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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Apr 18, 2023 4:58:04 GMT -5
It was no secret that Kamille had quite a few connections everywhere she went, so it didn't strike her as a surprise when her arrival was expected. With Kalaf safely in the forest, it was one of her Black Quills, Edgar, that greeted her at the entrance of the city.
"Good morning, Mother Raven. It would seem it's a lovely day to buy arrows."
As he said so, he handed her over a small package, the size of a letter. She glanced over it, her deep blue eyes imediatelly lighting up in recognition before she put it away.
"Sounds like it. Good morning, Edgar. I hope the city is calm today."
It wasn't. The Witch would be the first to admit she liked the general chaos of a busy city - in fact, she was one of the few that liked that about Sol City, despite its propensity of seeing her separated of her coin pouch. It reminded her of her years as an apprentice, a terrible apprentice, that would slide off of her classes to go drink with the sailors at the docks, hear the latest hot gossips and watch the men work hard - so to speak. She traveled between the worlds of the Court and the streets with ease, and she assumed that might be one of the reasons the high society didn't seem keen on giving her what she wanted.
But it was better that way, no doubt.
At least she felt a little more at ease at Eclipse City, where her image was a little bit more solidified and even your everyday idiot had heard about her, and would think twice about trying to pick her pockets. Her feathery cloak swished softly on the morning breeze, brushing back her hair. Mischief seemed to be awakened by the gentle wind, getting out of the depths of the warmth of her hood to take his morning flight.
"CAWWWW! Shinny!"
And with that, the raven flew off to find its shinning piece of anything, while Kamille dropped her package at a small store that sold all kinds of hunting equipment. She ended up buying a few more arrows for Allan, just because, and she would buy more daggers for Edgar if he liked anything, but apparently those were bad quality items and she didn't insist on that. They left the store quickly, making their way down the street.
As she took a turn, she saw something that made her chuckle. A man, wrapped in rags, had set up a small table on the side of the streets and had three cups on it. He would put a coin in one of the cups, scramble them, and ask whoever wanted to give him the light of day where the coin was. His expectator at the moment was Mischief, the raven. And it would seem Mischief was having some trouble getting it right, clearly starting to get angry, cawing and flapping his wings furiously. Kamille stopped in front of the man.
"Go easy on him, good sir. He's not the brightest."
And, as always, it was when she was distracted, just like that, that the quick hands approached her purse.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Apr 18, 2023 5:25:53 GMT -5
C'Leena had found a wooden bench and decided to sit down for a while and people-watch. The town was quite lively, the amount of people not bothering her in the slightest. She grew up in environments like this, so it felt familiar to her. Comforting, almost.
Nearby was a street performer doing a cup trick. Hiding a coin, shuffling and making whoever was there guess where the coin was. It was amusing to truly notice the slight of hand, moving the coin from one coin to another. C'Leena looked down to her notepad of sorts. It wasn't proper paper as she knew it, but it did the job well enough.
Written on the paper were a number of sigils and various runic sets. Experimentation to simply ignite the paper was fruitless as the sigils wouldn't accept mana from her. The one time it did, it sparked, then crapped out entirely. Despite the failure, that had bolstered her resolve and continued.
C'Leena looked back up to the performer and saw a bird of all things trying their luck. It wasn't going well for the poor raven, and it almost seemed like it was getting angry at getting it wrong. C'Leena chuckled, amused at the sight. It was incredibly jarring to see cases of magic everywhere she goes, but despite that she's slowly gotten used to it.
Soon enough, a woman turned the corner, standing out amongst the crowd. She approached the stand, and immediately something was off. Not with her, but a nearby bloke who stood from a bench next to her and began hastily walking toward the woman.
Feeling like this might be one of the many pickpockets in these streets - she'd fared decently well, having only a few people try their luck - she stood up after him and followed at a slight distance, ensuring that her rapiers' peace knot was untied.
Seeing the man bob down for a moment and continue approaching, C'Leena sped up her pace and carefully drew the rapier, not intending harm but to merely get a point across. She chuckled quietly to herself at her poor joke. Reaching the bloke, she merely tapped the shoulder of the pickpocket and rested the tip of the blade on his shoulder. He predictably froze, not expecting to being caught out, apparently.
They were mere feet away from the performer, the raven and the woman whos purse this man had eyes for. C'Leena spoke up.
"Excuse me, miss? I believe this bloke was about to try a little something. What'chu want done with 'im?" she asked, accidentally slipping into her normal slang and not entirely noticing it. Her accent is unfamiliar, definitely not a local.
Keeping the pickpocket at sword-point is a 6' woman with bronze skin, short curly black hair and aquamarine crystalline eyes that lack pupils, irises or sclera. Even in the early morning sun, they seem to faintly glow. She was wearing rather strange clothing compared to everyone else, wearing fabrics and materials that are largely unknown other than the leather of her belt. She was wearing a white tank-top with the sleeves of a coat wrapped around her waist. She had a pair of blue jeans and rather heavy duty looking work boots on.
She looks rather well built, but also appears marred with burn scars around her eyes and shoulders that seem to wrap around to her back. Strangely enough, these scars don't go further than her shoulder, stopping in such a way that creates a defined line between scarred flesh and healthy tissue. The scarring looks rather nasty, but old.
She looks at the mystery woman - strangely enough you know she's making eye contact, despite not being able to see exactly where she's looking due to the lack of details in her eyes - and has a wry smile plastered across her face.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on May 3, 2023 11:04:27 GMT -5
The woman chuckled as the raven started to get more and more annoyed at the performer before it. It was like a little child throwing a tantrum, croaking loudly when he picked the wrong cup - which was always. Kamille couldn't see it, but she knew there was a sleigh of hand involved in his game, and she couldn’t help but find it funny how Mischief was progressively getting more annoyed, as he wasn’t able to figure out what the man was doing.
And as much as the bird didn’t see what was happening in front of him, the woman also looked completely unaware of the man that had the intention of pouncing on her. Usually, Edgar would be enough of a threat to scare away the small thieves, but she also came to the conclusion that her associate liked the chase and the surprised look of facing the menacing half elf when successfully picking his Master's pocket. This time, it was Kamille that looked surprised as someone else stepped forward to stand between the thief and her purse.
That was... unusual, and it was clear by her surprised expression the woman was not used to it, nor.... what the fuck was this poor soul wearing?!?!
Eventually, words came back to her lips.
".....uuhhhhh.... Oh! Oh, dear....... This happens so frequently... my, thank you, Miss."
Kamille was clearly stalling for a moment, buying some time to shake off the stupor of the strangeness of the situation. Not only this lady was dressed so differently, but she had an accent she never heard before. She felt so foreign, and the Witch was clearly measuring her. Sometimes, foreign and weird people would land on Charon saying to have come from other faraway lands, maybe this was one of them?
"Oh my.... Thank you, Miss! Thank you so much! I assume my associate can take care of him... Now, at least..."
Edgar didn’t miss the stinky eye he received from his boss, but beneath his mask offered a rare, sheepish smile she could only notice by the squinting of his eyes. He moved forward to surrender the poor bastard, that now seemed to really realize how much of a big mistake he had made. Edgar was tall, slightly bulky for an elf, and had very heavy hands, nearly lifting the thief off the ground without the slightest effort. The man's protests were soon met with Edgar's "gentleness".
The game of the performer completely forgotten, Kamille turned her full attention to the woman. The Witch was clearly a caster, a master of the arcane arts - her eyes left no margin to doubt. Deep blue eyes with stars swirling and dancing, with a strange pull, eyes of undertow, strong as the tide.
And it didn’t escape her that the stranger also had curious eyes; polished gemstones, with a flawless sheen that pierced through her. Certainly drew her interest and curiosity. Her wry smile was reflected in a genuine smile of her own.
"Looks like I owe you, Miss. I'm Kamille... And you are...?"
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on May 3, 2023 14:04:12 GMT -5
With practiced ease, C'Leena sheathed her rapier and retied the peace knot around the hilt. She could tell this day would be rather interesting. Perhaps Nephele would like to hear about her.
C'Leenas wry smile turned genuine as she finished the knot quickly. She extended her hand for a handshake. "Dr. C'Leena Thomas. Nice to meet you, Kamille." Her eyes quickly take in Kamilles attire. She's never been one for fashion, but it looks nice, at least to her eyes.
C'Leenas hand is cold to the touch, akin to cold steel of armor or a blade. Kamille would most likely recognize an illusion when she saw one, especially if it's only visual. Along the metal, grooves are felt as if writing was covering the surface.
"Oh, and please, you owe nothing. You think I'd just let someone take your things? Nah, I could stop the bloke, so I did. Easy as that." she says easily. C'Leenas eyes land on the Raven that was having a hard time with the street performer.
"I've been watching your(?) raven get increasingly annoyed at this bloke here. It's been amusing to watch, honestly," She says before glancing in the ravens direction. "Sorry, bud."
C'Leena felt that asking about the masked individual who just took away the pickpocket wouldn't be the best idea. Sensing a sort of guard protecting their VIP situation going on, she opts to simply give the man a nod and a "G'day."
"Now, stop me if this is rude, but you seem awfully magical; what with those eyes and everything. Sorry, I'm simply new-ish here in.. Charon? Yeah that's right. New in Charon and to this whole magic business." C'Leena has never been one to hide her inexperience. She's been learning a lot, and knows a handful of spells but she feels like she might as well be a newborn in the perspective of magic to this woman. Perhaps she can extract some tips from her?
C'Leenas primary use of magic is her Inscriptions. She'd been experimenting and trying to get a functional sense of touch in her limbs, and she's slowly making progress, but right now it's more akin to someone extremely lightly brushing a feather against you when someone is knocking pretty hard on the surface. Still, it's progress.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on May 17, 2023 10:29:10 GMT -5
C'Leena would notice the raise of an eyebrow as they shook hands - it could only mean she at least suspected of something. But she would not mention it now - later perhaps, if the conversation went on friendly enough. On C'Leena's side, she could notice that black claws were stitched to the ends of the Witch's gloves
"That’s very kind of you. My associates often like the chase a bit more than to act preemptively..."
She eyes the masked man that took the thief, confirming before the woman he seemed to act somewhat like a body guard. What C'Leena didn’t know, however, was that he was not the only one.
The next assumptions from C'Leena didn’t seem to fall rudely to Kamille's ears. On the contrary, her eyes lighted up in excitement when she heard the woman was not from Charon.
"Oh, that would be correct to assume... I am, among a couple of other things, a mage... But people will often refer to me as the Witch of Moonglade or Mother Raven. You can imagine why that one."
With a gesture, the raven that seemed to be getting more and more angry with the performer took flight and went to perch on her shoulder.
"This here is Mischief, and yes, he's with me."
"CAWW! I am Mischief!"
"You said you're not from Charon, right? And where are you from? Would you happen to want to chat over a drink? A proper lady would say it's too early for a drink, but I find it a perfectly good time!"
It was clear the woman was a curious one, which seemed to be a common trait among mages and studious people, even if... even if she looked a tad more dramatic than your average caster. She certainly had a presence, a warm touch and deep eyes.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on May 17, 2023 11:02:29 GMT -5
The use of 'associates', plural, doesn't escape her as she raises an eyebrow of her own. Releasing the handshake, she hooks her thumbs into the beltloops of her jeans and takes on a more relaxed posture. She is taken aback by the talking raven, too, although it's less so than she would have if she'd encountered this weeks ago.
"G'day, cobber," she nods toward the raven. You know she's growing used to magic when she's more and more willing to speak with birds that talk back. She returns her attention to Kamille for now, however. "I assume Kamille is preferred?" she asks. Always better to be told you're correct than have to be corrected.
She shrugs before speaking. "I'm from a place called Melbourne, in a place called Australia. Long, long way away from here, dal." She smiles a smile that doesn't entirely reach her eyes. Kamilles next question provides a subject change that she is more than grateful for. "Lucky I'm no proper woman, aye? Yeah, I'm keen. Lead the way." She smiles, this time it reaches her eyes properly.
C'Leena herself has a unique presence. Not only does she stand out in a crowd, both literally and figuratively, there's something about her cadence and general demeanor that evokes a sense of calm to who she talks to. Her accent may be rough and thick, but there's a certain charm to her words that is difficult to pin down.
Her mind begins to immediately wander to various questions, so she decides to fill the silence. "Mind if I ask what someone has to do to have a reputation as the Witch of Moonglade? Y'know, other than being a witch in Moonglade." She jokes, the smile making a reappearance. Her smile seems to be a feature of her face, so much so that if she were without one, it would look uncanny almost.
As cool as having a reputation sounds, C'Leena isn't sure that she'd want one for herself. Right now, she simply wants to be herself. Live her life with Nephele, see where that eventually leads. As gratifying as it would be to be something like 'Doctor of Kings Valley' or something, it would probably restrict what she could do. Spending weeks upon weeks with Nephele has given C'Leena her own yearning for freedom and her own 'wanderlust' as Neph calls it. Might pay well, though. Thoughts for later.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on May 30, 2023 11:29:04 GMT -5
"G'day, cobber! G'day, cobber!"
The raven parroted back at C'Leena her greeting, apparently finding it quite a combination of words.
Kamille was obviously extremely curious about C'Leena, she wouldn’t hide as much. Maybe it was something most mages had in common, both their triumph and their downfall.
Curiosity.
Something, something, curiosity and cats, right?
"Of course! Call me Kamille. Can I simply call you C'Leena? What is the place you came from like? Is it awfully different from Charon? Your clothes are very different from what we're used to. What is this fabric?"
The shower of questions that followed was perhaps more suited for the lips of a curious, annoying child - but perhaps there were more similarities between children and mages than it was obvious at first glance. The Witch started walking, waiting for the woman to follow, so they could go grab an early drink at the nearby tavern.
"Well, in my case, at first I believe they started to call me "Witch" in...... not a nice way, if you get me. People would often come to me with problems, and I would fix them. Whether it was a stomach ache, battle wounds from a beast..... or a beating husband, a late moonblood..... You get it, right?"
Apparently, the Witch had nothing to hide. If her name was so widespread as she claimed, at least around Moonglade, her dramatic and very specific appearance was also probably very easy to recognize.
"Eventually, the Witch of Moonglade became a bit more respected, I suppose..... more so around Moonglade, at least. But apparently not enough to fall victim to prying hands..."
She chuckled at that, as she led C'Leena into a tavern. For the time of the day, it was fairly empty and calm, quiet. A few unsuspecting people taking their breakfast, probably... and a few figures curled up in the shadows, trying not to draw attention and undoubtly doing so in the process.
"You seemed fairly confident about the situation back there... Is that common where you come from? Are you trying to go back, by any chance? What did you do there?"
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on May 30, 2023 12:05:38 GMT -5
C'Leena chuckles at the raven copying her greeting. This bird is quite.. interesting to say the least. C'Leena follows behind Kamille, mildly taken aback by the onslaught of questions thrown at her. It takes her a second to process what was asked, opting to start with the most simple.
"Yeah, C'Leena works a charm. I only really accept being called 'Doctor' or something along those lines if I'm working." She chuckles, before taking a second to figure out what question to answer next. "The place I'm from is rather dystopian. Not a good place to live, honestly. I was lucky to not be stuck below the poverty line cause of my job, but it was a close thing." She's not sure where to begin when it comes to talking about where she hails from. "It's a complicated place. Lots of things that wouldn't make sense here, truth be told. But yeah, it's very different from Charon in a million different ways."
"My clothes? Oh, right." She takes the hem of her tank top and raises it up to more closely inspect it. She's not 100% on the material, being fairly certain it's just heavily processed cotton. In doing so, she revealed some more scarring around her lower abdomen. Again, the burn scarring looks incredibly bad, but old. On top of the marred skin, she also has a set of abs that might as well be steel. It's almost as if she has only worked her core for years on end, ignoring her arms and legs. Truthfully, that's exactly what happened, seeing as you don't need to work out machines.
The scarring that covers a portion of her abs don't even take away from them. Even through the scarring and flesh, they are incredibly defined, and the scars somehow just enhance that definition. Her entire core puts a new definition on 'Defined Musculature'. It would surprise nobody if it was both as solid as steel and sharp enough to grate cheese on, AND function as a grill. Finally answering the question Kamille asked, she speaks up. "Cotton, I think? Pants are denim, too. I haven't actually seen anything made of denim here so sadly I need to preserve these."
Moving on as if nothing happened, she drops the hem of her tank top and straightens it out and continues walking with Kamille. She listens to how Kamille came to get the title, and she pauses on 'Moonblood'. It takes her a second to understand what that's supposed to mean, but she responds with a silent "Ah" when she gets it.
They walk into the tavern where she looks around for a moment, catching the people hiding in corners and, most importantly, the open fire. C'Leena takes an automatic step away from it as she follows Kamille further inside, only breaking her gaze on it after a few extended moments. "What, pickpockets? No, actually. Sure, there was crime where I come from and tons of it, but I wasn't a subject of being pickpocketed.. I think. Nah, I just moved on instinct there. Again, I had the chance to do something, so I did. Easy as."
"As for heading back? I used to, but now? Not so much. I mean, I'd love to go back, but I'd always return back here. I have some things back there that I need to revisit. Can't really do that here. And I was a Doctor back there. Something called a 'Prosthetist'; someone who made fake limbs for people and attached them so they got use of their missing limb again. Loved the job so I'm trying to get it working here, too. Magic makes that a bit more complicated, though."
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Jun 12, 2023 9:56:05 GMT -5
"Doctor? Reall-...?"
Kamille was about to inquiry if "doctor" meant the same thing it meant in Charon, but such thought imediatelly and quite suddenly fled her mind. In fact, all kinds of complex thought processes were put on hold as C'Leena were inspecting her weird clothing up and close and ended up exposing her abdomen.
By Lunala's tits...
That day sure was an eventful one, and if walking wasn't such an automatic process, she would have failed on that too. C'Leena had some killer core, and she would be the first one to recognize that. Thankfully, C'Leena was saying something interesting, so her idiotic expression could easily be mistaken by the awe before the information she was being given. Something something.... Prosthetist? What was that? Something something... Fake limbs? What?
She stopped talking. It was her turn! Quick! Think!
"Uhhh... I'm sorry, fake limbs?"
Great recovery. She was proud of herself... for the entirety of ten seconds, before she hardly bumped into someone in the middle of the street.
Kamille was too distracted to notice the man, but even if C'Leena wasn't as distracted, she would come to realize... the man wasn't there just a couple of seconds before. He had a charming smile - a knowing smile - and promptly held Kamille up as she bumped against him, almost as if he expected such.
"Good morning, boss. Enjoying a morning walk? I'm sure the environment of the Tipsy Poney is a bit more suited for this calm morning... The Cobalt Dragon is, uh... Does not hold the best company at this very moment..."
Boss. He called her boss, and upon closer inspection, it was clear his clothing was very similar to the one that just left them with the pickpocketer. Also a half-elf, this one was a bit smaller, slender, carrying a bow on his back. He also had a toothy smile of someone used to charming their way out of situations, even if he looked like someone who could fight his way out of it too. Still, a very punchable face.
He knew his boss well enough to not be surprised; so he merely caught her before she would ram her head into a pole or something. When he accepted the job, he didn't expect he would have to babysit one of the most powerful mages ever. It was funnier than expected.
Kamille took a moment to recover, taking a step back and noticing they were already at the doorstep of the tavern she intended to take C'Leena for a drink.
"Oh... A-hem... C'Leena, this is another one of my associates... What do you mean? Who...?"
The half-elf cleared his throat.
"A few members of the Dial Fract-..."
"Fuck them. Let's go, C'Leena."
She thought he meant someone important. Whether it was the attempted robery, incredible core muscles or just her plain tendency for mischief... Kamille chose chaos this morning.
The Witch led C'Leena into the tavern, closely followed by her other associate.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Jun 12, 2023 18:55:28 GMT -5
Now, C'Leena wasn't entirely thinking through her actions when she looked at the material of her clothing. Generally, she is adverse to showing her body because of the burns that mar her skin. Having said that, Kamille seemed to very slightly stumble upon looking at C'Leena. More specifically, her abdomen.
C'Leena looked at Kamille with what started as a confused look, then morphed into her holding back laughter as she dropped the hem of her tank top. "Well that's a reaction," She says, now beginning to fail at not laughing. Small chuckles escape C'Leenas lips as they walk. "Not even my fiancé has that particular reaction, damn. Keeping this one in mind." She chuckles again, already forming ways to bugger with Kamille.
"Yeah, fake limbs! Funnily enough, someone called me a Necromancer for saying that one. Nah, more like what you guys would know as artifice. Like.. Wait shit, why am I trying to explain this, I can just show you-" As C'Leena is about to show Kamille what she means, She bumps into the man who calls her 'Boss.' Another associate, huh? As Kamille introduces the man, C'Leena responds with a simple "G'day".
Standing in front of the tavern, it looks pretty nice. It's no Purple Lantern, but that's alright. Rather it be here than there in case shit breaks loose, which is the little gut feeling that C'Leena is getting. This Dial frac.. Fracture? These people are apparently not on very good terms with Kamille, but she seems awfully unworried about it. She supposes that's fair enough, she's apparently more than capable of fucking each and every one of them up. That would be wildly entertaining to watch.
"Wanna tell me who these 'Dial Fracture' people or something are? Y'all don't seem to have the greatest relationship." She says matter-of-factly. It doesn't at all concern her but if she's about to walk into a tavern where Kamille has an active feud with what sounds like multiple people, she wants to know what she's getting into.
Walking in and taking a look around, There are a few people inside. The early hours means that most of the patrons are from last night still continuing or the few day drinkers. Quickly, however, her attention is arrested by the small fireplace, which C'Leena takes an automatic step away from, only breaking her glare after a few moments of verifying it's not about to set shit on fire.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Jun 18, 2023 18:40:02 GMT -5
If C'Leena expected Kamille to show some embarrassement with being caught taking a peek at her abs, she would be dissappointed. She might've straightening up and regained a focused look on her face, but there was not enough shame for even a slight blush.
"Well! Your fiance is surely a lucky one! I'm sure she's just more discrete than me... But I bet you she's also looking. I'm sorry, this is Allan by the way."
Allan, her other associate, hardly seemed surprised by his boss' demeanor before some shreded abs. After giving C'Leena a polite bow of the head, however, he shot a worried glance towards Kamille as she promptly marched to the tavern's front door.
"You're the boss, boss..."
And then... he vanished [1,2]. If it was easy like that for them to simply dissappear, it begged the question: How many people were with her at all times? It was no wonder she didn’t worry about her purse when out in the streets if she had at least one or two people to look after her.
The Witch literally had an army of dangerous babysitters.
The tavern itself wasn’t much lively at that time of the day, still slow and quiet compared to what it could be during the night. Kamille whispered to C'Leena.
"The Dial Fractum doesn’t like witches and magic users. You can imagine why we don’t hold the best of relationships..."
Despite such ominous warning, far from looking like a professional witch hunter operation, everyone in the tavern looked much like your everyday worker. A group sat together in a table to one corner of the stabilishment, speaking to themselves in soft, hushed voices. They shot the women some stinky glances, frowning deeply - but other than that, they didn’t do much for now.
Kamille raised an eyebrow at C'Leena's knee jerk reaction away from the fireplace, putting a mental pin on that. She would need to bring that up eventually, but for now she guided the woman to the bar, where she tapped her claws against the counter. The barman emerged before them swiftly, and for a brief second they could see worry in his eyes. He was clearly doing the math, glancing to the ladies and back to the seated group. He seemed to think if he didn’t mention it, it would go away, like burying one's hand in the sand.
"What can I do for the ladies?"
"For me it's a glass of red. My mate's drink is on me."
The barman would wait for C'Leena's order, before going to fetch their drinks. Properly seated by a high stool, Kamille turned once again to C'Leena.
"You were talking about fake limbs... what was that all about?"
[1]Invisibility [2]Silent step
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Jun 18, 2023 19:17:28 GMT -5
C'Leena wasn't expecting embarrassment, but she wasn't expecting blunt honesty. Frankly, it just made her laugh. "Maybe," She says simply. Frankly, if she even starts talking about Nephele, she wont stop. Opting to hold that particular topic until asked about it, she walks in with Kamille. She is curious about how the man just vanished, and indeed, she does wonder how many people are watching over them now.
Clocking the people giving Kamille dirty looks and listening to her warning, C'Leena leans in, whispering back. "Shit, magic is the only reason I'm alive. Heres hoping they don't figure that one out." Despite her words, she chuckles and walks with Kamille deeper into the building. Sitting at the stool, C'Leena simply opts for mead since she has absolutely 0 intention to get inebriated right now. Far too early to be drunk.
"Oh, right. Here, let me show you," Kamille would see runic script flash an aquamarine color from just under C'Leena's skin, before the illusory skin promptly fades away, revealing metallic limbs in place of her arms. "I didn't work on these ones specifically, but I worked on limbs kinda similar to this. Sometimes, people have to get limbs removed due to infection, damage or whatever, and I come in and give them fake ones that connect to their nervous system and a bunch of other complicated crap so they can control the prosthetic like a normal limb.
"Only downside is that for obvious reasons, you can't feel through these prosthetics. Magic Bullshit though lets me do a shitload of meditation and what basically is magical nerve therapy to slightly feel through the limb. It's not much progress, but it's progress nonetheless."
Receiving her drink, she thanks the barkeep, takes a drink and continues speaking. C'Leena either doesn't clock or doesn't care about the barkeeps surprise that her arms have changed from skin to metal. "While I don't install them myself, I have also worked on making artificial organs for people. Those were in more demand most of the time, since people lose more organs than limbs."
"Real quick, how many of those 'associates' do you have staring at us?" She asks with a smile. It's clear it doesn't particularly bother her, she's merely asking out of morbid curiosity. C'Leena also promptly ignores the death glares she's receiving from the Fractum people.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Jul 4, 2023 18:00:59 GMT -5
Whether the Dial Fractum wasn't as much of a threat as her associate seemed to think, or if Kamille was so far up her own ass to not see it as a threat it was hard to tell. At a first glance, despite the nasty glances, it wouldn't look like they were an especialized group - or unified even, as they looked just a step up from your every day peasant. The one at the center surely looked a bit more put together, a firmer look, but still.
Maybe Kamille was on the right on not worrying about them.
The Witch's eyes light up when C'Leena dismissed the illusion on her arm, inching a bit closer to take a good look at it. If curiosity killed the cat, Kamille must've had at least a thousand lives to spare - and in none of those she seemed to learn the meaning of personal space. She poked and felt the surface of her arm with interest, squinting her eyes at the runes finely etched at the elegant curves of the limb. There was no malice in it, she did just look like a child watching a magic trick for the first time.
"This is truly amazing... I've seen artificial limbs before, but none quite like it... Your hometown must be very advanced. I would love to learn more about it, in detail... So you have a slight feel to the surface? What about pain? Artificial organs sound... Complex. What kind of organs have you successfully made so far? And which ones are the hardest? That is indeed so interesting..."
When C'Leena questioned about her associates, she couldn't help but smile softly, shooting her a knowing glance.
"Three."
Well... No wonder she wasn't worried in the slightest...
But maybe it was time to start worrying, for the talk on the Dial Fractum table seemed to be getting heated, as they seemed to be debating amongst themselves.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Jul 5, 2023 14:56:56 GMT -5
C'Leena was amused by Kamilles curiosity. She couldn't even be offended if she wanted to be - C'Leena is much the same, closely inspecting anything and everything even slightly magical, trying to eek out the secrets buried within. It takes a second to process Kamilles onslaught of questions, but once she orders them, she begins answering them one by one.
"Yes, very slight. It's like the feeling of a feather brushing your skin when you're swinging a sword or carrying something heavy. Feeling is there, just barely. I don't feel pain per-se, but I know that something should hurt, if that makes sense." She pauses, measuring her words carefully. It's difficult translating her modern knowledge to this world and have it make sense, but she thinks she's found a way.
"I've made hearts, lungs, livers, stomachs.. Almost every organ except the brain. The most complex..? They're all insanely complex to confuse even the greatest minds of my old home. I can guarantee you that I could explain each and every detail of a single finger in a prosthetic and you'd lose me fifteen seconds into the explanation. I don't think organs are the most complex, but actual limbs are the most difficult."
"In laymans terms, your arm is connected to a 'Nervous System' which allows your body to know where a limb is and what it's feeling. That nervous system is connected to your brain, which sends signals through the nervous system to muscles, instructing them to contract," C'Leena bends her free arm to illustrate her point. "..Or loosen. What my job is, is to lie to the brain and convince it that this prosthetic is a normal limb, all without using magic."
Her explanation is definitely leaving out some major points, but it's the best she can do for someone unfamiliar with Earths level of technology. Now, with Kamilles confirmation that there are Three of her associates watching them, surprise does run through her features for a moment, before remembering that they're probably all magicked up and invisible. That makes sense to her.
Unlike C'Leena's poor eyesight, her hearing is rather good, so once C'Leena heard tensions rise on the table with the Dial Fractum, C'Leena held up a finger to halt Kamille for a moment as she listened in, eyes closed. "..Outnumber them both!"
"Outnumbered or not, that is Kamille. Have you no sense, boy!?" Scolds an older sounding man. He seems to have at least a little sense in him.
"Kamille? Never heard of her. Look, even if she is this oh so powerful spellcaster, what good can a witch and some woman with artifice limbs do against people up in their face? Magic only goes so far, and it is our job - no, our obligation to rid this city of the scum!" This one sounds far younger and almost snobby - definitely more confident in his abilities than he should be.
"You are out of your bloody mind! Go and pick a fight if you have a death wish. Ignoring Kamille - which you shouldn't do, that other woman gives me a bad feeling, boy. You must understand that if she has both her arms replaced with steel and scars to prove it wasn't self inflicted, she's walked through hell and came out stronger. I will have no part in what you do."
There is a pause as the younger sounding one thinks about what is said. The older one also remains silent, and to add pressure to the younger one, C'Leena takes a long drink from her mug and turns in her seat to face the table, crosses a leg over the other and steeples her fingers against her knee. The younger individual is stood up from his seat and is leaning over the table, looming over the still seated older man.
The latter seems to be in his 30's or so, with a beard and short hair, and the younger one looking exactly how his voice sounds. He's like Draco Malfoy if his bone structure was somehow sharper and also looked like he got whacked upside the head with a frying pan.
The rest of the group are pointedly ignoring the confrontation, some are glaring daggers at C'Leena and Kamille, but are all near silent, except for a few discussing something far more calmly than the primary two. It takes a lot of willpower for her not to just blink over there and scare the shit out of the both of them, but she manages to keep herself seated. For now, at least.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Jul 29, 2023 18:25:46 GMT -5
The look on Kamille’s face wasn’t one of a person trying to understand a foreign language. C’Leena could see she understood what she was saying to some extent, even if the terms and words might be a bit different from what she was used to. It looked like the oddest of pairs could, deep down, have something in common after all.
“I guess I can understand why limbs are harder than organs… While organs are incredibly complex on their own, limbs have many different kinds of systems working together. There’s the bones, and the muscles, and the veins……. A bit of everything, working together.”
It’s been a while since Kamille had the opportunity to talk about such topics… One of the few people she used to talk about such things was… Well, nevermind…
“I may or may not have watched some autopsies in my youth,” she quickly explained, “so I’m curious to understand what is it that you refer as-“
Stopping on her tracks, Kamille looked puzzled as C’Leena asked for a minute of silence. While her hearing was not exceptionally good, in a silent inn in the early hours of the day, it was not quite hard to overhear the hushed voices. More so when her name popped up here and there, which caught her attention even more.
The Witch didn’t look particularly worried - as C’Leena must have understood by now, she had reasons for such. After all, even after knowing that the place had people who might potentially dislike her presence, she chose to walk in regardless. So, not worried, no… But perhaps a bit amused, yes. It’s been a while since she had wanted to define her relationship with the Dial Fractum. As of now, they sat on a limbo, where the organization eyed her from afar without engaging, and she did the same. Kamille might have wanted to be at peace a bit longer, but this undefined state also bothered her - and deep down she knew they would never accept her. It was at the core of their organization.
Better to let things be known.
Kamille turned, glass in hand, as the young man approached the two women. For a fraction of a second, they could see some second thinking behind his eyes when their attention fell on him. He quickly recovered, some renewed bravery found inside - the kind only stupid people with a death-wish had.
For a moment, he just stood there, his hand on the hilt of his sword, looking down on them with what he thought was an intimidating look. It wasn’t working…
He opened his mouth to speak, but the Witch cut him.
“I believe you forgot something back there,” Kamille started, breaking the silence.
The young man looked puzzled for a moment.
“What?” “Your brain. You left it at the table.”
Another patron, also leaning against the counter a couple of stools away, snickered softly. The patron turned to watch it unfold, with interest.
The young man was not pleased, and now was starting to get red in the face. He eyed C’Leena for a moment, trying to convey his anger and managing to look like a spoiled brat.
“You’re not welcome here. Both of you.”
“Says who?”
Ah, it was fun to act childish like that sometimes… How she missed that…
“I’m warning you, Wit-“
“Go ahead then. Warn me.”
The playful smile on her lips slipped away, and suddenly the air around them filled with tension. The man was trying very hard not to look back on his comrades, who had thought his endeavor to be a childish one. And a potentially deadly one. Kamille was growing tired of this unresolved status. If she was to be known as the one who started it, so be it.
“Or maybe I should be the one to warn you.”
The grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth, no doubt to ask if that was a threat - why, silly child. Yes, it was a threat.
But instead of words, a loud yelp left his lips, as he tumbled and face-planted with the grace of a tipsy cow, splattering himself in front of the ladies. Credit where credit’s due, this was not on his own lack of ability, but because a man behind him grabbed his ankles and started to drag him out of the tavern, unceremoniously. The mantle of invisibility that kept the man hidden shimmered away when he “gently” let the man sniff the ground, and it became clear it was another Black Quill, one of Kamille’s associates. Unlike the playful archer, this one was larger, with a broad chest, easily 6’’2, with a ugly scowl that could barely be seen because of his mask.
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