#deeperthicket

[righthandknife]

@withourtraces [x]

"I figured. Should we just wait here? I think separating again is the worst thing we could do in this place. Best to move as a unit." She narrowed her eyes as she glanced at the nearest door.

Something was wrong- she could feel it. Daud was a force unto himself, but even he had limits. There's no remedies in this world they could just stockpile and drink as they pleased, so whatever magicks he or Thomas used were finite without proper rest...

"I don't want to linger longer then we have too. Outsider knows what could come after us to force us to move."

[dishonoredknife]

@deeperthicket from here:

Acceptable was the best that anyone could hope for from Ankarian.

It was fine by Daud.

The assassin wordlessly nodded, and rested the bookstand on the rounded corner of the secretarial table as instructed, and watched as the one-armed sorceror summoned Daud's own gift (something he wasn't expecting) from the pages of books into a tidy little folio, notes on a magic dimension of his own world.

Something that Daud could study for insight on his own time.

But while he was here, Daud was on Enki's time.

Enki instructed Daud to call upon his own powers to be observed. The man nodded and stepped back so he could better be seen over the large desk.

He clenched his left fist, Mark of the Outsider glowing on his hand. The first power he called upon was his sight. Eyes blackened, then glowed through pale, mooney disks that encompassed his iris and pupil. He watched the silhouettes of employees through walls, their forms golden, and eyes glowing with the cone of their vision. Ankarian's gaze himself was bright and burning to Daud's perception.

"I can see through walls. I know what the people on the other side of them see. I know the items they hide. I can tell what noise I make, and what draws attention."

[mutedaggression]

What a strange place.

A home built on the edge of a cliff that seemed to spiral into the depths of a darkness that seemed to swallow the buildings that were built into it. He can't help the way his eyes trail the cliff until the view was cut off by a building or some other structure jutting out of the shadows.

There are other people milling about nearby, some traveling along the rails that ran the depth of the spiral - but none of them pay him any mind as he folds his hands in his lap and lets his feet dangle over the edge.

It felt too familiar. It felt a little too alike the shadows that had one clung to a bottomless pit inhabited by cave gnomes and snarling wolves - or the endless shadows of a city of tarnished gold.

He's not paying any mind to passerby until one decided to cast a shadow over him, lingering over him until he has to lift his head.

" -- well, I'll be damned."

@deeperthicket.

[raudrraven]

@deeperthicket !

"So."

The word breaks the otherwise quiet space Enki has surrounded himself with, punctuated with the minute crunch of the trail mix he's eating.

"Were you like this before or after you started studying magic?" He gestures to Enki with a hand mottled necrotic tones of black and green. "Because I knew a buncha people who used to be really strong and then they got too crazy with it and wasted away to nothing."

He shoves another handful of granola and candy into his mouth, breaking up the conversation he was one-sidedly having until this point.

He has the wherewithal not to speak with his mouth full, but that does mean he's talking again as soon as he's done chewing.

"You must be a good dark mage, though, if you've not died from it yet."

[selfembodiment]

@deeperthicket / event sc.

"So, what happened to your arm?"

He asks it boldly, butting into Enki's extremely wide personal space because he can't help himself. It's like something's taken the brief pause out of his thoughts that would keep him from saying things before he could consider what the reaction would be.

"You - smell strange." A bit like rot.

[fontlocked]

[ @deeperthicket ;; <3 for a starter! ]

Sans had noticed that he has a roommate long before he ever saw the other guy. It'd kind of be hard not to, what with the way the entire apartment has slowly been transforming into someone's personal library. They're stacked just about everywhere, even floor to ceiling in a few places. He's been tripping over their stuff ever since they moved into the third floor. His roommate is lucky Sans doesn't actually need to use his bedroom door or actually traverse the place at all, because it's kind of a nightmare.

The first time he actually sees them it's pretty late at night. Sans had ended up lingering out in the shared kitchen far later than he'd originally really meant to, stuck idling by a big pot of dinner slash breakfast slash lunch slash however long he can stretch it out to last him for. Cooking, frankly, is exhausting, so he doesn't even try to do anything hard, just a half-assed stew he can dump into a bunch of bowls and shove into a corner of the fridge for later. Nice and familiar. Though, he can already tell it's going to turn out a little… funky.

There's ambient magic here to consolidate, sure, but it still doesn't feel quite right— or quite as willing to cooperate. Those hotdogs from earlier definitely had a bit of a zing, even if it wasn't all that bad. The short stool he'd left under the sink the first day he actually moved in makes an ugly creaking noise as he kicks it into place beside the stove, stepping up to scrape a board full of messily-chopped carrots in. The magic is congealing a little weird, but nothing explodes, so.

It's probably fine.

There's the telltale rattle of the front doorknob twisting open, loud in the otherwise relative silence of the apartment. It's just enough to make him pause for a moment, cutting board and knife still in hand.

It doesn't take very long for his mystery roommate to come around the corner of the kitchen— the sound of the pot roiling on the burner is loud enough even without Sans puttering around and ripping into plastic packs of mushrooms. The guy looks like a gentle breeze could knock him over, all gaunt and thin. Could be sort of elegant, if you like your humans freeze-dried. Maybe someone pressed him in a book and left him there for a few decades.

"hey, human." Thunk, thunk, thunk. The mushrooms are soft and easily give way underneath the knife. They aren't the sort he's used to using, but it's probably close enough.

Maybe he should've put his coat and mittens back on, come to think of it.

Oh well.

"you're the books guy, huh? knew i was bound to see you eventually."

[blackknightsgambit]

@deeperthicket was Rooted:

His blood was rushing to crash against his ear drums. His thoughts were just the same, swirling and slamming into each other. What was this place? The hallways were interconnected in certain ways that only made just enough sense to not give you a massive headache.

But that's it.

Where this place wasn't as important. Getting out was still the top of the list but that meant going through a version of him more keen on bashing his head in. How was he supposed to reconcile with a creature like that? He'll have to figure something out.

Which he'll get to once he finally get out of the vent where he's escaped into. As safe as it was, the sounds did use the space as tunnels. He could practically hear every scream and shout from several rooms echoing within the chamber and he wasn't going to let a chance of getting out slip from his hands.

A vent opening had finally came into view and with some careful movement and adjustment, he managed to kick the the vent open. Whatever was on the other side would be handled--

Which turned out to just be an old man who's made his own shelter. Or this was going to be some sort of epicenter for some showdown if the red light was any warning.

"I-- come in peace," He finally spoke though maybe that wasn't the best thing to say, "Is that red... light your doing?"

[valcrians]

@deeperthicket // sc.

he's really, really trying not to stare at the guy - if only because he knows what it's like to be stared at for a sickly appearance. (his 'disguise' both served as a means to prevent the sunlight from hindering him as well as a way to keep his more vampiric traits from being so evident.) but when he's caught outside 'his' townhouse's door (dressed in his "disguise" for the day) and nearly face-to-face with the stranger, he finds his eyes immediately locked with the man's - and recognizes what his own must look like behind his thick goggles. "uh... you... " he struggles to find his voice - muffled as it may have been behind his bandana and scarf.

a quill seems to have been dropped, and val hesitates to bend down to pick it up and offer it back to him. "...quill." obviously. he feels like kicking himself because he sounds like such an idiot...!