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PH * * * Post b4 combat

“It’s honestly no big deal,” Ciela said with a small laugh, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. “I help because I know how it feels being away from family and proper food. After a while, field rations start tasting like cardboard with a side of regret. A good homecooked meal now and then? Changes everything.” She reached into her inventory and pulled out one of her signature parchment-lined baby pink tins, the sweet scent of baked goods immediately wafting through the air. “Here,” she offered with a smile. “I always pack extra. It's become habit, really. You’re welcome to some.

The coughing subsided and allowed Mari a moment of reprieve. She had moments like this every so often in prison, but it had never been this bad. Mari tried to find rhyme or reason behind her fits - the now very clear attempts of whatever decrepit form of gemini lie within her to escape. But there was no logic behind it. They came during peace, during happy moments, they came when she was tired and stressed, when she was focused… as though there were no meticulous plan, and that it would just periodically knock on that proverbial door to burst free. It just so happens to be happening more

PH <<Assisting System Engaged>> Level: 1 Paragon: 0 Tier: 1 True Tier: 1 Final Exp Reward: +55% Mokka | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 1 | BLD: 12

Ciela smiled warmly at Kiyabu’s gesture, gently tucking the flower behind her ear. Its soft scent drifted past her nose, mingling with the summer air of the field they’d just cleared. The soft pink bloom contrasted against her fiery red hair perfectly. “It’s beautiful,” she said sincerely, “Thank you.” Naturally, Dean didn’t miss a beat wanting the three of them to go out for drinks after they wrapped up this quest. Ciela sighed, feigning reluctance. “Fine, you’ve worn me down. But you do realize we can’t get drunk in here, right? We could chug ten drinks and still walk straight as a rule

“Don’t have daughters.” Spoken lightly, the comment slapped him harder than expected, as if the possibility of children had never even occurred to him. When? How?! Thrust aside just as quickly, Freyd felt he’d make a terrible father in any case. “Ahh…I probably fainted because I didn’t eat.” Right. Sure. It couldn’t possibly be the evil goop goblin you have guzzling up your darker impulses like a glutton at an all-you-can eat buffet? Freyd kept quiet, slathering up a wafer with some leftover Hollandaise and ramming it down his gob to keep his trap shut. “I’m like a ch

The girls stomach rumbles early this morning, as she exits the tavern she'd rented a room out of and with reluctance she takes out what little food she still had available and starts to chew through it. Consumes Last Field Ration It would work to make her stomach shut the fuck up at least for a little bit. The long scythe draped across her lap, she sat idle on the fountains rim. The water poured out of the top creating a cascade, trickling in behind her with a constant white noise. The city was a little dull today, not many people inside it. Illi wondered where the heck they all had

Sensing the strain building inside Elora without even having to look at her, Freyd’s hand reached out to cradle hers with surprising tenderness. Slowly scooping a mixture of granular sludge to his lips with his left, his eyes creased at the edges with wear while a calloused thumb ran reassuringly over her far fairer and daintier digits. She trembled even as her frustrations grew at the defensive gambits of a clever bit of sausage. Gentle, like the bliss of a lover’s press, the whorl of his thumb ran around and between the tension in her knuckles, easing with touch what clumsy words woul

Wulfrin smiled at all the familiar faces joining up for an adventure into a slaughterhouse straight out of a slasher film. Freyd presented two options, the first stunning the boss and the second letting Ciela practice tanking a bit. Wulfrin placed his hand to his chin as they walked in deep contemplation. If Freyd's data could be relied on, which Wulfrin did without question mind you, this Butcher could get out of hand fast. As far as Wulfrin knew, Freyd was one of, if not the only, player to take on the field boss of floor 28. "I vote for both," Wulfrin replied as the slaughterhouse drew

Tapping her hands together as she'd enter the small store, the girl cradled a tummy a bit thicker then she'd like it to be. Sluggish from an afternoon lunch with her older sister, she'd move toward the back room and start to put down her stuff in a box allotted to her. Adjusting her clothes, taking a thick leather apron and putting her head through the loop, she ties the strings behind her back in a pair of bunny ears. Rounding the corner back into the main storefront, holding the wall as she wrapped it. On her right, the string of empty and filled bottles and jars. The girl unfurls a tiny not

"Hai!" A cheerful short bow given to his fellow captain's orders, it seemed only fair to show such respect after messing with her. This was their way, and he wouldn't change it for the world. "We'll find this butcher at a slaughterhouse about a mile from Glyndebourne - just far enough to keep the wind from carrying the smell. And gird your stomach's if you're at all squeamish. This place is quite the sight." Last time he visited Freyd defeated the Midnight Ripper, only to find himself what could only be described as a horde of meat golems. Creatures of all shapes and sizes, all had b

- to delete after just fixing journal- "When the world falls through and all is ash again while you all pretend if this is the end... I'll do it again." "i will probably put a really cool quote from Mari here, do yall know any good ones?" ♦MARI [i.] [ii.] [iii.] | -- | ~Waves can't put out my flame, death will never write my name. ~ "Ever on and on I continue Circling with nothing but my hate in a carousel of agony till slowly I forget and my heart starts vanishing and s

"arabelle. tell them to bring it over themself." or: conversations that could have happened. (accepted.)

"ara, is it? this is for you. they said it was an apology." (trading the following.) Terra Firma Scale (T3/Unique/Consumable/Single-Use) | +18 Mitigation. This item can stack with other sources and its effect lasts for one thread. | >> Treant Armor A consumable that when used, applies a layer of bark on a piece of armor/shield. The treant armor adds one slot of mitigation to that piece for one thread. This cant bring the mit above its maximum (3 slots). | [❄] Gold Star Stickers Charges: 2/3 +1 DMG, +1 LD or +15MIT for one thread. Stacks on top of other food/al

buying field rations and t4 immolation potion for 2,200 col.

ph -> CONSUMING: Feast (4/6) (Hirru's feast): +60 MIT. -> CONSUMING: Giant Pumpkin Pie (4/6) (Morningstar's feast): +3 PROBIOTICS. -> note: gonna take extra mass heals from baldur because someone drained bistro :( but waiting on a thread first. it's your favorite magical girl! ♡

purchasing 1 tiger's balm for 3 mats.

Approved

“-except knot tying. That's stuff's just impossible." Mari laughed softly at his remark as she picked up the metal case and put it to the side, she could explain that one later. Somehow, Freyd had always managed to do this, say something innocuous that made her feel better. “Don’t have daughters.” Mari said with a faint smile. “They’ll want all manner of braids. No amount of YouTube videos could ever prepare me for that.” It was bittersweet. Mari rarely got to mention her daughter, and it pained her to…but the memory was sweet. Trying to match a video at 6 am in the morning, only to fail

ph for future use

stats// Lv. 1 | HP: 20 | EN: 20 | DMG: 1 skills// Unhindered inventory// <<Scout Starter Pack Here>>

virtues// hard-working// Lydia has always had her eyes on the prize. Even if her parents hadn't forced her, she would have worked as hard as she could to make her dreams come true. It was never a challenge to get her to focus on the goal. It was always right in front of her, just out of reach. And she would prefer it stay that way. Nothing is worse than an artist with nothing to strive for. insightful// Working in the industry, Lydia had to develop a sixth sense for those who wanted to get over on her. Or get her under them. She's usually able figure out what someone's about with a s

A smile slid across his face, and somewhere deeply he was filled with regrets. "Mia fiamma.. No man made prison can hold me. This remains true" He'd lean toward her and pinch the part of his cigarette that stuck in his mouth. "But I am afraid that I may be trapped in a prison I will want to be in, mi amore. And it terrifies me." He'd turn that smoke around and place it in her mouth, breaching her personal bubble "I am enraptured, captured. enthralled. by you. seducente" Rubbing his face as he fights with his own decision, trying to let a cooler head prevail. "That fire, passion. Its addicting,

Watching and listening as Mari played show and tell like they were in arms dealer kindergarten, Freyd measured his responses by opening and closing cupboards he knew would be empty. Returning to the fire’s edge with a smattering of mismatched second hand dishes, he laid them out between them. The wasp thing just sounded unnecessarily complex. Wouldn’t a smoke bomb or modest irritant do the same trick? Why bother with the insects? Maybe it played against some subtle coding technicality that enabled it to avoid categorization as an environmental effect, and bypassed the over-relied up

The man was clearly hesitant, Mari couldn’t blame him. She had accidentally encroached too far into his personal space. Too curious for her own good. What would Freyd call it? Heh Obsessive. “Mmm…..” A noise of thought. She had already apologized, and had calmed down enough from the previous encounter. The field was covered in debris. In smashed vegetables, and the two fiery Pkers were covered in dirt. She accepted the bottle, and took three long drawn out gulps from it. Hoping to get that pleasant buzz back. She paused when she felt his fingers brush against her skin- pulling a strand of