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Post by Huginn & Muninn on Feb 14, 2019 23:27:46 GMT -8
Huginn shook his head
<<Missing out on a real opportunity, Chrys, but it’s your call. But I can understand the appeal to the legendary status. Muninn and I both seek such greatness before the end of time. Perhaps the legendary status of the Whills is what keeps most people at bay. For us, it’s the intrigue of it all.>>
He flew down and landed near her, hopping around her and bobbing his head up and down.
<<Who is your soul? It’s the puzzle we, my brother and I, seek to find. We discovered the soul of one Whill once, though it was by mistake and also, only one of two that we were ever able to communicate with. Nevertheless a triumph.>>
His black eyes peered into her own eyes for far too long.
<<Perhaps it is the fear that keeps others away.>>
He flew back to a nearby branch and hopped along its length.
<<Conversing with such powerful beings can be dangerous to the unprepared. The golden glow, the stars that shine around your form, the sheathed Hammer of the Ba’n, all compound into a fearsome form. A single slip of the tongue can result in the end of time for anyone unlucky enough to fall into the trap.
Or is that the hope? That this garden will suffice as a sticky surface to capture your prey so that you may feast upon their flesh? Who knows with you beings. Who are you? What are you? Besides deities of magnificence, might, and mystery?
What is your purpose? What is mine? Are we human or are we dancer?>>
He fell backward off the branch and landed in the soft grass with a soft “Pluffft.”
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Post by Whill Shaman Chrysanthe on Feb 18, 2019 0:16:02 GMT -8
*A slight scowl crossed Chrys's brow as Huginn looked her in the eyes, asking about her "soul." A question she decided to take as rhetorical, her amused expression returning when he quite comically flopped from the branch.*
"I can't really say why people don't come," *she admitted.* "There's all sorts of reasons. I don't really have the taste for flesh, though..." *Glancing around the gardens, she added,* "Can't say the same about some of these, but I make sure there are warning labels. But you're right, if I wanted to..."
*With a snap of her fingers, the ground began to rumble as large roots creaked forth from the ground beneath the threshold, interweaving and sealing it shut.* "It'd be easy to keep anyone here. If I wanted to. But I know that wouldn't keep either of you here, anyway." *Lowering her hand, the roots withdrew into the soil from whence they came, the entryway showing no signs of being any worse for wear from the ordeal.*
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Aug 16, 2021 14:42:21 GMT -8
The next room Shakk entered set her back a touch. It was lovely. Eyes thinning she muttered -Shakk- "I'm gonna sit here a spell...." And she did
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Aug 16, 2021 15:23:10 GMT -8
Peaceful.... She had a thousand words to describe the feelings she felt in this place. Scratching her head she realized.... She hadn't. What? The demons many had left her be in this place. No fear. No anger. No.... Digging she stood. Setting her banner in a dark corner marking her presence but wishing for it not to disturb The Tale of The Twi'leck Three AN LUCHT SIUIL DHIUBH
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Dragus
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In front of the Empire, to all you Vader haters out there. We'll blow your planet up.
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Post by Dragus on Apr 10, 2022 5:46:10 GMT -8
 Entering the gardens was a troupe of a dozen ewoks, singing songs and frolicking in the lush vegetation of Chrysanthe's domain. Some carried baskets, others musical instruments, replete with a stormtrooper helmet drum set. They laughed and they played, basking in the radiant glow of the sun. Some were fat and others were skinny. Some had dark fur, others had light. A few were girls, most were boys. All wore hoods, as was tradition amongst such a noble race of sentient bear folk. Several among their number began to unroll a large red and white checkered blanket across the grass. Baskets overladen with delicious morsels of the most scrumptious variety were set down and soon a smorgasbord of delectable grub was spread out for their dining pleasure. A 'pop' sounded as a chestnut furred bear with a girthsome belly opened a bottle of fermented mattberry juice. They munched upon boarwolf sandwiches and chewed merrily upon still warm blumfruit muffins.The peaceful bear folk seemed right at home in the natural beauty of the tiniest whill's home. Nearby in the tall grass, a creature of black scale and sharp claw watched with slavering jaws and eyes the colour of blood. Oozing ropes of drool ran down the beast's chin, soiling the ground around its talon tipped toes. A long muscular tail protruding from its backside swished behind it, excited by the tasty sight before it. Wisps of steam blew from the nostril slits on its snout, souring the air with the rancid stench of rotting meat. A forked tongue flicked from between a wide maw of curved incisors, misting the air with crimson flecks from the creature's bleeding black gums. Saurian lids narrowed as it spotted its prey, its razor edged claws carving furrows in the soil as the primal predatory instincts of this malevolent monster prepared it to pounce. With a hissing snarl the freakish barabel leapt from the green foliage and raced towards the assembled gathering of ewoks. Gentle eyes turned towards the disturbance, growing wide with fear as the seconds seemed to slow and the devilish draconian was on them. The lunging lizard leapt upon the fattest of the bears, spinning and rolling across the blanket while the others screeched in fright. As the whirling dervish of scale and fur came to a stop, the sound of deep full bodied laughter replaced the cries of concern. The black scaled barabel wasn't attacking or feasting upon the chubby little wok...he was tickling him.Oh, thank the Force. It was only Dragus. Grinning in his toothsome way, the duke of debauchery ceased his playful teasing of the corpulent bear and settled down to join the gathering of his most favourite race. He sat cross-legged, bouncing the girthsome ewok on his lap as the others poured him a cup of juice and passed him a muffin."Tell me if you've heard thiz one." Rasped the reptilian in his ridiculous way. "Grand Moff Tarkin and Darth Vader walk into a cantina on the Death Ssstar. A wookiee iz ssserving drinkz at the bar. Darth Vader sayz, I thought wookieez weren't allowed in the cantina. Grand Moff Tarkin then turnz to Darth Vader and sayz, that'z no wookiee, that'z my wife! Siss Siss Siss!"When the laughter died down, most having originated from the saurian himself as the joke wasn't really that funny, the scaly Sith produced a ruby red meltmassif flute and began to play a pleasant tune.♪♫♪ ♪♫♪ ♪♪ ♪♫♪ ♪♫♪ ♪♪ ♫♪♫ ♪♪ ♪ |
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