#pallideinanis

[gerudospiriit]

"Sometimes your people use the image snakes to drives folks away... Sometimes you use snake imagery to welcome... What does the serpent mean to you, specifically, sage?"

" That's quite a question, stranger. Most wouldn't pick up on such a detail. " A slight tilt of her head, gold eyes fixed on the inquirer. " Serpents are sacred to my people, as they are favored by the Goddess of the Sand, V'riqi. They are a symbol of power and elegance, strength and danger. Like the desert themselves, they are often overlooked in these facets for grander creatures...but they should not be taken likely or ignored. "

[thevulpinewhaler]

R19: How would other characters react if your character died?

I don't think most people of the isles would even notice he's gone. I can see Nona or Jonas being upset as he's their friend, and both have lost so much already. Billie might visit his grave, but I'm not sure how the other whalers would react. Knowing just how annoying Fox can be and how he was known for being kind of a mixed bag of morals it's hard to say.

[apcryphl]

@pallideinanis

Does he have any corrupted charms, or has he ever had any experience with any? 

None of the charms he has are corrupted, but he’s seen/handled ones that his Brothers have claimed to be more sinister than the usual runes or charms. So far none of the corrupted ones have “called” to him like the night vision charm did.

[thevulpinewhaler]

"Please, just leave me behind. They only want me."

"I won't leave you, Jonas. They can fight me if they want you so badly."

He still had his poison soaked knife and his wits. He wasn't going to let anyone take his friend away. After all, without Jonas and Nona, he had no one, and that was unacceptable.

"Just run when I tell you, and don't look back."

[apcryphl]

@pallideinanis​ || Late Night Wanderings || Accepting!

“A bold move to show your face here in the shadows of night.”

The dangerous act of smuggling someone out of the Abbey's holding cells took either blackmail, forged paperwork, or a bit of magic. The latter, a well-timed blackout, and the use of a couple narrow alleyways had Marcus watching as the shaky young man he'd been escorting ran off to a friend. A good scare seemed to be enough to set many first-time offenders straight. But if it didn't stick, if they were lured from the path again… they wouldn't get the Overseer's direct intervention a second time.

Maybe it was the night vision bonecharm he carried, maybe it was the oddness of the light itself, but something caught Marcus’s eyes: a ghostly lavender-blue glow from a broken basement window. Traversing water-rotted floors and a rickety staircase, the Overseer shouldered open the basement door and fell still at what he saw.

Scrap and driftwood bound with thick wire into a makeshift table, draped with purple cloth and illuminated by whale oil lanterns. And in the middle of it all rested a hissing rune, identical to the one in the High Overseer's meeting chambers. Booted feet suddenly felt like they were made of lead as he crept closer, trying to make a decision. Did he destroy the shrine and take the rune back to the Abbey? Or tell someone else of what he'd found on patrol and let them deal with it? He couldn't leave it here for some heretic to find.

He was within a few feet of it now, brow furrowed as he reached out and hesitated for the longest time. The only thing keeping him from taking it was the sudden words, startling him and his already anxiety-ridden conscience into falling flat on his back. He pushed himself up again, scrambling for his saber when the black eyes above him clicked.

"Wasn't surprising me how you got impaled the first time you showed up?" He growled. "That's a hazardous game to play."

Only Marcus wasn’t in the Abbey now, and even he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not... at least in regards to having conversations with the very entity the order despised.

[apcryphl]

"How does one determine who is innocent and who is deserving of righteous punishment?"

"Searching their belongings, interviewing neighbors and coworkers. Figure out if they have enemies they're inclined to do something about, or if this isn't the first time they've been tempted by heretical thoughts. Those are the… common guidelines,  at least."

"The Overseers usually only require one or two of those to bring someone in for questioning. Sad to say the smallest coincidence could be considered damning evidence, and they wouldn't bother looking any further. Common sense is warped inside the Abbey, so I can't quote that as being reliable. 

"As for me… cross referencing more facts than they bother to or, if I can't find anything else, a gut feeling."

Trusting a gut feeling that someone was innocent or meant no ill will had to be better than letting them be tortured to death.

[themarkedlibrarian]

The library is due to close soon; the afternoon's sun has already nestled into the city's busy horizon. Its warming, golden rays being obstructed by the blanket of thick smog in the air up above and effectively shielded by the maze of structures and buildings just within the near distance. The bell above the library's door is struck, ringing out gently as a single customer enters the storefront. Striking hazels wander around the room, scanning over the many shelves stacked with books. Several slabs of soft wood have begun to bow underneath the impressive weight of each collection of hardcovers. The customer hugs a book to his chest using a single arm while his free hand idly rakes through windswept strands of black hair. "Is there anybody here?" Spoken rather quietly, his voice fails to carry beyond the walls of bookshelves. The floorboards beneath him offer a groan of protest with the step forward the customer takes. "Hello? I've come to return another book..."

Ceres hears the bell and comes rushing from behind a bookshelf, having been putting away books from the cart.

"Hello, what do we have here?" he asks as he approaches the young man.

"My name is Ceres, and I'm happy to help you return your book. When did you check it out and under what name?"

He heads towards the front desk to pull out his log book.

The older man opens it to the most recently used page and takes out a pen to fill in the return.

"You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" he asks as he gets a better look at the younger man.

Something seems off with him, just slightly, in a way Ceres can't put his finger on. His eyes are a color he hasn't seen before and quite frankly remind him of the forests back home in Morley.

"I swear I've met you before outside of the library."

[themarkedlibrarian]

i’m a great many things but i’m not a fucking liar

Ceres eyed the Outsider coolly and let his words hang in the air.

He never accused him of being a liar, just silver tongued. Much like the stories of fae folk from his homeland.

"No you're not a liar, you're just not good at communication."

He shrugged.

"Though I suppose I'm not the best either," he admitted readily.