Echoes of Another World

A place where I post pictures of larp makeup and write about my colorful collection of characters!

[echoesofanotherworld]

Larp: The Most Serious Business

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[Doomsday: meek] Lose a Planet

it feels the ground shake, again. it sees a fellow sanctum resident roll their eyes, annoyed at being tossed to the ground. it wonders how many people just died. it is a bizarre thing, to watch a world die. it occurs to it that the masters of cymbeline would covet its vantage point. it never feared death. it still does not. it seems to it that it would be a convenient emotion to experience, but the impulse for self-preservation was deemed unnecessary for a slave. what it feels more is a fear of letting down sanctum. it has known these people for over a year. it knows that is very little time, to people. but it is the only time it has ever known- the only time it has been able to act, to choose, to be more than a tool for the use of whichever hand deems it most useful. it does not fear death. but it hopes it survives. it would like a chance to help more.

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Xenia, Doomsday Larp

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[Alliance: Lila] Thoughts on a Friend

The smell of seawater has my fur on end before I even see the mists coalesce, depositing the quiet vansir- nah, not vansir. vakkar, I think. Either way. The mists dump Abbath near right in front of me and Stephano. I lower my weapon, and tell the quiet screaming voice in the back of my head that no, just 'cause I smell the dumb water doesn't mean I'm anywhere near it. The bird is greeting her, exchanging friendly small talk. I share a friendly smile as I pull myself together. Abbath is a good. She moves so different from me, in a fight. I'm always going side to side, trying to find a weak spot and cut in where I can. She does straight lines. Someone learned would probably say there's meaning hidden in that. I just think it's cause she hits like a bat-dropped boulder. No one as strong as that should be as calm as she is. All the blustery big folk I'm used to, they prattle as much as they fight. Not her. She almost seems to smooth out the area around her, unfrazzle the adventurers who talk to her. Calm in a storm. Adventurers would be better off, if there was more like her.

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Asherah Nereus, Alliance: Stormbreak

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[Bright Story: Capella] Dance

The little one laughs, spinning and wiggling in time with the noise coming from the people on the platform. Some of them pluck at strings, others hit things with sticks. One blows into a strange implement. The sounds are all so different- but they do seem to go together. I look from the child to the others in my team- they look as baffled as I do. She seems happy, though, so clearly it is no threat. "Fiora. What is this?" She giggles, comes over to me, grabs my hand. I leave my weapons with the others, tentatively following her. "They're making music! It's a traveling troupe, Capella! Dance with me!" She continues with her odd movements. "Dance?" "Yeah! Move as the music does! She takes my other hand, guides me to move as she does. The rhythm to it feels so familiar.... "Oh!" The realization makes me smile, excited. "It's like battle, but without the striking!" Fiora looks at me, confused, before thinking for a moment and smiling. "Sure! Battle! Just do like a fight, but without your weapons!" We dance into the night, laughter and starlight meeting in a swirl of music and life. Humans come up with the most wonderful things.

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[Doomsday: meek] Music

it always thought sounds were unpleasant. back on cymbeline, sounds meant pain. He never wanted to hear anything at all, so if it made any sounds, He would make sure it hurt. when master thirteen had yelled into the darkness, "if you're there, put a bell on or something so I can hear you!" it had followed her order. she did not need to know that the bell jingled as frequently as it did because every ring caused it to flinch, to expect a hurt that it was still startled to never see come. it was a bigger change, then, coming to sanctum. the simple machines keeping the building warm nearly caused it to double over, when it was first led in by master thirteen's side. the last time it heard sounds so loud, everything had been on fire. it soon learned that that was not an unfair assessment of sanctum. and that there were people who made even heating machines sound quiet in comparison. it was therefore a surprise, then, one night, when it heard a soft sound, across the cantina. 

it looked up. the elysian erik was sitting on a table, leaning over a strange stringed thing. the sounds that came from it were gentle. it couldn't look away. his fingers moved across it, making the sounds move, change. but they were all soft. it stood, walked across the room, keeping its gaze fixed on the object. it still wasn't sure how to look at people, but the object was nice. "Hey, meek. What's up?" it glances upwards, making fleeting eye contact with the elysian. "....what is that?" it points, taking effort to keep its finger from shaking. "It's my guitar." a smile is on his face as he strums at it again, as if in punctuation. "what is it doing?" she tilts her head to the side, listening to the soft sounds. "Doing? Oh, this?" he strums the strings again. "I'm making music, meek!" "is it alright for it to listen?" it tries to keep its voice from shaking as it speaks. it mostly succeeds. "Sure!" it sits next to him, listening. perhaps not all sounds are unpleasant.

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The Starkiller Xenia, Doomsday LARP

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[Alliance: Asherah] Save What You Can

I watch them, getting led across the dirt clearing. They move with purpose, every step meticulous. Probably trained to keep perfect posture. I pull at my scarf, shoddily wrapped around my head in an attempt to keep my horns concealed. Storm'ren are never welcome at these kinds of affairs. Stealing a glance at the people around me, I can understand why- just the thought of their intentions has my blood boiling. I think of the time my brother tried coming with me to one of these. He broke down and then broke the noses of five slavers in one brawl. He still brags about the encounter- but I know we didn't save anyone that day. I look at the small gathering of people in front of us. Three wylderkin, an arienis, and a human. I turn my coin pouch over in my hand, gingerly. I have enough for *maybe* two, if they sell poorly. 

The human leading them waves his hand out, indicating the lineup. "Please, friends! I would not be so bold as to sell merchandise without letting you take a look! We will begin the auction in ten minutes' time. Feel free to look over the products until then." I can feel my ears ringing, and slowly remind myself that I cannot extend a hand to help if it is balled into a fist. So instead I examine the "merchandise." First are two ferret-kin. When the seller is not looking, they steal glances at each other. They whisper reassuring words. I feel a dull ache in my chest. Next is the shortest of them, a bear-kin who looks to scarcely have left childhood behind. There is no hint of youthfulness in the young kin's eyes. They don't look at anyone. A human to my right grabs at the kin, feeling their arms. "Pretty muscular, for his size. This is why I always go with beasts, you get so much more use out of them for so much longer." I become dimly aware of pain blossoming from my lip. I gently raise my hand to it, and realize I've bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. I delicately dab it away with my scarf. The auction hasn't even begun yet. Hold it together. The arienis is watching the small crowd, eyes alert. They keep the same prim posture as the others, and yet I can see something defiant in their stance. It's palpable enough that the buyers seem to be giving them a bit of a berth. This one doesn't need my help yet, but I can still do what I can. I walk up to them, bored, looking to be examining them more closely. "Cobbler's Cat Tavern. Ask for Noventa. Tell her Asherah sent you." The words are barely more than a breath, and the nod of the arienis is just as subtle, but when I step away, I can feel the fire in their gaze. I know they'll be able to make good. The human, I can't even get to meet my gaze. Their hair is long, gray. Despite their best efforts to match the posture of the others, their stance is a crooked one. They've been through much. Before I can take any more time, the slaver speaks up. "Friends, friends! It is time for the auction to begin. I hope you've all found the merchandise to your satisfaction. Now, let us start with this one-" he makes one of the ferret kin step forward, and time slows to a crawl. This is always the part I hate worst- having to choose which battle to fight. The human I know will likely not fetch a good price- their age and broken body ensures that. But who else, in addition to that? The arienis looks ready to make an exit on their own terms. I have to trust that they can care for themselves. I end up being able to afford one of the ferret-kin in addition to the human. I try to ignore the howling cries of despair as the pair is split. I take their hand, gently. Lead them away. Try not to think of the faces of the slaves who remained in bondage. I take off my scarf, begin to explain what steps the two before me can take to build new lives. I narrowly avoid the claws of the ferret-kin. "YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HER. WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HER." The question sinks into my bones. I make a mental note to find a new moneylender, before the next auction. I could have saved more. I need to save more.

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Asherah Nereus, my Alliance Stormbreak character

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[Alliance: Asherah] Maelstroms

They are running, down the darkened alleyway. The rain is hammering down, but they can still hear the clanking of armor of the imperial soldiers behind them. Merali grabs Asherah's wrist, pulls the storm'ren suddenly into another side alley and through an open window. The room, mostly empty and dark, is an abandoned safehouse. They sit in the darkness, pressed against the wall, breath held in anticipation. Metal meets metal meets cobblestone in a cacophonous riot as the soldiers charge down the road. 

Slowly, the sounds fade away, so the two young storm'ren are left with only the low rumbling of distant thunder and rain drumming down onto the roof. Asherah is giggling, before she can stop herself, relief crashing over her like a great wave as she pulls off her hood, looking at the young woman to her left. "I can't believe we're not-" before Asherah can finish the sentence, Merali's lips have met hers. The rest of the sentence dies in her throat as she responds in kind. When they part, after an eternity has passed, Merali's grin is wide, her breath heavy. "You were incredible!" "I only shattered the lock. And I could only do that because I had a scroll. We don't even know if those slaves are going to escape, the soldiers came so fast-" "Asherah. Live in now. We're alive, we're free, and we gave those kin the best chance they're going to get at freedom. If they can't do the rest, that's not our fault." "I just hope-" "Marry me." Asherah blinks, and suddenly the rainfall is a series of drums, preposterously loud against the cobble. The world tilts, for a second, as the words surround her. "....wh-what?" "I love you. We work great together. We could have a family." "Merali, you- we've been doing important work, why would we stop?" "We have our whole lives, Asherah, what does it matter if we take a break to enjoy each other?" Asherah looks at the storm'ren in front of her. Her expression is hopeful, loving- but so young. There is less then a decade's difference in their age, but suddenly, it feels as if an entire age has fallen between them. "I can't." She can't look at her face. "If we took a year off- five, ten- think about how many people would live, die, be hurt in that time. This is important, Mer." "I thought- I thought I was important." Before Asherah can stop her, the storm'ren has risen and bolted back out into the storm. Sighing, Asherah rests her head against the wall, fighting back something choking, threatening to overwhelm her. Someday, she would understand. When the slaves were all free, maybe.

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[Doomsday: meek] Eat Peanut Butter and Fluff

it looks at the odd thing in front of it. it recognizes bread as one of the components, but can not identify the brown or the white between the slices. it wonders for a moment if it is safe. no, its friends would not leave out snacks that were dangerous. well, some people would. but it tries not to eat food its doomcaller friends leave out. it sniffs at the sandwich. it reminds it of some of the crackers that are sometimes left in the snack bin, and also... something sweet? carefully, slowly, it takes a bite. the things between the bread are gooey! it blinks in surprise, chewing delicately. it is sweet, but sticks to its fangs- is this some kind of trick sandwich? a trap meant to keep it from talking? it idly wonders if such a sandwich was created to handle elysians. it seems likely. it takes another bite, paying closer attention to the flavor this time than the unsettling texture. the flavor reminds it of dessert, reminds it of smiles and friendly words and everyone sitting around the cantina being well fed and loud. it finishes the sandwich, every bite. sanctum never stops surprising it with more good things.

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UV makeup test done for my Doomsday PC, with/without UV lighting

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[Alliance:Kailani] Be a Husk

The first sound is screaming. First the screams are rage. Then there is fear. They have swords, and magic, and not a single thing that can stop the massive wave of creatures with eyes that glow and hearts that burn with only rage. They trip over their own fear. 

I am running, now. Need to destroy them all. Need to tear them apart, need to crush them and kill each and every one of them. Chaos flows from my hands, the dark energy mangling their flesh, making them fall. Claws rip into their sides even as the chaos tears them apart. Need to make them all dead. Somewhere, that urge is in the back of my head, even as the overpowering rage keeps all conscious thought from breaking through. They will all die. I pause my barrage of chaos to look down on a human. It is making pitiful sounds, blood seeping from a gash just above its eye. Not dying fast enough. I reach down. SNAP. Dead. On to the next one. And the next. Steel bites into my side. I fall, and as I do so the human who cut me down is leapt upon by more of us and torn to shreds. I hit the ground, and my body is already reforming, repairing itself. Within a minute, I am up, up and running and hurling more chaos still into yet another pathetic human. Others like me swarm. The light of our eyes reflects on the faces of the battle-worn adventurers, shows the expressions contorted into pure terror. So many bodies. I wander, looking for more to hurt, to kill, to rip to pieces- And then I am me. I am me and my hands are full of aura and what did I just do. My legs give out, and it occurs to me that I am shaking, that I cannot move and I cannot breathe. Chaos. That was chaos in my hands. I’m dimly aware of Rex collapsing nearby. I stare down, at the ground, at the earth. What… the thought doesn’t fully articulate itself, this time. I hear screams. There are bodies. People looking for people. Someone calls out my name, someplace close by and yet very far away. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. My voice is gone, torn from me as If mine was one of the throats that got torn out. What did I do. “Kailani?” the voice is quiet, gentle. My eyes wander upwards and I take in the sight of Violet and Bupkis. I try to speak again but there is nothing. Their expressions show concern, as if I wasn’t a bloodthirsty chaos wielding monster mere moments ago, as if I deserved worry. My stomach lurches. My eyes sink back downwards. “Are you okay?” I can’t even look up, but my head is shaking. No. Not okay. Not going to be okay ever again. What did I… “SQUIRE KAILANI” a voice booms. I almost don’t recognize it as Huleen’s. It echoes through me. Squire. How can a squire do something so absolutely evil? How could I- “She’s over here,” Violet responds. I dimly register that I am surrounded. I look up briefly, see them all. Ruis and Huleen are here. I can’t read their expressions, in the dark. Someone pulls me to my feet, and as I stand, the aura glow leaves my hand. Nothing left to manifest, despite all the spells remaining in memory. We begin to walk back to that town we first came from, the one with the asshole portal that keeps us trapped here. I follow, my legs moving of their own volition, my head racing with images of what I just did. Everyone is silent. I don’t bother looking at any of them, not even my sisters, keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me, trying to remember how to breathe. I feel empty, as if the rage that had burned through me earlier tore me apart, leaving my insides hollow, leaving me without any emotion. Leaving me like a husk.

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[Alliance:Kailani] Reflections

The searing summer heat did nothing to silence the symphony of the forest- the stream babbled cheerfully, the birds chirped their calls to one another, and the occasional warm breeze brought voice to the trees. In the midst of this cacophony of life, a young dryad sat studying a book. Leaning against a tree near the edge of the stream, her boots were off and her skirt had been hiked up past her knees, so that she could dip her feet in the water. Her brow was furrowed as she studied the hand-written words before her. 

“Storms of silence… If it’s all about dragons, then maybe that has something to do with Wingarior?” Kailani murmured to herself, tapping a pencil on the page in deep thought. Having briefly stolen away from her traveling companions for some privacy, she had been reading and rereading the various phrases in her notes and trying to make sense of them for almost an hour now, as she tried to do every day. The words made barely more sense to her now than they had the day she had first seen them, drenched in blood and shackling her to an evil she could barely understand. I’m trying to help your people and my own. The young dryad jolted upright, a startled look coming to her face. A glow came to her hand as she looked around, wary. A few moments passed, with no sounds aside from those of the forest and the dryad’s heavy breathing, before she finally lowered her hand, ceasing the flow of magic. Turning some pages in her book, Kailani copied down the phrase that had come to her. It was a repeat, she noted, but one that she hadn't heard in a while. She then closed the book and put it in her bag, setting both aside. Kailani leaned back against the tree, eyes closing, looking far more tired than she had moments prior. It had been almost a full day since she had heard that horrid voice in her mind. She had almost let herself hope that it was going to stop. She sighed deeply, and drew her feet out of the water, bringing her knees up to her chest. In her mind, the child of autumn tried to picture a forest much larger and older than the one she was in, with the trees stretching up so high you could scarcely see the birds that sang in them. The images that came to her mind were hazy and unclear, as if seen through a fog. Frustrated, she opened her eyes. She turned her attention to the stream that stretched in front of her, studying every detail of the water. The water was mostly clear, and so she could see every rock that had been worn smooth, every ripple caused by the lay of the riverbed beneath. She looked at the plants growing along the bend of the stream, not unlike those which grew from the young dryad herself. She noted the little brown fish that didn’t seem to move, yet were constantly swimming to keep from being swept downstream. As she stood to rejoin her friends, clumsily putting her shoes back on, Kailani felt a strong sympathy for those fish.

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[Alliance: Kailani] Thoughts on the Code

I don’t think there was any Code in the First Forest. I mean, not one written out, with “thou”s at the start of every phrase, meant to be memorized in a specific order. Not like I’d remember, if there was one. Which raises an interesting question- I wonder if I ever did anything like this before? I doubt it- I know I’m young. It’s hard to say, though. I woke up with so much earth magic… It’s an interesting question that I doubt will end up answered. Just one more part of me that I can’t figure out. But that doesn’t much matter. I’m awake, I’m here, and I’ve got people to take care of.

The very first line of the Code is, “thou shalt respect the weak and constitute thyself the defender of them.” I guess they did that because it’s the most important one. Got to make sure you know it before the rest. It’s a tricky one, to define. Probably because it says “weak.” Where do you draw that line? I know many people who would be decidedly upset with me if they even thought that I would consider them weak. They should choose a different word, if they ever rewrite it. The way I see it, I think, is, everyone is weak. I mean, strength comes from overcoming weakness, right? That sounds like a thing that ought to be true. So, really, what the code is saying is that you should respect everyone, and constitute yourself the defender of everyone. Which sounds right, to me. I don’t know why that word trips me up so much. Weak. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve got some inkling of why. I’m weak. I’m weak and I’m young and I don’t have any idea how I’m going to defend people or be a good squire or really do anything. I’ve been awake for over a year, and in that time, I’ve been stumbling from one disaster to the next, healing who I can, helping however I can, but never really fixing things or defending anyone. Can someone who is weak still defend the weak? I guess that’s a question I get to try and answer.

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[Alliance: Kailani] A Visit from the Rangers

A pair of candles illuminated the desk that the young dryad sat at, writing. Kailani looked over the words, scratched a few out, and continued her urgent, excited scribbling. The Ashbury Times had written to her, offering coin in exchange for details relating to current events in the Forest, and the child of autumn had known right away what she wanted to write about. She had sent a quick response promising an article as soon as she had written one, and now, the very next night, Kailani was working diligently at finding just the words to describe her experience. 

It wasn’t easy, finding words to explain the Wold. It was like explaining that up was up and down was down. They were things that Kailani knew, that she understood, but that she didn’t have words to explain if one did not have a common frame of reference. What the Wold was to her was a familiarity that she had not known for thousands of years, a home that she had thought was completely lost. It was also a whole new riddle to be answered, of dryads and centaurs and all manner of forces which Kailani so looked forward to understanding. Explaining all of that would hardly make for a good news report, though. And besides, finding an honest way to explain what she had seen at the edge of the Wold took no small amount of mental gymnastics. It wasn’t every day that one witnessed the most powerful elves in the forest throwing a temper tantrum at the mere fact of your existence. Kailani had expended most of her energy focusing on not cringing, as the rangers kept their bows trained on her and some more outspoken members of the council called her outsider and claimed that she would corrupt the forest. And that was just what they had said in the common tongue- the elven words had seemed twice as harsh, not that Kailani understood any of them except for “nandin,” the elven word for dryad, which they had almost seemed to be sneering as if it were some kind of an insult. Kailani had thought to herself that the elves were acting in a way reminiscent of the humans of Kosmara, in what she had come to know was called “racism,” but had elected to keep such thoughts private. Indeed, she didn’t speak a single word as the elves had their arguments, trusting Ezri to speak on her behalf instead. Ashamed as she was to be seen as lesser, she knew better than to try getting in the way of such anger when she was the source of it. She looked back at the paper, wondering how most politely to express what the wrath of the council had been like. Knock, knock. The sound jolted Kailani out of her memories, causing an involuntary flinch. She glanced at the darkness outside the window, wondering who would visit at so late an hour. She was staying on her own for the moment, as Ezri had been called to some extensive council meetings after they had returned from the Wold and Erden and Mouse had not yet returned from their trip to Entholm, but she did not feel exceptionally worried, as the town was well defended by the rangers, and she had enough binding to take care of herself for the most part. All the same, Kailani picked up the knife that Kantil had given her in Barran, and as she walked to the door she placed the knife within arm’s reach, just outside of what would be visible to someone at the door. She then grabbed a piece of cloth from the table, using it to carefully turn the metal door handle. A pair of elven men stood before her, their expressions neutral but their posture imposing. Kailani put on a nervous smile, noting that both men were armed with sword and bow. “Hello! Uh, how can I help you?” “Squire Kailani, we understand that you’ve offered to write an article for the Ashbury Times?” the shorter of the two spoke. He was not making eye contact with the dryad, but his voice was loud enough to make Kailani’s eyes sink downwards anyways out of reflex. “Um, yeah, I… May I ask… who is ‘we’?” Kailani silently cursed herself as she fumbled for words. She kept her hand on the door, using it to hide the tremor in her hand and to be ready to slam the door if the men turned dangerous. Kailani felt acutely unsafe as she took stock of the men before her. She wished for a ward, but part of being alone meant that the only real barrier she could put between herself and others was a circle of power. Which basically was only a little less than a test of patience. Elves had lots of patience. “We’re rangers, squire.” Kailani breathed a silent sigh of relief. “We just need to make sure that the situation is clear, here. What was your article to be about?” Kailani smiled slightly in spite of herself. “Well, I was going to write about my recent trip into the Wold,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm as nervousness about her situation and excitement about her subject matter waged war in her mind. The two elves frowned, and looked at each other. The taller one spoke, now. “Squire, the Council advises that you do not make your experience public.” Kailani’s jaw went momentarily slack, as a million thoughts raced through her mind at once. The first thing she was able to say, however, was a question of just one word. “Why?” The shorter ranger spoke up again. “It is not for us to explain. We merely were advised that you planned on writing for the paper and to ensure that your subject matter was one that the council deemed appropriate.” Kailani fought to maintain her composure. She closed her eyes briefly, and nodded. “Did you have any other business here, friends?” “No, squire, we did not.” “I… appreciate your passing along of the message.” Kailani paused, trying to find the appropriate words to sound like the proper squire of Icenia that she was supposed to be. “I wish you both safety in your travels. Namaarie.” Kailani closed the door, slowly. She walked back to where she had previously sat, and stared at the page were her words were written. Her vision blurred momentarily, as if there were tears that wished to be shed. Kailani was unsure if the tears were fear, or rage. The two tended to live closely, in her heart. The dryad picked up the page, lit the corner of it with the candle, and tossed it into the fireplace. She felt the urge to scream, and her head felt ready to explode. In less than a minute, the page was gone. She didn’t understand. She began to pace back and forth. The council didn’t want her journey into the Wold public. She didn’t understand why, but it was a thing. They sent a pair of well-armed rangers to deliver said news at a time in which they knew she would be alone, to deliver said message. Kailani knew enough of the world to know when she was being threatened. The dryad continued to pace, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. She had figured that the issue would be done with, once it became clear that her entry had not been barred. She had assumed that the Council would understand that there was nothing more natural than a child of autumn in the forest. No. She was still an outsider. Kailani turned suddenly and flung a fist at the wall. Frustration met with pain, as the wall remained impassive to her surge of violence. “Thou. shalt. LOVE. the. country. to. which. thou. hast. sworn. fealty.” With each word, her fist again met the wall. By the end of the phrase, her hand was bleeding, with only a slight dent in the wood to show for her effort. She looked at the wall, and then at her own bloody knuckles. Kailani sank to the floor, her back to the wall, tears making their way down her face. For the first time in her life, the Forest did not feel like her home.