Post by Terra on Aug 5, 2008 2:50:30 GMT -5
Caedan is dragging along Terra, looping succinct circles around her in effort to herd the elf in the direction she wishes their sojourn to take without breeching physical contact. The other Cabalists are left to their own devices, hopefully a few of them taking up in Terra's wake, maybe in concern, but more probably after hearing the psychic discuss some sort of collection of shinies that needs investigation in the general area she's scuttling towards, keeping to the shadows until she reaches a certain melancholy booth, still bearing the traces of a murder committed years ago. A scarf is pinched from one of the stands as she casually strolls by, and then abruptly disappears down a ladder into a hole which bears a peculiar and moderately nauseating stench. If Terra doesn't follow, it's likely she'll be dragged down in short order. Don't cross a psychic on a mission.
Terra had little other options than to trail after Caedan. The temperamental teenager was not one to cross, and besides, Terra was curious. These were lands she had yet to explore, as was made obvious by her inability to walk by stands and statues without gawking. At the smell, her sensitive nose would curl upwards and a pleading glance was spared for the psychic -- to no avail. With a groan that did nothing to ease the stench, she'd trail downwards.
Tenebrae wasn't far behind, all cape and flutter and deathlike silence, a little grin perched like a curlicue moth wing on her lips and a greedy glint in the ice and laughter of her eyes. Night-time shenanigans had been sorely missed of late, and the vampire was more than a little peckish, missing a certain pirate, enlivened by the tick and swish of blood hammering in the veins of the ones she followed here to this gloomy and ironically null crossing; all her hungers, firing at once. That gaze shone through the pall of chalk and mirth that was her expression, feet taking cat-steps to flit her from this bit of dark to that, making sure to leave visible the seething mass of blackness that cavorted like a knot of ghostly eels about her tiny frame. Bit melodramatic, but it'd give the locals something to whisper about, if they were watched. So it was she followed, smirking at the scene ahead. She really hoped nobody fell down any holes and got eaten by rats.
Kasyr Is playing the tag-along as ever; though fortunately it was in a more physical means than the rife-with-drama-sense that the tiefling was more used to. | It'd be elaborated upon and all, but the typist figured it was mixed company and all...And, right, onwards with the narrative. Bugger, where was I? OH! Er. | It was a pleasant change of events really; for one thing, Terra was present in one piece which was a fairly meaningful sight of itself...and her slightly forceful tour-guide was another of his Wards. Tenebrae's presence was notable enough in itself; though the hybrid had slipped ahead a bit- choosing to remain twixt the two blondes and his leader, rather then dawdle near the back. Really It was good company leading to an odd place; which meant it was practically assured that it would either provide a few smiles, smirks, or due smiting due some as-of-yet-undetermined third party. With any luck; following after the pair would lead to all three~ and so, where else was there to go? And if it somehow didn't? Well, he could make do with a little catch-up then; one supposed it was past due with his disappearing acts.
Shishi was indeed following after Terra. How could he not after promising to see her through some horrid night as she had done for him the night before. Judging purely on his sense of smell alone, he might get such a chance sooner than later. The vampire had put his tired little ones to bed before embarking after the Vampiress and the determined teen. The burn covered male was wincing with almost every step, but what was he to do? He had debts to repay... A dead Goatfish swirls in repeated circles around his neck inside his mystical scarf as he descends into the sewers... a fitting place for a dead fish...
Cuki seems to have been last in line. Leisurely steps take time after all. As they all disappear down the ladder Cuki can only look down into the flowing cesspit questioning the sanity of his mates. In a sigh Cuki follows suit, but not before removing his coat, pants, and jewelry. Gently they are set aside under the tree along with his staff. Cuki returns to the manhole, taking a hold of the sides of the ladder so as to slide down into the reeking pit.
Caedan seamlessly drops into the sewer when the ladder abruptly stops half-way down. Sanitarily booted feet land on a very narrow ledge that she had apparently been aiming for, and without checking on the rest of the party's descent, she'll weave her way into one of the tunnels. Minds around her are touched upon; very briefly, checking for presences like a mother would her brood of children on an excursion. Tenebrae's is dwelt on a half-second longer than the rest, a message presented and erased in nearly the same instant. With a deliberate crinkling of her nose, she'll drop down off the ledge and into the sludge sewer itself as she marches stalwartly towards an even worse smelling section of the tunnel that, by all accounts and purposes, looks to be a dead end.
Terra was glad that she had enough foresight to replace her suede boots, and that made the drop a bit easier to cope. Having never been in this region, she remained unaware of the safety providing from the ledge and so when she lets go of the ladder, it’s with a splash that marks her entrance. With a sigh, she trudged forwards, attempting desperately to keep up with Caedan and her roaming ways. The smell didn't seem to get any easier to cope with, and once Terra realized that Caedan had led them into a trap, she scowls. Nearby, just beyond her reach, a body lay, face already decayed and bits of skin ripped away by whatever lurked in these sewers. No words would be offered; for Terra feared that opening her mouth would lead to more than just words spilling out.
Tenebrae was and was not glad she'd chosen to wear those steel heels that added a touch of height to her frame; her nose was a model of Caedan's own in expression, delicate sniff regretted the second she took it. Oh well. Leather would clean, smells could be washed away. The splash and ripple of her feet landing from ledge to muck was hardly that a rodent would make, though indeed it sent a few scuttling along brick juts and perhaps sunken pipes. Out of earshot of Larket's good citizens, she risked a whisper, "What in the name of Sven's left knocker are we after', Caedan?" It was a hiss, soft as the seep of gasses that rose to, unroselike, assails her senses so. And it went unaswered for the now, a roll of eyes given the near-silent stalking of the psychic forward into those underground reaches. Eyes, night worthy and keen, reflected whatever of light there might be phosphorescing in the man-built tunnels, checking the number of them, all present. And onward...
Kasyr wasn't always of the most brilliant persuasion. That was to say; upon the particularly noisome introduction of Terra to the sewers below; he'd simply take that as an invitation to forego any sort of stealth, those ever partially gloved hands moving to either side of the ladder so he could simply slip down with naught more than the swish of wind about his trench coated form- and the inevitable crash of murky waters; the putrid stagnation that Larket rested atop seeming enthralled with the idea of clinging to the poor Demi-incubus. Still, even partially drenched in waters that even a Fermin might be picky about drinking {After all, there's a general rule about not pissing where you eat...And Vice versa}, he'd carry on. Hell, it was only a minor indignity in the greater scheme of things anyways; and he didn't have a tongue left to bitch with due to one of those greater ones anyways. Those afterwards he trudges, up until he reaches the invariable dead end; Damn Anti-Climaxes.
Shishi’s mind is free to wander in spite of the pain that comes along with each of his steps. His thoughts are off his children as he's used to nocturnal wanderings without them, his sleep schedule never matching up with that of his offspring. As he painfully drops down into the sludge from the inadequately long ladder, splashing some sewage up onto his pants, he daydreams about taking this trip as Pink; his female alter ego created for stealth purposes, ruining the dress Terra gave him in order to be anonymous in these sewers... such thoughts should entertain Caedan should she pry into his mind again... After being lost in thought for a few moments he feels as if he should pick up his pace in fear of being left behind despite not being last in line, splashing up more of the vile waters that he treads on. He nearly runs into Kasyr's back when the group is halted at the dead end. Looking around curiously it seems he's the one least affected by the smell here, his nostrils have had more time to adjust as he's been walking around with a dead fish all day...
Cuki follows suit, although he seems to completely lack the concept of subterfuge. The monk's voice rises in question, "For what purpose are we staring at a wall again?"
Caedan paws at some loose dirt which falls away easily to reveal a very small hole, which she shimmies into while beaming back a smile at the others, pleased that they've come so far. A furrow creases her brow as events unfold in her head, but any episode is held at bay as she disappears down the make-shift slide of bone-bits and left-over sewer sludge. Those who choose not to venture into the pathetic and absolutely disastrously smelling hole -- you know, the ones that think the psychic is all crazy talk -- are going to find themselves exploring a way out in the beginnings of the fermin city they've currently wandered into, and exploring themselves right into custody and marched to the cheese-making building to be put to work until they can be processed and stuck in prison. Too many cooks in the kitchen, you know. The others, the ones that've profited from zany notions and explorations in the past, and don't mind a bit more grime and a bit more stench -- the ones that follow, will be rewarded by finding themselves in an utterly disgusting city filled with upright rat-men and rat-women, trailing after a girl who really isn't much cleaner than the lot of them who is rambling on and on about shiny bits and pieces, "just for the taking ..." mingled with an pseudo-warning and helpful, " ... if they squeak when you step on 'em, means you've killed them dead."
Tenebrae 's eyes ground their way around to the tunnel's ceilings again, the psychic's expectancy and its object given both a huff of impatient breath to share, while she rummaged in the pocket of her cloak, fingers closing on the first thing found-- a memento of another night spent in the dark, in a tunnel and only recently. This fistful was dropped summarily upon the floater, its empurpled, water-split features a rictus of mocking hilarity. She'd have repeated Cuki's question, were not her mind then flooded with a brightness of gems and gold, a whisper of a promise that tugged at her heartstrings the way an infant does its mother. Loot. Good excise enough to indulge the woman. Besides, it was good to be with her people again, albeit in the stink and blackness of yet another hole.
Tenebrae followed, creeping through the gap with a suck-in of already flat stomach an instinctive if unhelpful gesture in the process. A rough scrape of brick and mortar later and she was through, into a world she had no idea existed prior to her gaze setting upon the scurry, the bustle, the loping oddness’s that were this subterranean city's denizens. Flat to a wall in seconds, she had her fingers once more grappling in the confines of a pocket for the last of the scent-nulling vials she'd gleaned a while back, and had call to use against animals with sharp noses since. The aroma-altering vial was found, spilt and sprinkled over leather while her eyes watched the progress of her companions into the sewers, or not as the case was. Oh yes, splitting up was always such a good idea, cries a metaphoric precedent of carcasses, somewhere. She made brief prayer that the fluid did not render her cheese-flavoured, and slipped into some darkness or other, probably following the psychic, and her promise of bling.
Terra breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of those who had dared to venture down this forsaken path with her -- as though she had a choice with Caedan serving as the ring-leader. That contionous scratching noise grew louder. Before another step forward was taken, Terra moved backwards and seized the hand of Shishi. In the depths of the dark sewer, he may have caught a glimpse of her fright. With him, she'd move to the body and, following Caedan's example, laid two black roses alongside him. Obviously she was attempting to pay Shishi's 'entrance fee' as well. Though she'd allow him another moment if he wished to pay his own respects. Having concluded that business, they'd move on. Squinted eyes took in the sight of the psychic making her own way through the cavernous under lands, and while a good adventure was appealing, there were other responsibilities to be handled. Treasure-hunter, she was not. With Orange and Yellow in mind, and the memory of Shishi's current physical ailments, she'd lightly tug on Shishi's arm in effort to get him to stay. A shake of the head denied the duo's involvement, and she'd gesture the way from which they came ... or so she thought was the way. After wandering about for a bit, Terra stated the obvious - "Oops. I think we're lost ...”
Shishi does indeed wish to pay his own way through the sewers and sees this as a chance to rid his person of some unwanted weight. Plucking the black bat from his shoulder and casting it down at the corpse Shishi dreams of the day that rodent with wings doesn't come flapping back to him... today is not that day and a slightly soggy Wakka emerges from the sewage near the body and drops himself back onto the vampire's shoulder, dripping disgusting water off his wings. His first offering refusing to be an offering, Shish drops a crude dagger, crafted of bone, down onto the corpse and continues onward after the group with Terra, her hand in his, though her grasp might be irritating a few burns, he doesn't seem to mind. Shish doesn't need too much convincing to get him to stay out of the hole Caedan was leading them into so a nod is given to Terra before she leads him the other way. The vampire blinks oceanic eyes in the dark, his sight confirming Terra's thoughts, "Aye... we're lost..."
Terra had little other options than to trail after Caedan. The temperamental teenager was not one to cross, and besides, Terra was curious. These were lands she had yet to explore, as was made obvious by her inability to walk by stands and statues without gawking. At the smell, her sensitive nose would curl upwards and a pleading glance was spared for the psychic -- to no avail. With a groan that did nothing to ease the stench, she'd trail downwards.
Tenebrae wasn't far behind, all cape and flutter and deathlike silence, a little grin perched like a curlicue moth wing on her lips and a greedy glint in the ice and laughter of her eyes. Night-time shenanigans had been sorely missed of late, and the vampire was more than a little peckish, missing a certain pirate, enlivened by the tick and swish of blood hammering in the veins of the ones she followed here to this gloomy and ironically null crossing; all her hungers, firing at once. That gaze shone through the pall of chalk and mirth that was her expression, feet taking cat-steps to flit her from this bit of dark to that, making sure to leave visible the seething mass of blackness that cavorted like a knot of ghostly eels about her tiny frame. Bit melodramatic, but it'd give the locals something to whisper about, if they were watched. So it was she followed, smirking at the scene ahead. She really hoped nobody fell down any holes and got eaten by rats.
Kasyr Is playing the tag-along as ever; though fortunately it was in a more physical means than the rife-with-drama-sense that the tiefling was more used to. | It'd be elaborated upon and all, but the typist figured it was mixed company and all...And, right, onwards with the narrative. Bugger, where was I? OH! Er. | It was a pleasant change of events really; for one thing, Terra was present in one piece which was a fairly meaningful sight of itself...and her slightly forceful tour-guide was another of his Wards. Tenebrae's presence was notable enough in itself; though the hybrid had slipped ahead a bit- choosing to remain twixt the two blondes and his leader, rather then dawdle near the back. Really It was good company leading to an odd place; which meant it was practically assured that it would either provide a few smiles, smirks, or due smiting due some as-of-yet-undetermined third party. With any luck; following after the pair would lead to all three~ and so, where else was there to go? And if it somehow didn't? Well, he could make do with a little catch-up then; one supposed it was past due with his disappearing acts.
Shishi was indeed following after Terra. How could he not after promising to see her through some horrid night as she had done for him the night before. Judging purely on his sense of smell alone, he might get such a chance sooner than later. The vampire had put his tired little ones to bed before embarking after the Vampiress and the determined teen. The burn covered male was wincing with almost every step, but what was he to do? He had debts to repay... A dead Goatfish swirls in repeated circles around his neck inside his mystical scarf as he descends into the sewers... a fitting place for a dead fish...
Cuki seems to have been last in line. Leisurely steps take time after all. As they all disappear down the ladder Cuki can only look down into the flowing cesspit questioning the sanity of his mates. In a sigh Cuki follows suit, but not before removing his coat, pants, and jewelry. Gently they are set aside under the tree along with his staff. Cuki returns to the manhole, taking a hold of the sides of the ladder so as to slide down into the reeking pit.
Caedan seamlessly drops into the sewer when the ladder abruptly stops half-way down. Sanitarily booted feet land on a very narrow ledge that she had apparently been aiming for, and without checking on the rest of the party's descent, she'll weave her way into one of the tunnels. Minds around her are touched upon; very briefly, checking for presences like a mother would her brood of children on an excursion. Tenebrae's is dwelt on a half-second longer than the rest, a message presented and erased in nearly the same instant. With a deliberate crinkling of her nose, she'll drop down off the ledge and into the sludge sewer itself as she marches stalwartly towards an even worse smelling section of the tunnel that, by all accounts and purposes, looks to be a dead end.
Terra was glad that she had enough foresight to replace her suede boots, and that made the drop a bit easier to cope. Having never been in this region, she remained unaware of the safety providing from the ledge and so when she lets go of the ladder, it’s with a splash that marks her entrance. With a sigh, she trudged forwards, attempting desperately to keep up with Caedan and her roaming ways. The smell didn't seem to get any easier to cope with, and once Terra realized that Caedan had led them into a trap, she scowls. Nearby, just beyond her reach, a body lay, face already decayed and bits of skin ripped away by whatever lurked in these sewers. No words would be offered; for Terra feared that opening her mouth would lead to more than just words spilling out.
Tenebrae was and was not glad she'd chosen to wear those steel heels that added a touch of height to her frame; her nose was a model of Caedan's own in expression, delicate sniff regretted the second she took it. Oh well. Leather would clean, smells could be washed away. The splash and ripple of her feet landing from ledge to muck was hardly that a rodent would make, though indeed it sent a few scuttling along brick juts and perhaps sunken pipes. Out of earshot of Larket's good citizens, she risked a whisper, "What in the name of Sven's left knocker are we after', Caedan?" It was a hiss, soft as the seep of gasses that rose to, unroselike, assails her senses so. And it went unaswered for the now, a roll of eyes given the near-silent stalking of the psychic forward into those underground reaches. Eyes, night worthy and keen, reflected whatever of light there might be phosphorescing in the man-built tunnels, checking the number of them, all present. And onward...
Kasyr wasn't always of the most brilliant persuasion. That was to say; upon the particularly noisome introduction of Terra to the sewers below; he'd simply take that as an invitation to forego any sort of stealth, those ever partially gloved hands moving to either side of the ladder so he could simply slip down with naught more than the swish of wind about his trench coated form- and the inevitable crash of murky waters; the putrid stagnation that Larket rested atop seeming enthralled with the idea of clinging to the poor Demi-incubus. Still, even partially drenched in waters that even a Fermin might be picky about drinking {After all, there's a general rule about not pissing where you eat...And Vice versa}, he'd carry on. Hell, it was only a minor indignity in the greater scheme of things anyways; and he didn't have a tongue left to bitch with due to one of those greater ones anyways. Those afterwards he trudges, up until he reaches the invariable dead end; Damn Anti-Climaxes.
Shishi’s mind is free to wander in spite of the pain that comes along with each of his steps. His thoughts are off his children as he's used to nocturnal wanderings without them, his sleep schedule never matching up with that of his offspring. As he painfully drops down into the sludge from the inadequately long ladder, splashing some sewage up onto his pants, he daydreams about taking this trip as Pink; his female alter ego created for stealth purposes, ruining the dress Terra gave him in order to be anonymous in these sewers... such thoughts should entertain Caedan should she pry into his mind again... After being lost in thought for a few moments he feels as if he should pick up his pace in fear of being left behind despite not being last in line, splashing up more of the vile waters that he treads on. He nearly runs into Kasyr's back when the group is halted at the dead end. Looking around curiously it seems he's the one least affected by the smell here, his nostrils have had more time to adjust as he's been walking around with a dead fish all day...
Cuki follows suit, although he seems to completely lack the concept of subterfuge. The monk's voice rises in question, "For what purpose are we staring at a wall again?"
Caedan paws at some loose dirt which falls away easily to reveal a very small hole, which she shimmies into while beaming back a smile at the others, pleased that they've come so far. A furrow creases her brow as events unfold in her head, but any episode is held at bay as she disappears down the make-shift slide of bone-bits and left-over sewer sludge. Those who choose not to venture into the pathetic and absolutely disastrously smelling hole -- you know, the ones that think the psychic is all crazy talk -- are going to find themselves exploring a way out in the beginnings of the fermin city they've currently wandered into, and exploring themselves right into custody and marched to the cheese-making building to be put to work until they can be processed and stuck in prison. Too many cooks in the kitchen, you know. The others, the ones that've profited from zany notions and explorations in the past, and don't mind a bit more grime and a bit more stench -- the ones that follow, will be rewarded by finding themselves in an utterly disgusting city filled with upright rat-men and rat-women, trailing after a girl who really isn't much cleaner than the lot of them who is rambling on and on about shiny bits and pieces, "just for the taking ..." mingled with an pseudo-warning and helpful, " ... if they squeak when you step on 'em, means you've killed them dead."
Tenebrae 's eyes ground their way around to the tunnel's ceilings again, the psychic's expectancy and its object given both a huff of impatient breath to share, while she rummaged in the pocket of her cloak, fingers closing on the first thing found-- a memento of another night spent in the dark, in a tunnel and only recently. This fistful was dropped summarily upon the floater, its empurpled, water-split features a rictus of mocking hilarity. She'd have repeated Cuki's question, were not her mind then flooded with a brightness of gems and gold, a whisper of a promise that tugged at her heartstrings the way an infant does its mother. Loot. Good excise enough to indulge the woman. Besides, it was good to be with her people again, albeit in the stink and blackness of yet another hole.
Tenebrae followed, creeping through the gap with a suck-in of already flat stomach an instinctive if unhelpful gesture in the process. A rough scrape of brick and mortar later and she was through, into a world she had no idea existed prior to her gaze setting upon the scurry, the bustle, the loping oddness’s that were this subterranean city's denizens. Flat to a wall in seconds, she had her fingers once more grappling in the confines of a pocket for the last of the scent-nulling vials she'd gleaned a while back, and had call to use against animals with sharp noses since. The aroma-altering vial was found, spilt and sprinkled over leather while her eyes watched the progress of her companions into the sewers, or not as the case was. Oh yes, splitting up was always such a good idea, cries a metaphoric precedent of carcasses, somewhere. She made brief prayer that the fluid did not render her cheese-flavoured, and slipped into some darkness or other, probably following the psychic, and her promise of bling.
Terra breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of those who had dared to venture down this forsaken path with her -- as though she had a choice with Caedan serving as the ring-leader. That contionous scratching noise grew louder. Before another step forward was taken, Terra moved backwards and seized the hand of Shishi. In the depths of the dark sewer, he may have caught a glimpse of her fright. With him, she'd move to the body and, following Caedan's example, laid two black roses alongside him. Obviously she was attempting to pay Shishi's 'entrance fee' as well. Though she'd allow him another moment if he wished to pay his own respects. Having concluded that business, they'd move on. Squinted eyes took in the sight of the psychic making her own way through the cavernous under lands, and while a good adventure was appealing, there were other responsibilities to be handled. Treasure-hunter, she was not. With Orange and Yellow in mind, and the memory of Shishi's current physical ailments, she'd lightly tug on Shishi's arm in effort to get him to stay. A shake of the head denied the duo's involvement, and she'd gesture the way from which they came ... or so she thought was the way. After wandering about for a bit, Terra stated the obvious - "Oops. I think we're lost ...”
Shishi does indeed wish to pay his own way through the sewers and sees this as a chance to rid his person of some unwanted weight. Plucking the black bat from his shoulder and casting it down at the corpse Shishi dreams of the day that rodent with wings doesn't come flapping back to him... today is not that day and a slightly soggy Wakka emerges from the sewage near the body and drops himself back onto the vampire's shoulder, dripping disgusting water off his wings. His first offering refusing to be an offering, Shish drops a crude dagger, crafted of bone, down onto the corpse and continues onward after the group with Terra, her hand in his, though her grasp might be irritating a few burns, he doesn't seem to mind. Shish doesn't need too much convincing to get him to stay out of the hole Caedan was leading them into so a nod is given to Terra before she leads him the other way. The vampire blinks oceanic eyes in the dark, his sight confirming Terra's thoughts, "Aye... we're lost..."