tailoring equipment as scissors, a measuring tape, needles etc... His hands pushed them towards the woman as he straightened his back and gaze into her emerald eyes.

Who are you. He wondered.

Words: 1611
Tags: Widow
Post Theme: Arrange

 

[Widow]

HP 100% | MP 75%

Heretic - Apprentice - Alchemist

____________________________________________________

Her thoughts reflected upon the man’s question with light ounces of intrigue as he proposed a potential loophole in her theory. Someway to bridge the gap between the known and the unknown. To fill the gap between what was remembered and what had been soon forgotten. The words the boy spoke resonated with bits of truth as she cautiously spoke, trying to point out the potential flaws. She began to wonder if his questions were rhetorical or if they were sincere questions of interest that he was hoping she would have an answer for. Her eyes fell blankly at the table, wavering for that brief moment as she glanced down at the table, deep in thought. As a studying Alchemist, she was one of the researchers of both magic and science of this world. Whenever people presented a problem to her, she often became fascinated by her new findings. Whenever she studied something new, she wanted to research it diligently and try to find possible solutions or a way to override what tragedy may have been caused. Widow believed that through enough research, experimentation, trial and error anything could be made possible.



Her eyes shifted back up at him as he looked towards the crowd and felt a sense of unsettlement. He seemed to withdraw from the situation and most of his energy seemed to be focusing inward. He was deep in thought, about what, Widow had no clue. Possibly he was reflecting upon the memories he had left. He seemed to be very emotional, so Widow thought maybe he was the type to have a few people in the world he held close to him that he may have possibly cared about.



He sounded like he let out an exasperated sigh as the cutting winds picked back up and blew away the page Widow had bookmarked, but luckily the Half-Alv imposter was able to find them. He revealed a sheet of paper and a quill and with great haste he began to make a quick drawing with just enough detail to demonstrate how to cut each particular piece out of the cloth. He finally came to a close in his drawing and shifted the example across the table towards Widow. She picked it up and began to examine it, occasionally darting her green eyes around the edges to look at the man as he spoke. He inquired as to her subclass and if she was familiar with the hands-on approach.



“Yes, I can do that. I prefer the hands-on approach anyways. I learn much better that way. Though, I like to take notes sometimes as well.”



She didn’t seem to care to much for his tone of voice as she preferred him to be in a docile nature and whereas most of the words she spoke were commonly emotionless, she found them to resonate with the most stability for the situation as any escalation in emotion may around unneeded intensities.



The man began to inform her of wht part of the project he would be working on while she was busy cutting the cloth. He sounded sure of himself, and Widow silently appreciated this.



“Alright. Makes sense.”



She was short with her words as she watched his eyes drift to a certain section of her drawing in concern. This made her raise a worried brow with much concern, but it was quickly relieved when he mentioned jewelry.



“Ah, right. As far as the jewelry, you won’t have to worry much about that. I can handle that myself with Alchemy. It’s one of our specialties.”



She whispered confidently as she began to take some of the tailoring equipment offered by man. She nodded briefly towards his last remark and began to cut the pieces of cloth as he had instructed with the scissors. She worked diligently and methodically trying to be precise as possible. Her hands moved with a passion of purpose as she felt radiant positive emotions.



Her thoughts began to reflect upon her mother. A renown sage in the forests of Pandora and high alchemists among her people. It was one of Widow’s fond memories of her mother.



Memories...



Have I been truly desiring to keep them this whole time?



Am I still just a fragile little girl, holding unto the cloth of this dress like I’m clutching unto those tender memories?



What do you do when it hurts to remember?



And it’s equally painful to just try and forget?



Her hands paused as she clutched the crimson cloth in her hand.



She paused briefly and looked up at the male. She wanted to say something to him, but the hardness of her heart wouldn’t allow it. She looked back down at the cloth and proceeded to work.



Afterwards, she had placed two [Filaments] on the table and pointed towards them.



“I’ll be working on these as well, in tandem with the mana fragments. They will help give the jewelry a radiant gleam. I just need to check them for reactivity and make sure they can hold a charge.”

She informed as she held both of them up and began to pulse the essence of her mana into them. They began to glow brighter, thus proving that they weren’t defective in any way, and she simply laid them back on the table.



“So now that we are done cutting, what’s next?” She inquired as she rested her hands on the table.

INVENTORY

EQUIPMENT: Starter Cloth Armor, Starter Longsword, Starter Longsword
ABILITIES USED: None.
Words: 903
Post Theme Song: Solaris

Stabalized Mana Fragment Count: 1
Mana Fragment count: 1
FIlaments: 2 



TAGS: Mitsuru Kirishima 

template by caesar

[Mitsuru Kirishima]

She's doing fine.

His hellfire eyes peeked several times while he was doing the rest on how to arrange and organize the sewing of the whole outfit. It was hard and he had almost finished doing so. She was doing extremely fine and her Apprentice subclass was without a doubt helping her out. She seemed fluid in the cuts. She was agile with the scissors were to the point and she was error free on them. The female had taken in the tailoring process pretty fast and she would finish faster than he had thought if she continued at such a pace. She had agreed in following what he told her to do and sighed in relief seeing her do so. At least it wouldn't be another "fight" to get her to follow his orders and that was neat.

She has talent. If she continues to go so fast i'll be the one late.

He nodded in satisfaction but quickly got back to his work, sketching the different places which had to be sewn together. It started to look like something and the sketch was getting much better at each outline he drew. He simply nodded to each thing the woman said to him concerning the fact that she was comfortable with hands-on and would learn faster. It was also his opinion and that was also the way he worked. Having hands-on experience wasn't negligible for a crafting class that was only composed of hands-on experience. Tailoring was all about making thing come out of the paper and build an outfit from threads and cloth. It was kind of magical to be able to do so. Extract the sketch on the paper and make it live in your world, wear and tear it. Build, destroy and rebuild. A small corner smile slipped onto his lips at such a thought.

"You are doing good. It's impressive !"

He meant it, even if they had not been on good terms since the beginning of this "session". His tone of voice showed that he was impressed with her skills and with her doing such a great job. He wouldn't even need to actually craft the outfit himself, she was going to do it under his eyes and advice. At least he could just sit back and relax while she would actually make her dress from scratch.
His red eyes focused upon her face, looking her features. While she was at task she paused, clutching the crimson red cloth in her hands. His eyes then swiftly moved to the right as he saw her peeking towards him. She seemed troubled, she seemed to want to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth. She just decided to get back to work and she words snapped his eyes back to hers.
He nodded and added :

"That's a very nice idea !"

It was an amazing idea, incorporating magical items to cloth to add different features. It was the first time someone had even thought about such with him around. He smiled and tilted his head on the right thinking back again to that expression of hers instants before. His eyes tried finding the shard she had extracted from him, he saw a dark red glow under cloth as she had hidden it from his sight earlier on. She spoke again snapping him once again out of his thinking. Blinking multiple times as if he had heard something else but he hadn't, she had already finished cutting the cloth in the shapes he had mentioned.

"Oh... Ehh.. Wow..."

He grabbed the cloth she had cut, his red gaze analyzing it swiftly as if they were scanners. He nodded and smiled before dropping back the cloth on the frozen table, tilting his head to the side and piercing her eyes with his.

"Great job... Well it's mostly done. The cutting was the hardest part of the outfit."

He pointed in the journal she had opened earlier, he showed with his index parts of the dress.

"So, as you can see, most of the dress is about the cut of the cloth. The rest is just sewing different layers of different color on top of each other... Let's take one arm, I'll show you how to do so and you'll be able to do the rest on your own I guess."

He spoke calmly, his right hand slipped from his chin to the table and grabbed needle and thread as well as a piece of crimson cloth and black. He took the ones specially cut for the arms and started sewing with precaution. The cloth was a bit elastic for it to actually be tight around the skin and fit extremely well to the person wearing it.
He sewed them into long sleeved gloves and added small stitches at the end of the elbow for it to show up just like it was on the drawing in her journal. His hands worked as an Origamist playing with the needle between his fingers and with the cloth swiftly but nonetheless cautiously. In approximetly 5 to 10 minutes he had finished the complete long gloves making sure they were at the good dimensions.

"There you go... I hope it fits."

He handed the glove to the woman and nodded as to say "Try it on." He then pushed his papers towards her on which he had drew the different parts to sew and how to do so. She had everything to pretty much finish the dress. She just had to do as he had just shown her and follow the instruction on the papers with the measurements. He smiled satisfied until drafting into his thoughts.

I hope she'll appreciate the glove and that it'll fit her correctly. I might have been impolite earlier on, should I apologize for my behavior ?

His eyes drifted to the top right corner looking at the snowflakes gliding in mid air as they moved with the wind.

The past, the present, all of those concepts were just built by human beings and forced into people's mind by society.
Memories... Are they just here to hurt me ? Are they here to haunt my soul ? What about her ? She seems to fear speaking of such even though she didn't show any feelings show earlier. Why does she seem so hesitant.

He didn't know and would probably never know.

Would forgetting be better then remembering ? Should I just die as many times as it would need to forget ?

Words: 1084
Tags: Widow

 

[Widow]

HP 100% | MP 70%

Heretic - Apprentice - Alchemist

____________________________________________________

Her hands worked meticulously to cut the cloth at the various the tailor had prescribed It was a tedious and repetitive task as she weaved the scissors through several layers of cloth. She made sure to let the inside of the edges ride up the cloth to make a clean cut. Though her back began to ache from being hunched over the workbench. She let out an exhalation of stress as she blinked her weary eyes. She had not slept in two days for fear of being to close to the land of Avon and risk the chance of being caught while sleeping in a camp. She had slowly began to sink into the weakened state and succumbed to the effects of sleep exhaustion. She closed her eyes, shutting them tightly and gripped the bridge of her nose as she listened to the voice of the young man offer praise and words of affirmation for her adept skills with the scissors.



The words voiced sincere compliments, though it seemed as if she really didn’t care one way or another, she did welcome them. Widow had an appreciation for learning new things and his words made her feel somewhat more validated as an apprentice and novice tailor. She didn’t really care that he thought well of her, but she figured it must mean that at least the dress would come out unhindered, which should be a good thing.



After she finished he complimented her on how she had performed once more and she nodded calmly when he said that the hardest task had already been accomplished. That meant the most strenuous part was over and now it wouldn’t take long for the final product to be complete. It seemed the aura about the room had settled down into a calm and tranquil one. The guards seemed to go about there business and the duo did not receive anymore weird glances.



She watched with intrigue as he made the glove. She didn’t try to hide the attention she gave the task at all as she mentally took notes on how he performed such a task. When he finished, she realized that it was the black glove she had drawn for the outfit. When he offered it to her, she slid her slender arm within and allowed her fingers to slip out from the wholes. The beauty of the glove seemed to be in contrast to her messy and unkempt appearance, but it still look lovely if one were to just focus on how it adorned her pale skin.



She inspected it with her Emerald eyes and nodded approvingly in silence. She then proceeded to whisper another elven incantation and produce another mana fragment and bonded it with the other. Creating another stabalized mana fragment in the shape of a hemi-sphere. Her eyes then drifted back to the filaments on the table, then up towards Mitsu to observe what he had been doing. There would be a noticeable wave of silence that loomed over her in these moments as she seemed deep in thought. Reflecting upon fond memories she had with her mother.

INVENTORY

EQUIPMENT: Starter Cloth Armor, Starter Longsword, Starter Longsword
ABILITIES USED: None.
Words: 520
Post Theme Song: Solaris

Stabalized Mana Fragment Count: 2
FIlaments: 2 



TAGS: Mitsuru Kirishima 

template by caesar

[Mitsuru Kirishima]

Everything had gone nicely since that had started crafting and getting into the main of the subject. Her emerald eyes showed concentration all along from the start. She had been fully into the craft and it was pleasant to see someone give so much of them to get what they wanted. Her arm gently slid through the glove as her slender fingers came out from the end of it. The way she did the movement made him shiver, the gesture was covered in finesse and savoir-faire. It was very feminine compared to what she desired showing to others.

Are you the type of person who hides behind masks...? he pondered.

As he had advised, she continued working on the outfit, he didn't have much to do anymore and was much more in a supervising and guiding role then actually helping out and crafting himself. He was that kind of hands-on person and would only make it work if he did it and so was she. Mitsu' didn't like theory that much and thought it was good for basics but that afterwards you needed to practice, give it a shot. His parents had always told him, practice makes perfect and they weren't wrong on that point.

"You are doing good."

He felt like he had to say something through the cold blowing wind and the immense silence that had swept upon the table. Two heretics in a town with such a peaceful atmosphere, it was a rare sight, their kind would mostly be chased by others and feared by many, but today wasn't that kind of day. He sighed slightly relieved that they had arrived to a peaceful situation and that nothing wrong would happen anymore. It couldn't really be qualified of peaceful but more like a truce. She without a doubt maybe hated him and he disliked her as well for the words she had spoke earlier on. Nonetheless he was here to help her get the crafting done and then he would without a doubt vanish and get some fresh air somewhere else.

"You should be careful Widow..."

His hellfire eyes were scrutinizing her agile and quick fingers as she manipulated the threads and the needle just almost as well as he did. He warned her on the speed because it wasn't speed that made quality but patience and precision. Moreover, the faster you went the more problems you could bump into... Like..

"Humph..."

Just like that, the needle pierced through her thin finger skin and bubble of blood started forming at that precise location. His eyes then slowly moved to the face of Widow, raising an eyebrow puzzled he thought.

No reaction? That's odd... Not even a little tiny micro expression

Without a second hesitation he grabbed a piece of tissue which was on the table and applied it gently onto her finger quickly removing his hand letting her do the rest. He thought that she might get possibly misinterpret that gesture of his and get mad but he didn't really mind. He didn't do that in a bad intention but just to help out.

"You shouldn't go as fast for the first time, you might get errors in the craft which you will, without a doubt, regret later on..."

His curious eyes tried finding that shard she had extracted earlier from him, but couldn't seem to get a glimpse, he really wanted to know what it was and what the color meant. He recalled it was dark red just like his eyes but did it have a signification, was there a meaning to that shard?
Anyhow he stretched out hands towards the cloudy and snowy sky and smiling. It sure did feel great to breathe deeply.

Words: 619
Post theme : Glassy Sky
Tags: Widow

[Widow]

HP 100% | MP 70%

Heretic - Apprentice - Alchemist

____________________________________________________

While working on the fashion project, Widow reached out and grabbed the sewing materials from the man that sat across the table, pausing a moment for their eyes to connect as she cradled the items during the transfer. She was improving over time and during sessioned, she quickly built up speed and intensity as muscle memory began to take effect.



However, her eyes were still getting adjusted to the light and that quivered for merely a fraction of a second. Being a prisoner, she was always surrounded in a tomb of darkness. She lived most her life buried in a hole underground that was void of light. She knew all too well that her eyes may never adjust to the light of day the same again.



The images still were fresh on her mind. The beautiful birds that flew through the sky as she made her first step into the outside world after several forsaken years. The broken bodies that lie on the floor as the prelude to victory for the fall of the prison hidden deep within the mines of Sarum. The boy who’s body laid etched in the sand as she knelt over his corpse back then as slowly shut his eyes.



The blood drips from her finger. She pauses, but is unaware of the damage as she only sees the image of the boy plastered in her mind. The words of her surroundings are drown out and seems like a mixed vortex of sounds.



Her eyes flicker back to the man across the table as he keeps talking, her eyes cut into a skeptical squint as she eyes the tissue he places over her finger. Her emeral eyes drift down and sees it. She rubs her thumb in circles over the wound, spearing the blood on the tip of her fingers. With the blood on her fingers she makes a mark on the table. It is a crimson pentagram.



Sensually her eyes flicker back up to the Half-Alv, before turning back to her labors as she conitues to sew the pieces of cloth together, this time slowing down and being more thorough.



“I’ll try to go slower then. It would have to come out right this time or I’ll hae to start all over...” Widow muttered as she kept up the superb needlework.



After a few hours of work she finally finished the product.



“Here. It is finished. Is there anything else?” She inquired as her gaze fell on the other pedestrians that shot them several glances. She could see it in their body language. They were whispering about them. She captured their eyes glancing down at her miasma inhibitors, and she hid her arms under the table for a moment.



She didn’t like the way things were going. There might have been trouble soon ifshe didn’t get out of the area quickly.



“We have to hurry. I will have to be leaving soon. “ Widow said casually as she tried not to alert Mitsuru to what she felt was really going on. She could see the woman speaking to a town guard and making shifty eyed glares at Widow.

INVENTORY

EQUIPMENT: Starter Cloth Armor, Starter Longsword, Starter Longsword
ABILITIES USED: None.
Words: 522
Post Theme Song: Stand Up

Stabalized Mana Fragment Count: 2
FIlaments: 2 



TAGS: Mitsuru Kirishima 

template by caesar

[Mitsuru Kirishima]

While she was working on the fashion project he had started warning her about the speed and agility of her hands and that she had been using with the needle. However his words didn't seem to matter at all until she picked her finger with the deadly needle, creating a bubble of blood to which he had responded with giving her a piece of tissue which she had used. What kept him perplex was that his words didn't seem to make contact with her. She seemed to be thinking about something else, she seemed to be in another world where he couldn't reach her. However, when his fingers made contact with hers and the tissue she seemed to snap back to reality.
His hellfire eyes scrutinized her face and it was almost the first time he had seen emotion thrown on it. He didn't know what she was thinking about but it surely didn't seem like anything wonderful or happy.

Hours had passed since she had started working on her own and they had been exchanging about how to craft correctly and how to sew different parts. It had been a casual discussion from the start of the session but something had been starting to get odd. Anyways, she had completely finished the crafting and it looked exactly as the sketch in the book. The cold weather continued to blow across their table and the streets bringing despair with it and strange glares from outsiders to their conversation and activity.

"Great job, you did it all by yourself in the end, I didn't really contribute apart from a couple of advice."

The session arrived to its end and Mitsu nodded calmly with a smile on his face.

"No it's all there is to it. It's finished."

He had caught her odd behavior, her eyes shot from left to right looking at the people who were actually looking at them. Oddly enough a sort of dark atmosphere swept around their table as he could imagine what everyone was saying about them. He wasn't stupid and he knew it was because of them being Heretics and mostly directed towards the woman : Widow. He slapped with both of his palms the snow powdered table creating a snowy dust in front of him.

What is happening?

The moment she hid those miasma inhibitors made him tilt and understand several things he hadn't been able to think of earlier on. His head leaned on to the right as he continued looking at Widow much more interested in what she could let one imagine. She wasn't just what she pretended to be and there was much more to. Anyhow he got up to his feet and breathed deeply. Did you never have that feeling that when you take a break, close your eyes and deeply breath in, you feel the world is wonderful? Well that was the feeling Mitsu just had. His eyelids reopened slowly as his pupils gazed upon the woman's face.

"You should indeed leave. I think this is a goodbye..." He whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

He turned on his heels and started walking on the cobblestone street as if he was sliding on his feet.
For a reason or another people seemed to feel anxious around that woman and they ill intentioned minds could be read miles away. Maybe he would see her again one day, maybe this was really a good bye. In any case he couldn't just let her get into trouble with him around and it wouldn't be acceptable for guards to jump onto a woman just because of her past.

"Excuse me Sir..."

His voice was clear enough for the guard and the woman just beside him to hear. Their eyes quickly shifted onto him as he smiled naively. For each step he took a dark shade started to materialize around him, he could see their eyes open wide and their pupils stretch as fear stroke their hearts. Mitsu continued walking towards them as he drew the attentions and eyes of all the folks around on him.

This is what she needs, a calm and swift escape and I'm giving her just that opportunity.

Face to face with the guard, his hellfire eyes pierced through his faking a murderous intent which would for any lander strike fear into their mind. The dark aura engulfed his entire body and it didn't feel right to be near him. Corruption would start poisoning all of those around him but he did not wish to hurt or kill them, just buy time for the woman with whom he had had a crafting session. Maybe she would respect or reckon what he was currently doing later on. Mitsu was in a lucky day, indeed that guard didn't have heavy armor covering his chest, he clenched his right first as hard as he possibly could and threw his best punch into the guard's solar plexus.

"..."

Silence swept through the plaza and all the eyes were glancing towards him. He could hear murmurs about the situation of all the people near the guard in a look of panic. His red eyes shifted slowly from left to right looking at other landers as if he was asking them if they wanted the same thing.
The guard had dropped to his knees hands on his chest trying to find a way in breathing. Mitsu kneeled down and brought his lips near to the guard's ears.

"We do not seek enemies. We just want to live like you, live a normal life and be considered as normal people. You only wish we disappeared and had never existed. Can we not live in peace?"

He jumped back to his feet and straightened his back, the dark aura dispersed as Mitsu turned right and started walking away from this place. Nothing had to be done in this place anymore and he could leave. He hoped she had left while he had tried drawing attention on him. He didn't try to find her, he looked straight in front of him as he knew everyone eyes were following his actions.

He disappeared in the distance melting with the blizzard of snow as other guards rushed to the one still on the ground, called by other landers still flabbergasted by what had just happened.

Words: 1056
Posting Theme: Feel the Freedom
Tags: Widow