Sing to the Moon [Tom, Open]

Open for Play
A large forest in Central Anaxas, the once-thriving mostly human town of Dorhaven is recovering from a bombing in 2719 at its edge.

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Elias Mercucianno
Posts: 51
Joined: Wed Jan 30, 2019 6:21 am
Topics: 8
Race: Galdor
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Writer: Raksha
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Sat Feb 23, 2019 5:09 pm

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39th Achtus
Toy Lantern
Evening
H​​urte save him, there was lip biting!

Elias sipped his chan with a small sound of appreciation, placing it down and raising his eyebrows at the girls much to bold assumption he would pay for anything for anyone, lest it was of his own choosing. The green and gold gaze turned onto her with a dangerous smile.

“You’re lucky he’s pretty, otherwise right now, you would be very very sorry—” The older red head’s voice snapped through the haze of opium and chan, drawing Eli’s attention with a giggle.

Rosh? Come on, I’ve slept with a few wicks, but don’t bring yourself down to talking their talk sir. You sound like a fool. I can afford the price, dear boy, its the principal of it. If I let every bar-bitch sling my generosity willy nilly without my permission, I’d be broke. Well…I’d be less…endowed. But since you offer…” He waved his hand at the girl, dismissing her as unimportant and uninteresting.

“Put it on his tab, and go away. Shoo.” As he turned back to face the lip-biting, delightfully-smiling youth, he made an audible sound of disappointment as the brunette slipped into a chair rather than the lap he had made so clearly available.

Oh, but there was hand touching and the world was alright again.

“I suppose you’re right, pet. Besides, between you and I, I’m probably way to clocking wasted to actually do anything about it.” He laughed loudly, hysterically, before grabbing the chan with his free hand and taking another sip. The bitter liquid was sweetened with something over the top to try and hide its taste, but some things were just unhideable. The other galdori had suddenly lept from his seat, as the moon-kissed creature on the stage brought his bizarre foreign music to a close, beautiful but so many vowels, and Elias couldn’t help but grin and watch the older man with a bemused eye.

Old drunk clearly couldn’t hold his liquor.

Turning back to the younger man beside him, the Bastian hummed.

“So…interesting. So pretty. What are you pet? Aside from human, I can smell that on you from a mile away. You’re not Anaxi, I can tell. You’re far too scrumptious for that. You’re not quite Bastian, but you’d do well there. Well. In the right circles. You’re absolutely not Hoxian or Hessean, and no Gioran. So what are you?” Elias mused, pursing his lips and looking the man over from top to bottom, his eyes quite suddenly distracted as the Gioran drifted like silks caught in the breeze from the stage right towards their table.

“Oh, hello, have you come to play with me?” The dark haired galdor purred, his head following the lithe creature as they slinked around the table and dragged fine manicured nails along the back of his chair. He turned his head slightly, smirking and half expecting those lovely fingers to rest on his shoulders. They didn’t though, instead the beautiful pale being moved along, teasingly slow, to leave the table and head towards the bar. Elias turned his head the other way to watch them go, his smirk turning into a pout. Vile, self deprecating thoughts bubbled to the surface.

Not worthy of even a wicks look in. Not worthy of anything. Have another hit, take another drink. Go find somewhere to cry yourself to sleep you pathetic creature.

“That’s no fair. Don’t make me chase you pretty. Oh, that’s…oh yes…where were we?” Intoxicated, inebriated, and so easily distracted, the man hummed through his nose as he looked back at the human and realized he was still as delicious as he had been a minute ago, leaning forward with a raised brow and shaking of his self loathing with a smile.

“It might be the chan starting to play tricks on my mind, but I can see you. Naked. In my bed.” He laughed wickedly, downing the last of the tea with a wince.

♛♕♛

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Emeil
Posts: 12
Joined: Tue Jan 29, 2019 5:25 pm
Topics: 1
Race: Human
: Putting the 'sex' in 'sex, drugs and rock'n'roll'
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Writer: Tommy
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Fri Mar 01, 2019 2:31 pm

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39 achtus 2718
evening
A scathing glare was shot back at the bitter drunkard, Emeil's typically sunny disposition taking on thunderheads. He held his gaze for a moment, but turned back to Elias quickly. There was bigger game in the hunt, and why distract himself with a rabbit when the buck sat so quietly in the glade? Full lips parted into a wide grin as Elias eliminated every kingdom except his own, knowing full well the man could place his lilting accent and flowing way of speaking, but he'd play along. After all, he was already in.

"I am Mugrobi, and I don't think that the adopted language of the wick is beneath anyone," Emeil challenged, a playful glare in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly, watching Elias' reaction, then took the chan and took a sip. The bitterness bit his throat, but he kept a straight face. He was much more a fan of wines, particularly the sweeter, but he had an image to maintain.

"For example, the chan you're drinking is sweetened with a plant grown along the Turga banks and processed into a powder. Almost exclusively by wick farmers," he said, the lie rolling easily from his tongue. He was sure the sweetener was a plant extract of some sort, but its origin could have been anyone's guess. "Close to sugar, but considerably cheaper to produce. Does that make the chan less desirable? No."

Emeil shot another glance at Tom, then to the approaching Gioran. Flames rushed into his eyes, a frown creeping quickly into his mask. Competition was never appreciated, and in this instance, this crucial moment, any distraction could prove to be the right one. He squeezed Elias' hand again, trying to draw his attention. And suddenly, an opportunity presented itself. The older jent stood and followed the Gioran to the bar, and Emeil found himself quickly standing and draping himself across Elias' shoulders, falling softly into his lap.

"What's your magic? Seeing the future?" Emeil purred in his ear, breath hot on the lobe. Seal the deal. Seal it. "Because I'm just a human, but I was thinking the same thing," he finished, leaning back and staring into the galdor's eyes.

"You could... make an excuse to your friend. He's quite obviously found himself something pretty to look at, and we could make our way quietly back to your place..." It was a soft suggestion, a whisper in the wind, and Emeil never broke eye contact. He'd done this a hundred times before, always the same suggestion, always the same situation. He would be bored if it weren't for the thundering in his chest, pounding against his innards.

"Or we could bring them with us," he suggested, a sour look subtly clouding his features. Always offer an alternative, but less sweetly. His face stayed frozen that way for just a moment before casting a quick glance back at the bar, at the Gioran and the disheveled gentleman. He was hoping Elias would make the right choice, but he had let it be a choice.

He could work around whatever.

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Xavier Zhirune
Posts: 90
Joined: Tue Jan 29, 2019 4:00 pm
Topics: 10
Race: Wick
Location: On Tour
: Not all that glitters be ging. Some 'f it's me.
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Writer: Muse
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Mon Mar 04, 2019 3:10 pm

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39th of Achtus
The Toy Lantern
evening
Xavier didn't entirely expect any response from the trio of seated gentlemen and their very strange exchange of ... things, but they enjoyed the game of at least playing interference. Fingers tracing just so over furniture and looks exchanged, their violet eyes wandered the faces of strangers while pretending their motion toward the bar was at all meant to be an invitation. It didn't really matter, though a few tips certainly wouldn't have been a bad thing. The pale musician never said no to more ging.

Noting the look of well-contained vehemence from the handsome, curly haired young thing, the albino wick blew them a kiss before they offered the dark-haired galdor a wan, taunting smile,

"Ne, ye look like ye got yer hands full with that one thhere, kov. I ent sure ye can handle two 'f us." Winking with their challenge, they slipped away like the moon behind the clouds and made their way to settle comfortably against the bar, oud slung over their shoulder and nestled against their spine. Lacquered nails traced over divots and scratches in the old wooden top before raising their other hand to catch the attention of the 'keep. The strange, scattered field of the other galdor announced their approach, a very weird sensation that Xav had never experienced before and once they chose to ignore while grinning mischievously at the man at the other side of the counter,

"Boemo. Gioran whiskey, mujo ma. Two—?" A sidelong glance toward Tom was an invitation, of course, though even the willowy creature could tell the body before them had perhaps already had more than enough to drink. It was as much an admission that they had a moment to linger as it was an agreement to the offer of free booze, "—oes. I ent goin' nowhere now that yer here."

Slipping delicately onto a stool, pouring themselves into a sitting position and resting their lithe fingers on their lap, Xavier gave the older, ginger galdor their full attention with their rather nervous, unexpectedly emotion-filled question. Colorless eyelashes fluttered as if they were considering their answer, meeting the man's gaze while carefully crossing one leg over the other,

"Beautiful? Yer sweet for a jent, ent ye? It's about th' moons. An' a hunter who tried t' catch them. Th' human caught Osa, but Benea eluded him. After Osa escaped craftily, th' hunter became lost in snow an' darkness. Imaan, th' Eternal Child, came not t' rescue him, but t' comfort him 'n his death, holding his hand while he died."

Violet eyes flicked away from the older man's face toward the barkeep, flashing a smile and reaching for the drink, lithe fingers lifting the glass tumbler to their painted lips,

"Th' original tune be a bit dif'rent, but I ent one t' follow tradition all that well." The albino wick took a swig of their drink while offering their free hand in greeting, holding their bejeweled fingers up and dangling as if they expected it to be taken and kissed like they were some royal lady in waiting from tales still told but long lost, "Junta, by th' by. I'm Xavier. What's yer name?"

⟡ ☾° ⟡
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Tom Cooke
Posts: 1485
Joined: Fri Dec 21, 2018 3:15 pm
Topics: 87
Race: Raen
Location: Vienda
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Writer: Graf
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Mon Mar 04, 2019 7:44 pm

the toy lantern
IN THE EVENING OF THE 39TH OF ACHTUS, 2718


He hadn’t planned on buying himself another drink along with the Gioran’s, but he wasn’t going to say “no” once the ’keep had set it on the counter. Wasn’t as if he wanted it to go to waste. Not that that Tom reckoned it would, with the pale wick around – it gave him pause, made him feel torn. The hazy, smoke-wreathed Lantern was made hazier by the mist that’d settled over his head; it was a good, pleasant mist. A little more, he thought, wouldn’t hurt. Would it?

Nevertheless, he turned aside from it for a moment, studying the moon-singer’s face. He watched those pale eyelashes flutter in the midst of all that kohl.

Then the bard spoke again, and Tom listened intently. As the story unfolded, his eyes widened a fraction; when they were finished, a look of recognition broke out on his face. “Ah, hell,” he sighed. “So I have heard that story before. I knew a man in Old Rose, a Gioran passive priest – only there for a little while, then off on one of the trade vessels, off somewhere else. It was when I was a lad. He’d tell that story. I always liked it. It makes sense. There’s no greater treasure in the world than the assurance that you won’t die alone.

“I like it better in your macha voice, though.”


It was better over here, he thought. He’d caught the Mugrobi boy’s spiteful look as he’d gotten up to leave. At the bar, with the oud player, away from that galdor fop, he felt more at ease. When they introduced themself, stretching out that hand, he felt oddly enchanted. He didn’t know how he felt; he couldn’t parse the feeling.

Well, he thought, if that ain’t something. He lifted an eyebrow at the lithe, pale hand with its glistening rings, but then smiled wryly, inclining his head. He took the bard’s hand in one of his own – very gently – and bent to brush his lips briefly over their rings.

“Junta, Xavier,” he said, raising his head. “It’s T—” A pause; a nerve jumped in his cheek and a sad look came into his eyes, but he smiled thinly to cover up his disappointment. “Anatole. Sorry – I get my tongue tied easily of late. The whisky isn’t helping.” As if to add, Not that it matters, he swept his glass off the counter as if to take a drink.

Then he stopped. Clock it. What are you doing, Tom? Who do you think you are now? Think about how you look. He swallowed thickly, swirling the Gioran whiskey around in the glass, then set the tumbler back down on the counter. “I’ll be wise tonight, for once,” he murmured, “though you’re welcome to it.” Then he sat back in his seat, regarding the pale wick thoughtfully.

I thought Giorans couldn’t be wicks, but what do I know? I thought dead people couldn’t come back to life and possess living people, either.

“Have you been in Vienda long? I think I’d remember you, if I’d seen you before. What brought you to the land of smog and bureaucrats?”
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Elias Mercucianno
Posts: 51
Joined: Wed Jan 30, 2019 6:21 am
Topics: 8
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Raksha
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Wed Mar 06, 2019 12:08 am

Image
39th Achtus
Toy Lantern
Evening
M​​ugrobi.

The smile on Elias’ lips turned into a curl of the lip, a scrunch of the nose, unable to hide his distaste for the country. It wasn’t the people, truly they were just fine. Nor was it the country itself, in fact some of the best coffee came out of Mugroba.

It was just the memories, so painfully ingrained in his mind, stirring like the sludge at the bottom of a chan cup.

Listening to the younger man speak, allowing him to take the tea without a challenge, the Bastian rubbed his face and searched for his cigarettes, pulling them from his pocket and sticking one in between his lips. Picking up the candle on the table, he lit the spliff and inhaled deeply, eyebrows raising in surprise as the attractive human suddenly shifted to sit in his lap. The hint of a smile returned to his intoxicated features, one hand coming to rest on the lower back of the Mug as the other held his cigarette. Breathing out the smoke, Elias chuckled and contained a shiver as warm breath tickled his ear.

“He is most certainly not my friend. I don’t associates with bigger erseholes than myself.” He rumbled, looking into the dark eyes that held his own with an almost fierce intensity. The youngster was attractive, and warm, and so lovely.

Yes, home was good.

“Mmm…I don’t want the old one. The Gioran is being a bitch, so no. Just us. Though, you’ll need to give me a moment my delicious pet. The uh…lavatory calls.” Elias said with a waggle of his brows, shifting the man with a lingering hand on his hips and guiding him to sit in the galdor’s chair.

“Keep this warm for me, I’ll be right back.” Taking another drag on the cigarette, he stuck it between the Mug’s lips before straightening on unsteady feet. Looking around the room, he spied the doorway that led to the exterior of the building, where the tavern had a rather primitive toilet set up. It was a room, with a door, and a seat that had a hole to a waterway below. Making his unsteady way there, Elias’ kicked the door shut and unfastened his pants.

The black waters around him rocked, and the voices called out. Dark hands pulled him from dark water, unknowing about his broken leg.

“Fuck.” The Bastian said with a sharp inhale, shaking his head as memories flashed through his mind. A voice seemed to echo in his ears, and he turned his head sharply. The chan, so sweet and bitter at once, had begun to settle in with its hallucinogenic effects. Finishing the job at hand, Elias fastened his pants and stumbled from the room, holding onto the wall for support.

A face, in the darkness. A warm smile, and warm green eyes. A laugh.

The galdor staggered towards the face, reaching for something that wasn’t there, breath hitching with despair as he was left in the darkened backarea with nothing. No one. Just himself and his ghosts.

“Hurte, can’t do this.” He muttered to no one, leaving the exterior to enter the main room again, pretty Mugs and wispy Giorans and rude Galdors forgotten in his haze. Groping in his pocket for his ticket, Elias threw it at the attendant.

“Get me a bottle of Gold Hart too.” He slurred at the wick, who disappeared to fetch his jacket and his coat with a distasteful look. It didn’t take long to return, holding a hand out expectantly for the coin. Shrugging on his layers, the Bastian fished out what might have been a few pennies too many and dropped them in the palm, snatching the bottles and popping one immediately. As he stumbled into the freezing night air, slugging down a large drink, the shadows held faces, twisted and blackened by flames and heat.

“Home, home, home.” He whined, keeping his head down and eyes on the ground to avoid seeing their accusing faces.

You didn’t save us. You left us. You killed us.

The galdor stumbled into the city, abandoning the Toy Lantern and becoming lost in the night. Eventually, he made his way to Crosstown Court, sinking onto a benchseat with a sob. Alone, cold, drunk and lost in hallucinations, Eli curled up and drank his way into slumber.

♛♕♛
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