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Thread Contributor: Arjay Lo'RanLate night interludes
Dungeons and Dragons-Forgotten Realms

231 Posts
18 Threads
Age:231
Job: Bard
Ship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Mike

All Accounts Posts: 764
Points: 3,718.87€
#1
Time in the Hub, Arjay knew, didn’t feel like it passed consistently for anyone, depending on where they were from, where they went, and what they did. There were, of course, night and day, particularly here in the center where things were stable. However, the length of the days didn’t always match up to what one would expect from their world. Coming in from a borough, where day might never come (in some strange situations) or where time might pass at the rate of the world it reflected instead of the pace of the Center, one might jarringly find it suddenly day or suddenly night. The businesses, therefore, all had to find their own way of dealing with this situation where travelers might show up at any hour needing food, needing supplies, where the passing of the day might even be at odds with their own biology. At the moon, it was less of an issue, since the inn by necessity was always open, but Arjay did, at all times, keep several clearly marked indicators in the tavern, all magically set to show how long it was until the kitchen and the tavern would be closing, and all people would be turned out. Some nights he was lax about the rules, letting the last few travelers stay and marinate their tales with a few more pints of ale, sitting and passing the hours with them in that companionable way adventurers always managed with each other. Some nights, though, the hours until he could turn out the last drunks and degenerates passed far too slowly for his preference.

Tonight was one of those nights. A melancholy had settled around the elf, one that didn’t lift with the noise of the raucous tavern, one that he could only really appreciate once the tavern was empty, the cook turned in, and the elf had the room all to himself. He’d smiled, patted an over-concerned barmaid on the hand fondly as she hesitated and fussed over him before leaving, and settled himself at a table with a bottle of wine. The room was pleasantly dark, lit only by a few candles here and there, one of them on the thick wooden table the elf sat at. The darkness seemed to somehow bleed into the silence of the room, making the echoes deeper, the sputtering of the flames carry farther, the slightest disturbances louder. He could break the silence any way he wished, of course. He had his lute, he had his magic, he had any number of devices at his disposal, but he didn’t wish to. The atmosphere fit his mood: Deep, dark, empty, yet safe, comfortable. No one brooded quite like Arjay, because at this stage in his life, he didn’t find it particularly depressing. He simply felt, and could appreciate the feeling for what it was, what it meant, without making it some implication on his life. It was a mood fit for drinking, although not for getting very drunk, and so that was what he did as he sat there in that empty tavern. He cut a small piece from the block of cheese he’d brought out from the kitchen (the privelages of owning the place), poured a glass of the dark wine into his glass, then sat back, feet up on the table, taking his time with both.

The inn wasn’t closed, of course, the door was still open to admit those who needed a bed, or those who had one and were returning late (or leaving early). There wasn’t even anything to discourage people from coming in, but most people knew it would be a few hours before the kitchen opened again.

@moon
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

105 Posts
7 Threads
Age:87
Job: "Travel Writer" (Smuggler)
Ship Status: N/A (looking?)
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Moon

All Accounts Posts: 648
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#2
It was impossible to shake the bleary eyes out of the intrepid traveller's expression. As she stumbled slightly, she mused to herself. It had been a long time since she had last needed to find a bed.

For that matter it had been a long time and yet no time at all since she had simply needed a bed. The perks of not possessing a soul.

Queth had stumbled out of her garage not an hour ago, her car in the middle of being reassembled, and by extension, not somewhere she could crash and get fourty winks. It had taken more time than she'd like to admit to to come up with a place she could sleep. Even more embarrassingly, she was friends with the owner and still couldn't come up with it quickly.

It was at least good of grim reality to be nighttime. Queth didn't know that she'd handle bright light all that well at the moment. It was too bad that it was so late- but Queth's stomach would forgive her if she waited until tomorrow to feed it.

She opened the door quietly so as not to disturb anyone else sleeping, before looking around for someone to speak to. She managed a smile around her yawn when she saw the other elf at his table. Padding along quietly she waved a greeting before she was close enough to keep the quiet and still converse.

"Arjay." She started with a smile. "It's good to see you- I don't think I have since we both drew cards."

@mike
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Dungeons and Dragons-Forgotten Realms

231 Posts
18 Threads
Age:231
Job: Bard
Ship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Mike

All Accounts Posts: 764
Points: 3,718.87€
#3
As the door opened, Arjay cocked an eyebrow, peering across the dim tavern. With a flick of his wrists, he sent slowly spinning orbs of red light up to the ceiling where they orbited, casting further illumination down to the room. Smiling slightly in recognition, he dismissed the spell with a flick of his hand, then sent a chair near him gliding out from the table for her in invitation. The elf was, in general, fairly lively and hands on. Only in one of his strange melancholies was he so apt to use magic so liberally to prevent the need to move any more than was necessary.

“An interesting day, that,” he admitted. The iuon stone he’d gotten that day no longer orbited his body, since he’d finally taken the time to have it implanted in his skin. The process had been painful, of course, and he wouldn’t have risked it with his previously weakened constitution. Still, it hadn’t been anything he couldn’t heal magically once the process was done, and he had certainly found situations where not needing to breathe was quite useful that would have been impossible with it spinning about his head. Still, the greatest gift he’d gained that day, even more so than the new friend it had drawn him from the planes, was the fact that his body was once more whole.

Also, he realized as he studied Queth, he wasn’t the only one who could be described as whole now. He peered at her a bit more curiously in the candlelight, smiling slightly. “And it would appear that we both gained something we were missing that day,” he added. He made another lazy gesture, drawing a second cup from the other side of the bar and setting it to rest in front of Quethadia. “I suppose that this is the gods’ way of telling me that I’m not to be drinking alone tonight.” He reached over, tipping the bottle of dark, strong Drow wine into her glass.

@moon
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

105 Posts
7 Threads
Age:87
Job: "Travel Writer" (Smuggler)
Ship Status: N/A (looking?)
Sexual Orientation: Yes.
Moon

All Accounts Posts: 648
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#4
Queth had a number of options for how to use her magic nowadays- though she was not even remotely as used to it as Arjay was. Still, after the lights had her blinking to accommodate the change in vision, she smiled at him and abused her magic. A bit of crank to keep her awake a little longer. Catch to pull her chair in under her. Magic hands to take the glass from him and lift it to her physical hands. "Thank you." She offered politely, taking a sip of the drink before deciding it was good.

"Yes, interesting is a good word to describe it, though it may be a bit of an understatement." She replied softly, rolling up her sleeve to show him where her cybernetics ended. "This is it now. The only body part I have replaced with metal." She added, trusting that her explanation would suffice to explain the difference in her.

Without asking permission- the impudent individual she was- Queth reached with her magic and sliced herself a piece of cheese to quench her hunger for a time. "Does mean that I have to actually sleep now." She continued with a grumble, setting her glass down and laying her head on her arms. "How is one supposed to handle the constant exhaustion? I require sleep every night now. Which. What?" Queth mumbled, hands waving slightly in the air to punctuate her words.

Sighing and taking another drink she tipped her head at him. "Did I interrupt your musing?"

@mike
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Dungeons and Dragons-Forgotten Realms

231 Posts
18 Threads
Age:231
Job: Bard
Ship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Mike

All Accounts Posts: 764
Points: 3,718.87€
#5
The girl was using magic… that one was new. Arjay smiled slightly as he watched her, observing the effects. He could tell there were similarities between the magics of their worlds, although she didn’t appear to have pushed her exhaustion back anywhere near like his spells could have. Granted, hers seemed to cost her quite a bit less energy, so he supposed he couldn’t expect it to have. He smiled at her as she accepted the wine, moved aside slightly so that she could get at the cheese, and had to marvel at the changes in her body. Quethadia had been practically nothing but machine the last time he saw her… now? He leaned forward, reaching out, running his fingertips lightly along that joining where flesh met synthetic. “I know,” he said, his lips twitching up in something that couldn’t exactly be called a smile, “I could feel you when you sat down. Although… I need be curious if you can feel me in turn.” His fingers traced lightly down her skin, crossing over to the mechanical part of her arm, where he drummed his fingertips lightly. “And is this loss by choice?” he asked, indicating the inorganic part as he sat back in his seat again, hand returning to his wine glass. “Its replacement could be arranged, after all, if you wished it.”

As for her other troubles… Well, he couldn’t exactly give any personal experience there. “Elves of my world don’t sleep, so I’m afraid that I can’t answer that,” he admitted. “We enter reverie… partially a wakeful trance, organizing our thoughts, processing our experiences, and partially a communion, sinking a bit closer to Arvandor, closer to all the rest of our people, that we might not feel quite so… alone.” He gave one short little laugh at that, drinking back his wine and pouring another glass. “Obviously, it works better some times than others. No… I’m quite capable of musing with company, my dear, you aren’t even slightly interrupting.”

@moon
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

105 Posts
7 Threads
Age:87
Job: "Travel Writer" (Smuggler)
Ship Status: N/A (looking?)
Sexual Orientation: Yes.
Moon

All Accounts Posts: 648
Points: 1,682.54€
#6
Queth's spells could do plenty to wake her up- however unlike the magic of Arjay's world, hers had some nasty side effects. Which is to say that abuse of it would quickly become an addiction. She knew mages who could not sleep unless they were put under- and she had no desire to be one of them.

Also unlike Arjay however, she had theoretically unlimited magic. She didn't have to count how many spells she had used that day. Hell, if she needed to, she could take an average spell and turn it overwhelmingly deadly if she pushed it hard enough. Likewise, all of her spells were scaled- the more she put in, the more she got out.

Yeah Queth was okay with having the potential side effects in exchange for how much easier it was to be a mage in her world.

She smiled at his touch, twisting her arm so he could see all the sides. His question made her laugh, much louder than she intended, though another spell cut the sound from travelling outside of their area.

"Of course I can." She replied automatically, smiling as she did. "Even if I couldn't, Arjay you're a damn Christmas tree in astral-" She paused before chuckling again and rubbing the back of her neck. "Which is the opposite of toaster. You have so many magical items that you glow." She explained, nibbling at her stolen piece of cheese.

"Not by choice, but not something I'd undo either. I think I'd be uncomfortable if I was entirely flesh- this arm tells the story of a different lifetime and I don't want to give that up. Also because it's fun to turn my arm into a cannon." She replied automatically, tracing her fingers across every mark, divot, and engraving that made this chunk of metal specifically hers.

She nodded at his explanation, before smiling at his acceptance. "I'm glad. I don't think we've spoken in the entire time I've had my soul back fully."

@mike
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Dungeons and Dragons-Forgotten Realms

231 Posts
18 Threads
Age:231
Job: Bard
Ship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Mike

All Accounts Posts: 764
Points: 3,718.87€
#7
Arjay chuckled quietly, not really knowing what a Christmas tree was, but getting the general idea of what she was saying. “Now now… I don’t need things to… light up my presence and draw all of the pretty moths in,” he teased halfheartedly. It was true, too, if he chose to make it happen, and for just a moment he did. He was a Chosen, after all, and his spiritual, magical presence could be intense, imposingly alluring, even captivating, but he only drew on this nature for a second. He wasn’t trying to intimidate or seduce her (yet), he was just playfully proving a point. If that proof was impressive… well, he’d been compared to a peacock in the past, he supposed. What peacock didn’t like to make sure everyone knew how impressive he was?

Something about that thought seemed to sink a hook into the general melancholy of his mood, probably who it was that used to call him a peacock.

He supposed he could understand having a level of utility she wasn’t willing to let go of anymore. He gave the arm an appraising nod, then shrugged, sipping his wine again. “Well, just an arm is certainly an improvement. I shudder to think of what it must have been like regrowing as much as you did…” It did sting a bit, he had to admit. He’d been willing to use his powers to heal the damage to her body and/or her spirit, but his offer had been rejected quite… explicitly. By her getting up and running from the room, if he recalled correctly. “My own wish was fairly… unpleasant when it took hold. Obviously I knew it couldn’t be fatal, it would defeat the point of the wish, but…” He shuddered, peering into the seemingly-black surface of his wine, remembering that sensation of his heart being grabbed, crushed, torn and reformed in his chest while it still beat. Wishes really were the worst.

@moon
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Shadowrun-Tabletop edition

105 Posts
7 Threads
Age:87
Job: "Travel Writer" (Smuggler)
Ship Status: N/A (looking?)
Sexual Orientation: Yes.
Moon

All Accounts Posts: 648
Points: 1,682.54€
#8
Arjay was as impressive as Queth remembered him- perhaps even more, now that she could comprehend the intricacies of his magic. Lucky for her that she had memory storage, it took her only a moment to dig through such to prove to herself that- no- something had in fact changed. He was, somehow, more than he had been previously.

She had been hearing rumours of his Goddess in the area, so it was possible that contact with the source of his power was strengthening his abilities.

In reply, she crossed her arms with a smirk, leaning forward as mist filled his senses, her scent turning addicting, each flaw of hers diminished and layered under spells designed to ensnare. For a final touch, she reached forward and trailed her fingers along his skin, confident that the hint of euphoria that would crawl along his nerves would paint her picture well. Cutting her spells equally as quickly as Arjay had, she winked easily. "Yes but that goes without saying for many spell casters." She purred, thinking idly of many times where such spells had done the job and then some.

She didn't miss the way he soured slightly after- and it seemed a clear conclusion to her that he was upset she had turned down his offer. Smiling crookedly, she brought up the wrist that bore her commlink, producing a hologram of her brother, sister, and parents. "I didn't wish for me. I didn't care if I had a soul or not- I didn't care if I was metal or not- I wished for a way to prevent my family's deaths. Despite it having happened so many years ago." She moved from the old photo, to one that was more recent. Her siblings and their significant others- her parents doting over their sole grandchild- Queth chasing down the family dog who was running away with her shoe. More life was in that static photo than Queth had felt in so many years of her first life.

"It was strange to say the least. Rather than regrow everything at once- seeing as preventing my family's deaths also prevented me from being in the incident that took my body from me- as we grew closer to our goal, I started to sort of- waver. Sometimes, I would go for my gun, only to find that the cavity I had been able to open moments before was now flesh. It was more emotionally taxing than anything. I was in a state where at any moment I may or may not have a soul, and you saw how much of a shell I was with the damage I had taken to it." She shivered idly, remembering the panic inducing fluctuations in her emotions- one moment, able to handle anything, the next, so unused to fear that the site of a fork pointed at her would find her hyperventilating.

With a small shrug, she lifted the bottom of her shirt to showcase her scars. "The majority of these, I got in a car accident when I was 60. The second time I was 60. I do not know how I remember both lives. But I can look at these scars, and tell you that they were not there last time we met. I can look at you, and remember you, remember who I was when I came to the hub."

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