🍄 RETOS. ¿Quieres un poco de emoción? ¿Adrenalina? ¡Esta es tu oportunidad! Compartiendo esta publicación estarás dándole libertad a tus compañeros y al gossip de que te envíen retos que podrías llevar a cabo en tus interacciones actuales. Por supuesto, no tienes la obligación de aceptarlos todos, ¡escoje los que más te gusten!
𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚: Para un mundo equitativo, envía al resto de participantes del juego. ¡Dar para recibir! Se pide un uso adecuado de la dinámica y que se respeten a usuaries y personajes. Evita temáticas incómodas para que todes se diviertan. ¡Que disfruten!
¡Silencio! Silencio. Dicen que el manto de la oscuridad ha caído sobre Svalbarö un poco más temprano de lo usual. Apagó todas las luces, silenció las casas, selló boca tras boca. Cuando nadie creyó que un alma perturbaría la penumbra, pasos, voces y gritos inundaron los túneles subterráneos que desembocaban en el lugar perfecto para disfrutar de la ocasión. Algunos le llaman Club Mitz. Otros, como yo, preferimos la versión poética: El Calabozo de Hades. Pero entonces los gritos se vuelven risas, los pasos se repiten entre el ritmo consciente de un baile y ya no quedan dudas, las criaturas viven de la noche... ¡Sí! ¡La noche de brujas! Nuestra noche.
¿Pero tú? ¿La estás pasando bien? Te veo pálido... ¿Será el frío? Ay, cariño, no me digas que te has encontrado con los verdaderos monstruos que se ocultan por debajo de las máscaras.
Déjame decirte que tienes suerte; mi nombre Renata Soto, o Renata a secas porque apostaría lo que sea a que soy la única bruja que hay en Svalbarö con dicho nombre. Yo te puedo acompañar. Por ahora puedo decirte que escribo para el periódico pero no entremos en detalles, por favor, sigamos hablando de ti. ¿Tienes algo para contarme? ¿Algún encuentro inesperado? ¿Ya elegiste a tu disfraz favorito? ¿Le entregaste una bebida con olor a lavanda a tu enemigo? ¿O de rosas a tu amor nunca cumplido?
¡Descuida, ángel! Hoy seré tu confidente así que mis oídos están a toda tu disposición...
ooc.
El texto anterior no es más que una introducción para entrar en ambiente. Renata, como ya explicó, escribe para la sección de sociales del periódico así que pueden hacer llegar todas sus dudas, chismes, comentarios, entre otros, referentes a la fiesta y sus invitados. Como siempre, recuerden ser respetuosos con sus mensajes y traerle muchas anécdotas. ♡
¡Espera un momento, por favor! Primero que todo: No diría que en toda la fiesta existe una sola persona mejor disfrazada, sino un conjunto de muy buenos disfraces para todo tipo de gustos. Desmenuzándolos me atrevería a mencionar varias categorías. ¡Por ejemplo! ¿Más creativos? Nadie le gana al tablero de Twister andante de Abel, o al encantador Cheshire Cat bajo el que se desenvuelve nuestra señorita Pip. ¿Los más terroríficos? Los Chuckys de Mars, Garfield y Yunsik, porque si ya uno es digno de un buen espanto ni hablemos de la pesadilla que significa ver tres en una sola noche. ¿Los más hermosos? Por supuesto que mi muñequita Lumine como María Antonieta y mi hada favorita: la hermosa de Alessia. Como puedes ver, todo un abanico de opciones. Pero esa es mi perspectiva: ¿Cuál crees tú que hayan sido los favoritos del público?
RENATA, WHILE A RECLUSE, does experience certain fixations as others do. such as a sweet treat. the dragon always found herself stopping by to examin the fresh baked goods. it always amazed her deep down, how the bakers always managed to come up with brand new delicious treats. and while they may not express it outright, they were certainly delighted to support their business. " excuse me -- " the dragon questions, of course, only when she's beckoned to. she may be a grump, but she's certainly civilized. with a certain flourish, exposing her traditional grace that comes with her age -- she gestures to what appears to be lemon tart. " is that... lavender? " renata asks, her face contorting in curiousity. certainly not in judgement. she runs her finger through her hair as she adjusts on her feet, her abnormally large purse draped over her shoulder. full of her notebooks and various other trinkets she's collected -- it appears to be almost boarderline overflowing. " it looks delicious... inventive. "
WHILE RENATA MAY HAVE had a history of running from their problems -- it wasn't, as she believed, without some kind of logic. the life she created had always unfurled when they found themselves getting too hopeful. while she had found herself adjusting happily to her isolation ( happiness was subjective, of course ), there had been a time when she wanted more. to love, to truly live, to experience her days at the side of someone she adored. there had been a time where perhaps, it would have been lucien. while renata had never been skilled at expressing the way she truly felt -- she knew in her bones that she was happy. something in her had shattered when they had seen those paintings, became harder than stone. frankly, she never blamed lucien for her demenor. life had taught them to be like this. however, one thing she was sure of -- she never wanted to see them again.
what she could blame lucien for, however, was their avoidence. she had heard they had taken residence in this town five years before she had -- perhaps her stubbornness took away her motivation for escape. somehow, overtime, they entered her thoughts less and less. if they were going about their lives -- shouldn't she? a drink at the spell and burbon was a rare but consistant part of her routine. a martini in hand, she found herself sinking into her seat with every sip. it had been a busy day at work, with everyone expecting something from them. however, with a specific sighting out of the corner of her eye -- all the tension renata had worked so hard to release came flooding back.
lucien. and they were staring straight at her. somehow, her delusions thought they could just see right through her.
" well -- " renata begins, once she realizes this was not the case. this moment had taken hundreds of years to occur, but she thought it never would. wishful thinking. the paintings were burned in her mind. " i always thought this would happen eventually. "
"what is your deal?" the words burst past her lips before she can stop them, unintentionally sharp. renata had seen many strange things in her eight years as a witch, but this man was unique. if she didn't know any better she would imagine he were undead, or perhaps a ghost, but he held both too much vitality and clarity in his demeanor to align with her previous experiences with the revivified and phantasmal. her eyes narrow with skepticism and her nostrils flare with a hint of disgust. "there's somethin' weird about you."
@therelentless liked this for a randomized starter!
renata's shoulders are tense, tight and held back. the other woman's reputation precedes her, many proclaiming her to be both open and generous, yet still she feels fear. ( miss robichaux's has its own much more controversial public image in the city of new orleans and her work there is well known. who knows how an unaffiliated witch might feel about the institution or those who teach there? ) it keeps a pit in her stomach, additionally weighed down with the fear that even she will not have the magic required to help her.
she moves through the swamp, approaching the clearing and the manned table outside the large home lush with greenery, her breath growing more baited and anxious the closer she grows. "excuse me," she brings herself to say when she gets near enough to be heard. "is now a good time?"
riot me parece de lo mas precioso que hay en la isla
¡A mí también! ¡Hasta me uno al club de fanáticos de Riot! ¿Ya la has visto en medio de una pelea? Yo todavía no me animo pero juro que la idea me hace ojitos todas las noches. Lo que es mejor, siento que el día en que de un paseo por allá encontraré más de un rostro conocido haciéndole porras para que tenga todas las victorias en el ring. En fin, mi amor Riot, si alguna vez lees esto: Aquí estamos dos personas ansiosas de tener tu autógrafo y número de teléfono.
