She should have been studying, but as her mind tended to do as it pleased at times, she let it wander where it would. Her mind seemed to focus on the last few months and the changes that had occurred in her life. She smiled, though it hadn't all been easy and wonderful she knew she was in a much better place now. The studying was paying off, she was now able to summon the Light to heal, and most of the time she was able to imbue her weapon with the Light as well. She was now a mother, her adopted daughter taking up nearly all of her time whether she was studying or not. Little Merilyn, the single most important thing in her life was napping lazily with her head on Jocelyn's lap. Jo idly combed her fingers through her daughters wild and very blonde curls. She had met the girl while feeding the needy in Westfall, a task that her teacher had joined her on. Merilyn had a cut on her hand, and Jo had healed it. A bond had formed, at least for Jo anyway. She took her to the orphanage, but over the following weeks, she couldn't keep her distance. She found every reason she could to show up and help out, if only for a chance to see the girl. Once free of the shadows that had plagued her, she moved ahead with the adoption. Though in a relationship at the time, she was now a single mother. She didn't care, she had her daughter and that was all that mattered to her. A few more idle thoughts crossed her mind before she once again looked to the tome she was supposed to be studying. She had to study harder, Samariasi would expect her to be better then she was.
(( Sorry for the long absence in posts, hope you enjoy this. ))
Does anyone else just get super happy when they see your partners response to the thread?? Like you just fell so giddy and excited because their writing is just amazing and you’re just so happy because your muse gets to interact with theirs and you just freak out because holy shit this is so cool and this thread is just amazing
Because I do, like almost 99% of the time I’m roleplaying with someone
I dunt want tu be tu drumatik, but I cant stay here ane longer. I dunt undirstan whi you tuuk my face. I only wantud to protekt Val. I wish things had wurked out diffruntly. I wish I hadnt mad you so mad. I wont be cuming back, and hope you are smart enugh to leav me alon. I furgiv wut you did to me, but that will only last until we next meet. Dont send anyon after me, dont try and contact me…it is best this way. I helpud to sav yur life, and this is how I wus paid for it. You took mine. Gud luck desmund, know you will lose them all if this cuntinu.
Jocelyn
( This was something that occurred a week prior to now, I’ve only just now been able to put everything the character feels into words. Hopefully. )
“Everythin’ ‘ere just gets ‘eavier an’ ‘eavier to carry. Tha’ wha’ made you leave? Wha’ made you drop ‘em all on me? A fear tha’ one o’ these days yer’ shoulda’s might’ve given out on ‘em? Afraid tha’ they’d see you show even the slightest bit o’ weakness?”
As the inquiries were softly uttered in the complete darkness that swathed around him with layers of apprehension, with trepidation, with melancholy and with the faintest tinge of auspicious wishes, the gunslinger exhaled an arduous sigh and read over the written text of Jocelyn’s first ever attempt at writing a letter for a third time. Despite what all she had suffered through, by his hand and the hands of others, she was still endeavoring great efforts towards growth and towards becoming something more than she already was. One day, perhaps, even something that -she- would be proud of her daughter for.
In truth though, he was already proud of her. He was already ardent to discover what journey Jocelyn would embark upon from here and how much more she would develop.
The parchment crackled lightly as the gunslinger folded it back over at the already formed creases with meticulous motions. The letter was tucked away within the overcoat’s pocket nearest his left breast, the same pocket where he held only one other item.
The crystal from Valucia.
Nothing felt more appropriate and proper than to have memories of both of her his daughters always held close, always held safe.
With one arm lifted upwards, a pair of gloved digits pinched along the wide brim of his hat to shroud his face despite the absence of light at this late hour into the evening. No one needed to see the warm, translucent streaks that trickled down his cheeks and then were soaked within his scruffed jawline.
“So it ‘as started rainin’..” He tenderly spoke as his head tilted backwards and those slate grey, deluged eyes forfeited another few droplets to escape down his facial features and he stared up at the cloudless, star-filled cosmos above. A smile implored to faintly manifest across his lips and the corners of his mouth vaguely curled upwards.
Jo spent a good deal of time wandering the temple, unseen by anyone. She took her time, imprinting what she called home for the last few months in her mind so as not to forget it. Unlike so many other things in her life, she didn’t want to forget this place. It had taught her so much, had been the cause of so much pain. At each section of the temple, she thought of those in the collective that had imprinted themselves with the location, had attached to it and her mind in such an extraordinary way. Some of those memories made her laugh and smile, others she shuddered in fear at the remembered pain. Having done the same at the house Val and her had called home, she was nearing the end of her journey. She slowed down, not wanting it to end as quickly as it had. She longed for a reason to stay, something to convince herself was worth the continued pain. Strolling without her mask on, all she needed to convince herself to go was to touch her fingers to the scarred flesh of her face. Touch her fingers to the brand that had been placed on her. Each time she did her resolve hardened, her step would become more assertive.
“This isn’t what was meant for me, this isn’t what I was supposed to become. I am a wraith of my former self, I have become that which sickens me. All innocence lost, no reason to smile….would anyone wish to continue like this?”
Jo had left little notes in the rooms or on the cots of those she wished to communicate with. Though having taken only the first tentative steps toward learning to read and write, she hoped everyone would be able to read them. She knew they were full of errors and misspellings…thankfully she wouldn’t have to face anyone after they read them. She didn’t want to face the judgement that would involve on top of what they would feel from her deserting the collective. She refused to call it a family, knew it would never be that way as long as pain and fear ruled the roost. Studiously avoiding any mirrors she passed by, turning her head so she wouldn’t see what she looked like now, she didn’t want to face that either. She had enough nightmares as it was, and certainly didn’t need anymore. The last stop, Desmond’s quarters. The note was curt and to the point, brutality displayed in a child’s handwriting. She resisted the urge to tear everything down, to destroy what little he owned. Instead she sat down and looked at what the gunslinger chose to decorate his house with. After registering everything, she found it didn’t explain what happened to her. It didn’t offer any insight into why she was now without a face. She left the last note on a table where it would be seen and made her way out of his house…and out of the temple. Staring back at the temple, she spoke softly so as not to disturb whatever haunted that miserable hell hole.
“Goodbye, whatever you are. You have destroyed me, and left me for dead. I shall not miss you, for the dead feel no pain. Yes…my heart still beats and I breath just as I have always done. But that doesn’t mean a damn thing when the will to go on is gone. I hope it was worth it….”
In a black wooden box, set upon a patch of black silk are these two finely made weapons. With it is a note written in neat script:
Jo,
We don’t know each other as well as I’d like, but we’ve fought side by side more than once and that means a whole lot in and of itself. I’d trust you ta watch my back, and want you to know that I’ll watch yours. Family is family, after all. No matter what.
Jo surveyed the area, sure that no one was around. Stepping into the quarters she shared with Val, she found a wrapped gift with her name on it. Initially she wanted to just leave it, but upon seeing who it was from she read the note and reconsidered.
"They truly are a lovely group of people, perhaps you have been a bit hasty Jo."
(( I have kind of hit a block on Jo, so this is my leave her alone until I can work up some inspiration post. ))
Jo hadn’t been this down and uncertain at any point in her life. She made her way toward the edge of the forest, her walking stick in hand as she tapped the forest floor in front of her to find any obstacles in her way.
“I have been called a traitor, and though only a few sought my company before all this, none seek it now. I am truly alone, with the exception of a few whispers from whatever has taken hold of my mind.”
She continued through the forest, contemplating what she had learned and what she could now do. As she did so, an overwhelming desire to escape came over her. She knew it was folly, knew there might very well be a price to pay. She didn’t care…
“What else can they take from me that they haven’t already?”
Jo neared the cliffs that bordered the strange land the collective called home. Unable to see the beautiful view, she cried. Knowing she was more alone then she had ever been she didn’t hold back. The tears pooled up in what little space their was behind that thick black wax. Muffled screams barely made it out from behind the punishment so carelessly affixed to her face and forgotten about. She couldn’t take it any longer, wouldn’t take it any more. Filthy fingernails rose to her face, as she scratched and clawed at the wax, thick chunks of wax falling down to the cliffs edge. Pain shot through her, barely healed skin tore from her face as she forced herself to continue. It wasn’t long before she felt the sun’s warmth on her face, the pain ignored as she basked it it’s warmth. She felt drops of blood land on her bosom, and eventually work their way down her cleavage. The mask removed now, she slowly opened her eyes and let them adjust to the light of day. Her fingers feeling along her scarred and bleeding face. Tears fell once again as her sensitive fingers trailed along the scarred flesh. Every contour recognized for what it was, a badge of dishonor and ugliness she could never escape.
“You can only blame yourself Jocelyn and you know it. I forgive you Desmond, for you were only the instrument used by Kharma to exact punishment for the acts of violence and my choices. Sleep well, for you have opened my eyes.”
She eventually calmed herself, the scenery beautiful enough to her that she couldn’t help it. She spread her arms out to her side’s, and jumped. Everything slowed down, time itself appeared to stop as she flew towards the water. She closed her eyes and exerted herself over the entity that was screaming in her mind to do something. Forgiveness offered, she now had the strength to impose her will. Wings, dark black and yet transparent, unfurled and slowed her fall even more. She now directed her path, able to glide along on the thermals the entity directed her towards.
“I know not where to go, but my future lies out there somewhere.”
What would Jo normally be doing right now for Winter's Veil?
Jo hasn't many overly fond memories of the holiday actually. She would be putting on a bright and cheery expression to hide that though. (( Thanks for the ask! ))
You are a strong, driven, and beautiful woman, inside and out. No amount of persecution or torturous abuse could ever take that away from you. It is who you are and who you will always be.
Have a Happy Winter’s Veil,
Desmond Slade
Jo, not exactly expecting a wrapped box in the middle of the stairs to her abode, fell flat on her face and cussed up a storm. A silent cussing, to whomever put that box there. She laid there for a bit, thinking to herself.
“Doesn’t the son of a bitch who put that there realize I am blind? Or maybe they did, and thought ‘Gosh, that would be funny.’ I suppose I should pick it up and move it.”
Jo did just that, picking up the box and tossing it in the corner until such time as she calmed down enough to open it.
“I have to distract myself, if only to keep things in perspective. The voices just won’t quit now, won’t give me a moment to think clearly now that I allowed that entity a home.”
Jo picked up her walking stick and made her way into the forest, taking in each sound and identifying what it was and where it originated. She was finding this was becoming easier the more she did it, each foray into the forest more simple then the last. When she reached her practice area, she took a moment to force all thought from her mind, and allow the sounds to echo and paint a picture of what her surroundings were. The staff she held whipped out and struck a nearby sapling, breaking it easily. She smiled, and began to practice in earnest. The staff whizzing and whistling through the air. Time and time again, she was successful in her attacks. It no longer hurt her hands when the staff struck a tree she couldn’t knock down, she now used the momentum of it bouncing off to fuel her next attack. The whispers were still there, encouraging her and prodding her to continue. She was so intent in her practice that she nearly ignored the approach of the jungle cat. It’s soft footfalls hidden in the forest. She waited though, waited for it to pounce. And when it did she wrapped that staff in shadow, and struck with all her might. She missed, but leapt forward and used the momentum of that failed attack to roll on the ground and fuel her next attack. It worked, the tiger, so confident and sure, couldn’t stop itself in mid air and was struck by the staff. It landed wrong, and rolled away to try and attack again, but Jo was ready for that and used her newfound power to summon forth the shadows and void that had become her only companions. The cat, now trapped in tendrils that constricted its body like a python had no defense against the staff now. Jo repeatedly struck it until the sound of life had disappeared from the forest. Jo kneeled down as she released the spell, the tendrils disappearing, and laid her hand on the bloodied skull of the cat. “Thank you, for you have given me that which I have been in dire need of, I regret that you had to die in order to do so. Confidence, a wary and elusive quarry….and in your death I have found it.”
By Order of Desmond Slade, the following individuals wanted have been located and their respective bounties are hereby null.
On November 15th, The Royal Courier reported Jocelyn (Herit in game) and Valucia (in game) were wanted Alive for crimes of Desertion, Thievery, and Murder.
Anyone who continues to pursue after either individual after this has been published will be met with a response of the fullest extent by her family and the collective. The wanted posters that have been spread around the city will be collected and torn down in the coming days.
(Thank you to all who expressed interest. If you have any questions, please contact @val-rius @jocelynherit or @desmondslade (Dizmond in game) for more information.)
Relief, the release of all that worried and stressed the poor woman, washed over her like a tidal wave. Jo leaned back and relaxed, let that blissful relief from worry take hold and for the first time in weeks truly felt content. She no longer had to resist, no longer had to be strong. The being or ghost or spirit, whatever it was had committed itself to taking care of her. It gave her advice when she needed it, gave her directions so she wouldn't lose her way, protected her from harm when she needed it. There was a cost of course, but Jo no longer cared. It was worth it, she was no longer alone.
The entity had presented itself to her, when she had been at her weakest. Jo hadn't stood a chance. Morphing itself to whatever desires were prevalent in the woman's addled mind. It wrapped its loving arms around her, held her in a tight embrace. An embrace Jo was sure she would never receive from anyone ever again. Her mind torn and burned as much as her face likely was, she finally submitted and returned that embrace with everything she was. Images flashed and coursed though her inner vision. She could see it now, the benevolent entity that only wished to help her, wished to protect her. When it spoke, the voice again morphed and changed to whatever appeased her at the moment.
"Do you see now my love? Do you see how they have all abandoned you? Desmond cannot face what he did to you, he is too weak to even present himself to you and explain why he harmed you, explain why he took everything from you. And Valucia, off playing with the elements and toying about with that Shaman. You'd think she would have at least stopped by, if only to ease your pain. The rest? Need you inquire, really....do I have to explain it to you again? I am all that you have Jocelyn, and all that you will ever have. But, unlike the others, I long to be with you Jocelyn....I love you more then they ever could."
Jo had been happy to surrender, happy to give up and accept those loving arms and caresses that she so longed for. It was just that easy really, all it took was love. Love, after its absence, can be a powerful thing. Jo eagerly drank it up as the entity whispered its plan into her willing ears.
“They are trying to trick you Jocelyn, how many times will you fall for it before you finally realize we are all that can protect you.”
Jo sat outside the infirmary, waiting patiently for her “meal”. Having finally gotten used to the tube sticking out of her belly that she used to take in nutrition, she need only wait for Marlis to dispense the paste that she took in to sustain her. Her stomach rumbled once more, and she found her mood was not improving because of it. Her thoughts lingered on what Felicity had told her, that she was going to receive a new face.
“They are trying to trick me, but I won’t fall for it. Not this time, my hopes have been dashed too many times for me to so easily give them the chance to crush them yet again. They have another thing coming if they think to so easily trick me again.”
Jo felt along her hands, lightly rubbing them together. She could easily feel the new calluses, the product of training with the staff she now carried. She was relentless in her training, knowing she needed a way to defend herself. Although far from proficient, she managed to kill some form of varmint the other day. Sitting perfectly still she could hear it’s approach, felt she could almost see with her ears. Like a flash that staff shot out and she heard the whimper of its death gasp, a soft squeak before it fell silent.
“One day, one day soon I will become what you need me to master, one day they will regret taking what was me and destroying it.
By Order of Desmond Slade, the following individuals are wanted Alive for crimes of Desertion, Thievery, and Murder.
Jocelyn (Herit in game)
Valucia (in game)
If seen approach with caution. To redeem the two for reward, bring to the individual to The Blacklight in Jade Forest.
(To get involved with this story line, please contact @val-rius @jocelynherit or @desmondslade (Dizmond in game) for more information. Please contact either Jocelyn or Valucia OOCly before engaging if you intend to make an attempt to capture them. Artwork provided by @deathknight and @ashes-black )
‘I don’t like my mind right now. Or who I’ve become.’
‘Be it what she would have done or not. She was a cruel, callous woman.’
‘Be what they need, not what they want. But what does that truly mean?’
‘And at what price will it truly cost?’
The gunslinger sat perched atop the highest spire of Zul’Kaz, legs dangling beneath his form and swaying from the edge of the precipice. He was becoming increasingly aware of what brought the Mother to such a perilous roost of solitude where the man could be alone with his contemplation even if only for a few brief moments. Images from that night replayed in his thoughts as an endless loop of regret, of guilt, and of necessity. Words spoken from that night recapitulated within his mind.
And it always reached a singular moment, the pinnacle of his penitence; her gargled screams of utter agony bubbling to the surface from that cauldron of molten wax.
Both of them had broken one of the collective’s cardinal rules.
Both of them had wronged him and predilection couldn’t be shown.
These were the two conclusions that he continued to seize tightly onto as to offer some form of explanation, some sense of principle for the condign punishment he had carried out without prejudice.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘But it had to be done. You will serve as my example and bear the mark of a deserter. Forever.’
(( Warning : Numerous triggers for some folks out there. ))
Jocelyn was standing on the knife edge between being alert and once again fading away. The pain was intense, more then she had ever felt in her life. As her face swelled, the dark black wax pulled at the burns on her skin and only made it worse. She dared not open her eyes, for fear of what she would see. Clenching her fists repeatedly, thoughts whip-cracking through her mind, she couldn’t focus on any one idea or thought. Emotions, shifting and moving and changing. Some thoughts came and went so fast, she couldn’t grasp them. Others, lingered only long enough for her to realize them before her ravaged mind moved on to the next one. She could hear someone breathing in the room, but knew it wasn’t Valucia. It sounded deeper and heavier then her, she couldn’t place it. This disturbed her, almost as much as the incredible pain that wouldn’t give her even a moments respite. The scene replayed itself so many times, though she tried to force it from her mind. That thick black wax, bubbling in the cauldron. Knowing what was coming and actually dealing with the fact that it did are two very different things.
As tough as she thought she was, she hadn’t been prepared for it at all. Desmond’s betrayal of her wouldn’t be forgiven anytime soon. Yes, she had left and if she had her way no one would have known it until they returned. Valucia had to be taken from there, had to have time to process not only what had been done to her, but what she had done since her time began with the collective. All her plans were failed now, and she saw no way to correct them. She cried, the salt in her tears only adding to the already overwhelming pain as they wet the blistering and swollen flesh of her face. She wanted to scream, but feared what new hellish threshold of pain that would cause. So she simmered, feeling like a dutch oven had been placed over her face. The wax, frozen in place only seemed to contain the heat that had built up as blood constantly flushed to her skin in vain attempts to provide healing to horribly scarred flesh. Worse then the pain, and worse then the betrayal was the worry and concern for Valucia. She was strong, there was no denying that, but was Valucia strong enough to leave Jo in the hellish misery that had become her existence? She hoped so, she didn’t want her love to suffer what had happened to her. As Jo focused herself, as she brutally directed her thoughts, the pain seemed to subside a bit.....or was she dreaming again? She didn’t care, she needed the break and accepted it with aplomb.
“You need only survive this Jocelyn, revenge will be yours in the end. Besides, we will take care of you. We will make sure you live Jocelyn. In fact, we give you no choice in the matter. But we aren’t completely heartless, you will be stronger for it, as we teach you what you must know to ascend. Do not give up Jocelyn, we wait in the shadows for you, always.”
Jocelyn knew the source of the respite now, knew the shadows and what lingered behind them had done for her what her body could not. They, or it, or whatever....eased her mind enough to let her rest again.
“I will survive, and in time I will seek my revenge. It may take years, or perhaps tomorrow. Eventually the opportunity will present itself. I only hope you are prepared.”
Jocelyn spoke to all those present at her punishment, though no sound came from her cracked and swollen lips. More to herself then anyone else did she speak, needing the motivation to get through trials ahead of her.
I'm a rebel, screw anon. What's something you've always wanted to try writing (style, certain plot, whatever) but haven't?
I want to write a darker themed plot but I find it hard to not make it move into the light hearted RP that I enjoy. I have tried a couple of different times but I either stall out or flip it happy.
At some point you decide it is time for change. At some point the fear you feel drives you to a decision. Jo had reached that point, and heedless of the consequences she dove in head first. The deal was made, signed in blood and irrevocable. She gained power, strength to overcome her fears and the will to carry on. But at what price you ask? I doubt Jocelyn even knows, or cares at this point. Myself, the narrator of this poor humans existence, think she will come to regret the decision she made. What the hell do I know though? I’m just a narrator, only paying gig I could find. The details of the deal? Well, you will have to find out for yourself. Much more fun that way. All I can tell you is that her once pale skin is now covered in what looks like black runic tattoos and her temper is worse then ever. Good luck, and do be careful.
Jocelyn Herit @jocelynherit-blog - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
