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Post by Lachesis Calyptra on Aug 30, 2023 20:54:46 GMT -5
Darkveil City is far from Lachesis’s favorite place on the continent.
It’s quite the dreary place; veiled beneath the shadow of ash, the sky dyed so thoroughly in shades of vermilion and ebony that the sun rarely ever pierces through, the atmosphere heavy with the scent of smoke, of embers, an inescapable wildfire of a city, hardly helped by the distant shadow and glow of magma of Mount Drakolt in the distance. It’s bitterly hot and there’s all manner of shady dealings there, and while she knows she has absolutely no difficulty defending herself when the chips are down, it’s such a pesky ordeal to clean the blood off of her dress afterward. It stains, after all, and there are few things Lachesis Calyptra hates as much as a stain.
Oh, but it’s always nice to forge connections where she can, wrap an Ashen Mother around her perfectly manicured finger by throwing some coin at her, secure herself a few delectable reputation points in another nation, as well as a few other rewards. Every little bit helps, after all, and she’s not the type to ignore the chance to pounce on an opportunity when she sees it spring up.
But prestige is not necessarily her primarily reason for visiting Darkveil City on this particular occasion– no, this time, she’s here on request.
Some pitiful little thing had come scrambling out all the way to the Marsh Flats in search of her, in search of the Circle of the Moth– some little human painter-in-training, with soft brown hair and a freckled face, comparable to a little mouse herself. As soon as she’d laid eyes upon Lachesis, she’d barely given an introduction before crashing to her knees and begging for her aid, begging the witch to use her glorious powers to save her master from his own hubris– from a painting he’d trapped himself inside. It truly had been a pitiful little display– teary-eyed and brittle-voiced, her little body trembling as she looked up at the witches around her, and Lachesis could see in all their eyes that they expected her hasty denial–
But Lachesis had stepped forward, taken those paint-stained, calloused little hands in hers, and cooed:
“Dry your eyes, child. The Moth guides all home.”
And now, here she is, searching for the home of one Albrecht Goethe, a veil on her face to block out the smoke and annoyance festering in her heart as she once again searches the street for any signs of the place in question. She knew she should have asked for more particular directions– that’s her own fault.
She folds her arms for a moment, contemplating what to do, before a figure catches her eye– some tall man with tired eyes, his cloud-white hair cut short, a pair of glasses settled on the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t look especially busy– perhaps he’ll have an answer for her.
“Pardon me, doll,” she says, sauntering over, idly twirling an ash-blonde strand of hair around a well-manicured finger, red-painted lips twisted into a friendly smile beneath the sheer fabric of her veil. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the home of one Albrecht Goethe is, would you?”
Bringing:
Bella (Dancing Chain) Donna (Dancing Chain)
An ambitious painter in Darkveil has created a magical painting that allows viewers to enter the work of art. However the spell has malfunctioned, causing the artist to become trapped inside their own painting. They now need help, someone to go in, encounter the obstacles that have now come to life and save the painter from their own spell. The details and story of the painting can be entirely up to you. Have creative freedom with the story of this quest.
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Post by Raoul O. Ardelean on Sept 1, 2023 2:22:14 GMT -5
Raoul was currently standing in the middle of Darkveil City looking around for the location of the madhouse he was supposed to enter.
He scratched his chin and wrinkled his forehead in thought, "Where could it be? He didn't think the place would be so hidden. I mean the way that young woman was dressed I thought the painter’s domain would be a bit more obvious".
He was hired to look over an eccentric artist’s experimental painting techniques that got him trapped in his own creations.
He was previously in a tavern in Eclipse City unwinding after speaking to a strange draconian man who talked to him. He decided to look over some past old cold cases to relax and polish his mind before suddenly the doors swung open and a young man appeared frazzled and panicked.
She sprinted to Raoul’s table and yelled in struggling speech as she tried to catch her breath, “Please Mr. Raoul I beg of you to help my master please you're the only detective that I know that could help us out. Please come to Darkveil at your earliest convenience. Our art gallery shall compensate you very handsomely".
He continues lost in thought remembering why he was here in the first place he gets his mind back to the present as he hears a feminine voice call out for him.
He turns around to see an almost goddess-looking woman behind him he stammers a bit before composing himself not wanting to embarrass himself in front of such a beautiful woman.
“Why hello there madame I was just about to look for his place myself right now I can't seem to find it”, he says.
Suddenly the woman from before comes running at the two and says, “Oh I’m so glad I finally found you Sorry for not giving good directions but just follow me”, she says as he waves her hand motioning them to follow.
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Post by Lachesis Calyptra on Sept 1, 2023 20:42:54 GMT -5
A flicker of interest sparks to life in Lachesis’s eyes as soon as the stranger says that he, too, has been trying to locate Mr. Albrecht Goethe’s home as well– how quaint that his mousy little apprentice ran off in search of so many sources of help, but she supposes it makes sense. She’d seemed quite the panicked type, after all, with her big tearful eyes and endless stammering and trembling, fragile form, only somewhat soothed by the witch’s words of comfort before she’d been sent on her way.
Still. She was hardly expecting this to be a job for two, but… she can make this work. She always manages.
“Ah, it truly is so very difficult to find any addresses in Darkveil,” she croons, a short, well-rehearsed laugh spilling from between scarlet-painted lips, her mouth settling into a warm smile. “They don’t exactly have their streets labeled well. Ah, though… I imagine we’re both here for the same thing, no? A poor young lady trying to help her even poorer master with a mishap?”
Lachesis is hardly able to continue the train of thought, hardly able to wait for a response from the man she’s elected to approach when the sound of heavy footfalls catches her attention. She turns briefly, glancing over her shoulder to find the young lady from before slowing to a stop and gasping for air, her eyes as big and pitiful as ever as she looks up at the two of them, an unspoken apology flickering in her face before she manages to straighten up and manage to speak, quickly indicating for them both to follow her before scurrying off again– not unlike a mouse.
All Lachesis can do is shrug at the man beside her, offering another little smile, fluttering her fingers in a wave before starting to walk along behind the panicked young lady, clearly nowhere near as frantic– though she does pause, however briefly, to glance over her shoulder, addressing the stranger as she says:
“Shame she gave us no time for introductions. My name is Lachesis Calyptra. I’m positively charmed, doll.”
Mercifully, it isn’t an overly long walk to get to the painter’s house, and the young lady is quick to usher them both in, directing them past all manner of strange and compelling landscapes and paintings, before finally stopping at one positioned quite carefully on its easel, still, paint discarded on the floor around it.
There’s a palette forgotten on the floor, sheets of protective paper scattered about, but the canvas is clearly complete, each brushstroke achingly precise; it depicts a half-elven man with charcoal-black hair, his eyes a steely shade of grey, swept up in a dance with a skeleton adorned in a wedding gown, its face largely concealed by a sheer veil, blue roses pinning it in place against its skull, the background murky, solemn, barely noticeable against the stark colors of the focus. It is… interesting. Somber. Familiar.
“Y-You see,” that mousy little girl begins. “M-Mister Goethe– h-his wife, um, Octavia– sh-she passed recently, and h-he’s been working on this painting nonstop– and I was really concerned so I came to bring him some dinner one night and he was just gone–”
“Slow down, dear,” Lachesis cuts in, her voice sharp as a butter knife– soft, but still cutting. “What happened?”
“H-He– he found some… some spell! And he went in the painting to– to try and see her and I really, really need your help and I didn’t know who would help more so I figured a witch and a detective would know what to do and I swear we’ll pay you back tenfold, just please help me get my master back…!”
Lachesis hums quietly, that smile never dropping from her face even as she steps forward and sets a hand on the young lady’s shoulder, offering a silent comfort.
“Well, I have every intention of helping– I believe the detective does as well, though I suppose I cannot speak for him. Dry your tears, child– we will solve this.”
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Post by Raoul O. Ardelean on Sept 2, 2023 23:42:59 GMT -5
Raoul responds to Lachesis by saying, “Yeah I think we are she came to me panicked and asked for my services so here I am now. Yeah, looking for the address it’s a hard thing especially since the poor young girl didn’t give us any hints or directions during her panic. So I’ve been trying to use my intuition to look for it on my own but so far I haven’t been able to find a house or building that screams painter who got stuck in his painting yet”, he chuckles softly at his last remark.
Javal turns to face the mysterious woman and says, “Nice to meet you Lachesis Calyptra, I’m also charmed to meet you, the name’s Raoul O. Ardelean".
Raoul then focuses his attention on the mousy woman as he walks jogs a little bit to catch up alongside her and asks, “Alright is there anything we should know before we go in? Any warnings or key information that we need to know about the painter or his paintings?”, He's trying his best to get a good read of the situation before they go in.
Raoul struggles to not get a glance at the paintings on the wall. Whoever this guy was, he was a pretty good artist.
Raoul listens intently as the mousy girl tells the tragic tale about Master Goethe’s wife before saying, “Calm down my dear. Do you need water or something before continuing”, and returns to observing silence as Lachesis speaks.
His eyes soften as he says, “Don’t worry young miss we’ll bring him back, You got my word, here”, he takes out a coin and flips it into her hands, his promise of coin where one side has a scratch on it and the other has a symbol of a bat.
He then says, “That’s my promise I’ll get that back once we bring your master back young lady. Now let’s not dilly dally point us to the painting, and let’s not waste any time in bringing him back”.
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Post by Lachesis Calyptra on Sept 4, 2023 15:15:40 GMT -5
The girl– Goethe’s assistant– is incapable of standing still.
She fidgets nonstop, her fingers twitching where they’re clasped in front of her, lip quivering where her front teeth gently dig into it, her gaze flitting to any point in the room she can focus on for a few seconds at a time, never settling in one place for very long. It’s abundantly clear that she’s the anxious sort even without the threat of her master remaining lost in a painting forevermore; these are tics and habits built up over years, developed by a young lady possessed by her panic.
These are the little things Lachesis takes note of, ruby eyes sharp as she records every little bit of body language, every tell to every feeling, any possibility that she may not be telling the whole truth. It is important to know these things when you step into a job like this, especially when she is asking something so great of two people of somewhat significant renown– any little thing could be a trap. But oh, this little mouse is an open book. Lachesis thinks she might drop dead if she tried to tell a lie.
“A-Ah, w-well, Mister Goethe usually likes s-surreal subject matter,” the mouse stammers, looking to Raoul with her big, pitiful eyes. “S-Since Miss Goethe d-d-died, he’s… he’s been painting a lot drearier things. Veering into the macabre more… I-It’s normal for artists, but…! It m-might mean there’s some creepy stuff in there…!”
“Oh, I’m sure we can handle it just fine,” Lachesis says, waving her hand in the air, rather insouciant about the whole ordeal. “You needn’t stress about a thing.”
“I-I–” the young lady bites her lip, clearly hesitant, but something about Raoul’s reassurances seem to soothe her– the offer of water, the coin, the promise, each one ironing out the tension accumulating in her shoulders. She gives a short, fretful nod to him before swallowing, clutching that strange coin close to her chest. “A-Alright– um… I trust you. H-Here, th-this way…”
Her footsteps are a little more even as she leads them both over to the painting in question, gently tapping the gilded frame as she stands beside it. It’s a swirl of dreary colors, murky blues and greys and streaks of white, threads of what may be red, the subject matter impossible to see, now.
“This is it,” she says. “H-He hasn’t… titled it yet, but. It should still have the enchantment– i-if you just press y-your hand against the painted part, y-you should go right in. J-Just be careful…!”
Lachesis gives the girl another smile, a half-reassurance, before stepping forward, pressing her palm against the surface of the painting– it’s smooth, strangely so, with the give of the surface of water. She presses a little harder, her fingers dipping past paint and frame until a dull silvery light engulfs her, and the world around her becomes as murky and dark as the background of the painting on the outside had been.
Interesting.
“Well, here we are,” she croons. “Now, where is that pesky little painter…?”
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Post by Raoul O. Ardelean on Sept 4, 2023 19:10:39 GMT -5
Raoul feels bad for the girl since she seems to be so nervous he offers a small reassuring smile at her before saying, “Don’t worry my dear we’ll have your master here faster than you can see My name is Raoul Orel Ardelean”.
Raoul looks over the girl. There's no way that this girl seems suspicious, he thinks but perhaps there’s an unseen angel to this entire situation that he can't see yet.
“Maybe the girl accidentally pushed him in, maybe her innocence is an act and she did this? Or Maybe this painter guy is a huge bastard and is hurting her”, he thinks.
Any of these options Raoul especially thinks that his assistant would be capable of maliciousness but as an investigator, he has to prepare himself for these types of crazy twists and reveals. He’s seen the same type of mousy innocent person play the deranged unsuspected killer before a handful of times.
Raoul nods, “Yes well from what I’ve seen of his work as we’ve walked inside he’s a talented painter I can see why you’re training under such a skilled artist”.
Raoul walks behind the three as he takes a moment to observe his surroundings, “The man’s odd, to say the least”, he says as he ducks under a self-portrait hanging on the wall before the next room where the painting is.
Javal waits for Lachesis to go through before bowing at the young girl and tipping his hat at her, “We’ll be back in a bit please drink some water”.
He presses his hand on the painting and falls into a different world as he gets sucked in he gets a slight headache that disappears as he enters the new world.
He hears Lachesis and says, “Yeah we’re here now let’s get this painter's fellow back quickly” and turns around to scan their new environment.
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Post by Lachesis Calyptra on Sept 10, 2023 1:00:29 GMT -5
To call the painted world dreary would be one hell of an understatement.
It’s the same murky mass of colors on the interior that it was on the exterior; deep, cool-toned greys and dark, desaturated blues, little wisps of white and red flashing through the backdrop in a way that hardly lightens the place up at all. There is no visible source of light, no sun, no stars, no moon, no buildings, no lampposts, nothing– only a vast emptiness, illuminated only by some vague, unknowable light source. It lacks any traces of nature, of an orthodox world; it’s merely vast and blank and warped, a twisted world of acrylics, and…
Really, it’s so dreadfully dull. This Goethe has no sense of aestheticism whatsoever.
“Well,” Lachesis begins, humming in discontentment as she glances around, her brow furrowed as she scans the area for any sign of where to start looking. “It’s difficult to say where the man may be hiding. This place is desolate.”
She contemplatively brushes her teeth over her bottom lip as she looks around, careful not to let any pigment leave a stain against her canines, her brow furrowed just so as she searches for any trace of… anything. For this painter to get lost in his own painting, there’s certainly somewhere for him to get lost in; it cannot be as simple as an endless, spiraling mass of poor color choice. There must be a subject somewhere, and it’s merely a matter of finding it.
Lachesis beckons for Raoul to follow her as she starts walking, searching for any sign of something that may be off about this painted world– when she sees, in the distance, something off: a little dip in the ground, a disturbance in the otherwise orderly chaos of colors. She blinks, approaching it steadily, but warily–
Only to find a… staircase, built into the ground, going down, down, and down.
Hm.
“...Well,” she says. “I suppose this is our only way along. Shall we?”
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Post by Raoul O. Ardelean on Sept 12, 2023 2:27:49 GMT -5
Raoul was both simultaneously excited and disappointed as he looked around the area, noticing its dim and totally readable tone.
“Well, this Goethe guy sure has one sense of style, huh? I wouldn’t mind buying a painting from him if this is anything to take away from this unfortunate situation”, he says with a sarcastic tone.
“You’re right dear lady it appears that this fellow isn’t going to make this easier on us is he? All I see is black and dreary here black and dreary there, oh I think I spotted something else, wait no it’s more black and dready”, he chuckled softly trying to keep himself amused.
He was already starting to dislike the color pattern on this thing the more time he spent looking around it. Raoul takes off his brown coat jacket and throws it over his shoulder not wanting to get it wet, it was a present from him after all.
He increases his speed as he sees Lachesis beckons here and searches behind here before stopping at a specific rock that looks like an elderly woman’s head. He was about to call Lachesis over to look at it before he heard her mentioning finding something. He walks over to her and his eyes widen slightly in surprise at the sight of a staircase that leads down.
“Huh let’s hope this place looks nice from the inside”, and he walks slowly down the stairs trying to be careful not to fall as once he starts walking down the stairs alongside Lachesis.
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