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pixie as a thank-you sticker for orders!

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in addition to likes there should be a "noble&true" option to react with when the post is agreeable & wise

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*doing your tarot reading*

oh. two of worms. it means worms are coming to your house.. interpret that how you will..

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fgo verse shit under the cut, this will be nonsensical if you don't know that terminology.

Alter Ego: Legion / Riley Cross:Sitri / Riley Cross

By dint of her future self's ministrations - a mighty Goetic prince - Ms. Cross, an accountant in Philadelphia, has been chosen as the Pseudo-Servant vessel for both that future self and of the demon she consumed/will consume - the previous prince, Sitri. She is thusly technically three devils, qualifying her for the title of Legion: in this way she is many. The Phantom Spirit of the biblical Legion is an afterthought.

Living Human / Human / Humanoid / Demonic / Female / Beloved / Obstacle Maker / King / Man

Passive: Riding A- Mixed Blood B+ Independent M----------- D We Don't Get Fooled Again (Immune to pigification)

Active:

Robbing Peter, Paying Paul - Choose one ally. Drain up to 30% NP meter from other allies and give it to them. If given the full 60%, additionally grant them NP damage up, grant drained allies I.O.U. Status (gain 10% meter over 3 turns), and lower own debuff resistance and defense. I.O.U. cannot affect self. (Hardly Abrahamic, this skill is more a sublimation of a devil's ability to make deals and the broader 'trickster' quality. At its strongest, this skill can temporarily remove an aspect of a Heroic Spirit's identity and give it to another.)

End of the Spider's Web (Heir) - Apply Demonic to all allies. Lower their skill cooldown, 2T. Apply Delayed NP Drain to targeted enemy. (The talent to spin schemes within schemes and build the house of cards, poised to bring it down. Essential for a Goetic Prince, learned via hard knocks by the future Riley and inherited in rote by her current self. It's perhaps just as likely that Alter Ego is simply skilled at improvisation and keeping face.)

Wisdom of Crisis (Kitchen Sink) - Chance to apply Terror, Confusion, Skill Seal, NP Seal, Stun, Attack Down, Crit Down. (A history of unexpected assailants and desperate escapes has taught Alter Ego that there is no trick too dirty, no blow too low, in the quest for survival. Venial curses, begging and pleading, Geneva Suggestion level conglomerates of holy water and salt and silver, anything to throw the opponent off guard.)

NP: A Matrix Malus. ST / Arts / 7 hit. High ST damage. Damage increases with every Demonic ally. After damage, apply Negate Class Defensive Bonus on target (5t). If done in succession, upgrade debuff to apply Pan-Class Vulnerability and refresh its duration. (An ally betrays you. A trusted tool fails. A weakness is revealed, or at its strongest created. A technique to subvert, undercut, and sabotage, as only a devil can.)

As it was. As it will be. As it always is. I'm very sorry, but this has been over for a long time. A Matrix Malus.

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"You, me, a bottle of whiskey, and a good book to talk to each other about. Yes, or no?"

@affectionate-remedy

"Unfortunately, medication means I can't quite partake," which was technically technically true but more a preference than anything. Riley hadn't really been reading for pleasure, lately - she leaned more towards understanding mythology and things-that-bump-in-the-night, just in case they turned out to be real. Having some modicum of knowledge made it easier to not freeze up. Anyway: "I could get some nice apple juice 'n' it's like you'll never know the difference. What's the book?"

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@triggerwhore [x]

“ dinner? you askin’ me on a date, or tryin’ to butter me up before tellin’ me you’ve eaten another fuckin’ exorcist? ” rebecca squints, suspicious as hell, but there’s a twitch at the corner of her mouth. not a full smile—yet. she kicks her legs off the workbench, wipes some grime off her palm, and eyes riley like she’s half ready to shoot down the idea (but not seriously), half ready to say yes just to see what happens. honestly? she had time. doubt her bro was gonna hit her line—and if he did, it’d be for somethin’ stupid.. maine and dorio was wherever they thought was nice for two edgerunners to go on an anniversary at in a city that's anything but romantic. so no eddies were going to be coming in today.

"Can't I spoil my favorite terror without being reminded of my born-in damnation?"

She doesn't indulge in the tit-for-tat, tempting though it may be to indulge in pettiness. (Exorcisms don't work when you own the body; besides, people survive getting eaten by her. Enjoy it, even.) Instead, she flutters her eyelashes, mock-coquettish, at the career criminal opposite. With the at-home enchantment complete and its payment hot in her pocket, Riley could just go home... but where's the fun in that?

"It's what passes for a beautiful night 'n' if I spend much more'a it cooped up, I might go nuts. Sure, we can call it a date, but if we do, I happen t'know you've got some cute outfits in your closet. I'm not sayin' dress up all the way just for lil' ol' me, but if you don't wear those things, the cybermoths're gonna get 'em."

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Shit. She isn't gonna get it. This one was too hard, it's gonna be awkward as shit. Nobody thinks like you, jacka-

Until she gets it. The smile on Riley's face is beatific. There will be no need to run damage control, to build back this drunk-and-thusly-possibly-emotionally-fragile woman's confidence. God bless.

"That's right. It was daytime." She raises her glass (orange juice, straight) in a cheers. Took some doing, but the war is done. The woman's too drunk to comfortably attempt to move in on, but she can at least build the bases. "That's my trial done. You can stare all y'like." She flutters her eyelashes, coquettish, at the redhead. “If that’s all you’d like to do.”

Riley has her full attention (for one reason or another, but she IS paying attention), despite the Phoenix's inebriation- she's got a hand on her chin, brows furrowed, turning every gear in that birdbrain of hers and racking around for an answer. A trick, not a riddle, a trick, not a riddle...

"Heading home... empty road, no light, all black, no headlights... but still sees you... moonshine- no, no moonlight! Uhhh... how can he see you in all black..."

Gladyss does in fact start to go glassy eyed as she's lost between her thoughts, her brain encouraging her to drink more, and drinking in more of her new friend's features- but Riley's comment reaches her. Still mumbling aloud of course- but everything focuses in: she drinks whenever she likes. The car sees her, there's no moonlight, but she's in all black. No other lights... but even on new moons there was still just the dimmest of lights-

... no moon. Any time. No moon anytime-

Her answer doesn't sound half as confident- "... the sun. He sees you because the sun is up...?"

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None of this is right. A thinking, feeling thing shouldn't have been left in this... state. There's something wrong in its eyes, and Riley can't tell what it's borne from. It's the kind of eyes that... don't even have the heart to scream.

She tenses, ever so slightly. If it needs to be hidden, then there's something around that's worse. Something that put it in this state. "From?" Stupid, shouldn't have asked. The thing's in no shape for an extended conversation. It's clearly delirious -- . Look, either way, the thing can't stay here. "My house isn't too far from here. If you think you can stand, I can do most'a the work."

the water feels like the first drops of rain in a desert, taking the edge off of pyrrha's intense thirst enough for her to get a better look at the person holding her. she blinks up at riley, the emptiness in her eyes apparent. she attempts to get out a 'thank you,' but her voice is still weak, and all she can do is hope that a tired blink can express her gratitude.

she is still took weak to move, but is becoming more aware of her surroundings. the mountain, the trees, riley - it is all better than where she was before, but she is still afraid. afraid the witch will find her, afraid the monsters will take her away again. the end of her tail twitches ever so slightly, her eyes flicking to the horizon as if expecting enemies to appear.

" can.... can you... hide me ? "

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yeets a pepsi at Riley

"Ow!"

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Jeez. That was not -- what Riley was expecting at all. The gut instinct was that she needed to find a new bakery, but that was unfair. This was a field she was out of her depth in utterly -- she talked to her doctor exactly enough to get antidepressants, nothing more. Any discussion of the secret world with a medical professional would, she imagined, get her ranked as insane, too. She wore the poker face as Addie explained.

It's not... impossible. There were psychics who could see the history of an object with provenance, but extrapolating that out to people and the maybe future? Didn't go so well. Maybe it was a chemical reaction -- some quirk of the brain that produced incorrect garbage output from otherwise ordinary input. Or maybe, though it was less kind, Addie is legitimately unwell. That... wasn't impossible. But for now, at least:

"I think so. You see things, and some folks trigger it. Including me, unfortunately. I wonder why." (She had a pretty good guess.) "I believe you, 'course. Can't fake that." That being the whole fainting. "They don't tend to reoccur in succession, right? I can hang out if you think you're gonna be shaky."

Her mouth pressed into a flat grimace very reminiscent of an internet cat meme. It might help to open up to someone, right? Maybe? And Riley was nice—so nice. A friend, possibly. And lying to friends felt icky. “It’s… more like a doctors tend to think I’m clinically insane thing.” And winding up stuck in an involuntary hospital stay wasn’t the most conducive to running a successful business. “I think–” She wet her lips. Her fingers toyed with the silly ruffled hem of her apron. “I think it’s a- uh… a spiritual affliction? Not a medical one.”

And suddenly she was sucking in a deep breath to open some floodgates of Biblical proportions: “Sometimes I get these episodes where I see things? Like things that are going to happen? It happens mostly when I’m sleeping, but once in a while I get them when I’m awake—that’s what just happened—and it’s always pretty scary doomsday kinda stuff. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I got, like, happy nice visions! But it’s always rahhh fire destruction end of the world kablam!” Said with much waving of hands for emphasis and maybe a little bit of hyperventilating. “It’s worse around some people. I think because some people are, um, weird? You make it worse. Not that you’re weird! Or—well, you are but not in a bad way! Different! It’s fine! Me, too!”

Addie bent forward and flopped onto the counter. Cheek squished against the formica, she groaned. “Did any of that make sense?”

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multi-muse iconless rp blog. horror/paranormal/urban fantasy based. private and selective. i don't tag triggers - follow at your own risk. minors dni. rules. links. drabbles. canon. primary muses docs: Alex. Adelaide. Gilles. Sitri. Zepar. Michael.

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Has been as unsocial as she can muster for the past week, owing to the poison oak over half her damn body.

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"Yup." Most of it looped, about five feet loose, she hands it over. It's one of the few times Riley is willing, if begrudgingly, to open the wallet — fancy rope of this quality was about a hundred. Considering the whole ordeal was treating a repeat partner specially as a little treat, and the dangers of being a repeat partner, she’ll tolerate it. But if she’s doing it, makes sense to go all the way. “It’s this fancy silk and nano fiber stuff. Don’t understand it all but the silk is — Silk, but it’s got the higher tensile strength so it won’t snap or leave tracks. Some people act like they kinda want to have rope burns to remember it by. But… they don’t.”

With most of the rope in Aqua’s hand, Riley slow and tentatively slips a simple knot around her wrist. “See? The braids aren’t hard enough to hurt if you pulled them but it’s fine to have against the skin.”

Riley's deflection does well to earn a pointed glare from the Keyblade master, but her silence becomes less and less annoyed when she thinks it over.

❝ ...A mannequin can't tell you if you tied the rope too tight... or if it has a cramp. I don't even think there's mannequins flexible enough to reach behind themselves in realistic ways. ❞ Let alone arabesque, and -- well, maybe Aqua shouldn't be thinking about what a dance position would look like strung up.

After a moment or two of bashful hesitation, she holds her palm out. ❝ Can I... maybe... feel the rope? ❞

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[txt]: girl help I was supposed to be at a roast and then they all started playing instruments and now I think it’s just a jam sesh

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Fuck, she's so cute. Does she know? Is she doing this with intent? Aqua acts like a girl from a fairy tale, sometimes -- if not a bodice ripper. It's a surprise she isn't chewing on a lip. "Ah, y'got me. I was just tryin' to rile you up." A half-life, a smile. De-escalation. But then, as if it had only then occurred to her -- "I'd certainly prefer t'do it with someone I'm comfortable with. It'd be fun!"

"Th'rope's nice 'n' soft, 'n' if you need to get out 'n' can't wait for me to untie it, you're definitely more'n' capable of doin' that warp thing. It's good to broaden your horizons." Damnable ethics chew at the edge of her mind, so Riley, if only by obligation, adds, "but if you don't want me to, don't be pressured into it. 'M a big girl, can handle it. Find a mannequin or somethin'. We can do whatever."

❝ I suppose I am. ❞ Suppose? She obviously is. And normally that's not something Aqua is particularly modest about -- But Riley's unrelenting gaze is making her misspeak.

❝ N-No I haven't! Not... like that anyway. Obviously... ❞ she presses her knuckles into her bottom lip, fluttering her lashes with a turned head -- not that she could hide how many glances of Riley she keeps stealing.

❝ Wh... you don't really mean that do you, Riley? I mean, if you really think you need the practice, I'm always an advocate for keeping skills in tip-top shape. It's like they say, practice makes perfect and all that... and of course I wouldn't want you to have an accident with someone doing something so delicate-- ❞

She's rambling.

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Riley's hungry. So sue her.

[txt]: Mario Kart... getting stale? [txt]: Address is 834 Chestnut, 5-E. Text me when you're here, I'll buzz you in. [txt]: This is the Huda menu. Let me know what you want, on me.

She thought their relationship was way more professional than this. Then again, with the way they gave each other their respective phone numbers at the end of one of their appointments. . .

[text] . . .so it's just a regular meet-cute, then? Got'cha.

. . .she could afford to push the envelope.

[text] If you'll send me the address, I can be over there in a bit.

[text] I'll bring my switch, too. I've got some games if Mario Kart gets stale.