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Blue Rose

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  1. Oni Oh No!

    "May I?" Sam leans over, and with a few taps, magically gets Tona's phone to do what she was trying to do, somehow. "So... it's basically a tabloid?" she skims some headlines. Definitely tabloid. "I kinda hope it isn't legit. People vanishing isn't exactly fun." Today, Sam sports an excessively short pair of denim shorts and the baggiest green sweater, with a big, ruffly collar for no apparent reason. As she goes back to her own seat and downloads the ap on her own phone, and continues browsing. "If I find anything about a laseratops, I know it's a hoax." She sips her coffee.
  2. The Death Song(OOC)

    Yes. Helping. It's not a happy side-effect of Wayward getting some.
  3. The Death Song(OOC)

    What a mysterious antagonistic force. I'm sure it won't come up and be relevant again at any point.
  4. Oni Troubles

    Jay and magic? Sounds like a fun time for Kit. A little thing like PL disparity's never bugged her.
  5. The Death Song(OOC)

    Diplomacy: 1d20+25 34
  6. The Death Song(IC)

    Rough crowd. But Val's dealt with rougher. Granted, 'rougher' usually means 'trying to shove a robot fist through her spleen, but it's amazing how many skills from the field translate to the stage; dodging the beer bottle doesn't even break her flow, and one of the perks of dancing in combat boots? Don't have to worry about broken glass. And the tough? Well, can't worry about him. Gotta trust security to bring him in line. The show, as they say, must go on. But this one, this Rebecca? There's a treat. She may not be able to turn the room, but if she can reach one person, bring one light into this place? That's always worth it. When she looks back, there's an intensity to Val's gaze that takes hold, won't let her go. Last time was an accident. This time? Not a chance. It goes from a song for the crowd to a song for only one, each note diving into that pit, reaching to find that spark, to nurture it. The next song goes on, to an a cappella section, building to a soulful moment of release, and Val puts the mike in front of Rebecca, eyes full of faith. Make me proud, gorgeous.
  7. Active Threads for May 2017

    Wayward The Death Song
  8. Character Edits 2017

    TUNED by GIZMO Wayward Spending 1 PP. 1 PP remaining. Purchasing: Feat: Ultimate Perform: Strings.
  9. The Death Song(IC)

    Before the Show Wayward Tour Bus Dressing Room "...you don't have to call me Ms. Cain," she explains again, more amused than annoyed. "Makes me feel old; call me Valerie." Such a cute thing. So shy, despite her energy, but start getting her out of her shell, and... ...but now probably isn't the time. Not that Val is often one to yield to prudence. The star looks into her mirror. She can't always see Jane out in the rest of the world, but in the mirror, she's plain as day, and as she invites her from mind to body, her own reflection fades, and it's only Jane before her. She lifts her hand to her own cheek, the sensation resonating between souls, more real than real. A kiss, to her knuckle, is as a kiss to Jane's hand. The only way the ghost can know another's touch anymore. She wraps an arm around her hip and simply holds her, for a time. They can never be together. Not really. The distance is uncrossable, but the bond that has grown between them, mind to mind and soul to soul? It would kill them both if she ever got this close to another human. It's nearing her limit, even with a ghost, but this may be as close as she can ever get to another person ever again. But it has to end. It always does. No matter who it is, forever is not a luxury Valerie Cain can ever afford. Gently, she places one hand atop another. Any other day, atop Val's hand, but right now, atop Jane's, given freely to explore as she will, but it's time. As she has for every other tour they've gone through, Jane takes that black silk ribbon and silver padlock, and clips it around Val's neck. It's time. No more words. Just let the music speak. Marianne in hand, it's time for Wayward to take the stage. Present No limits. No barriers. We are the music... There is always a tension in the air as her concerts start. An energy filling the air, that Val can feed on, mold. The hopes, the dreams, the love of the crowd flows into the music, and the music flows back into the crowd, building that same energy, and letting Val shape the crowd. But not today. Any other day, that cord is right. Perfect. Grabs the audience and won't let go. But today? A dissonance fills the air. Rage; not righteous and motivated, but caged and seething, a poisonous hate looking for somewhere to turn, a bitter emptiness desperate to be filled, pain left to fester, hope left to rot, and it all washes over the artist, poisoning the music with a discordant strain while Val suffers to build a wall, to force the madness to stay at bay. Anathema to her way, doomed to fail, and even in the moments it buys, she bleeds of herself into the music, ending her first song drained, instead of empowered. The opener cuts off early, in an eerie, bitter end as she grabs the key and tears the padlock from her neck, casting it into the crowd. Usually a focus of energy, excitement. Today? Of pity. She continues to the next song, hungry to get what she needs from the crowd. She needs that heat, that passion, that hope. She needs one spot of happiness in all of this, and so, she looks to Jane and, full of poison, draws on her, sings to her that final song.
  10. The Death Song(OOC)

    Very important roll: Perform: Strings: 1d20+25 26
  11. Active Threads for March 2017

    KIT Blank Space
  12. Blank Space

    Assessing the magical defenses. Arcane Lore: 1d20+3 20
  13. Blank Space

    That cot is a tempting thought, but business first. "It's... dangerous to think of Mouse as people," she warns, as much to herself as to Tona as they set out for the manor. Sam's hair stands on end before they're even close to the house; that is some serious mojo. "This place... has a ludicrous amount of power. They have the resources, but not the control. Be careful; any defenses they have probably rely on excessive amounts of brute force." As they get closer, Sam's head starts to hurt. Her magical senses have never exactly been crisp, and it all starts blurring together into this general stench that quickly starts giving her a headache that probably won't get any better on its own. She reaches into her purse and pops a couple aspirin; she'll be glad of them before the night's over. "So, wanna walk up to the front door and pretend we're selling cookies?" Sam jokes as she tries to sort through all the muck and figure out the defenses.
  14. Blank Space

    As they walk, Sam realizes she forgot her sweater in the restaurant in her rush. The evening air is biting, but it's better this way; she wraps her arm around Tona and pulls close, letting her be her warmth as she leans her head on her shoulder, barely paying attention to where they're going, just letting Tona lead. "Y'know, we just dashed on the check," she points out, not making any move to slow down. She tries to hold onto the moment, but she can't help but think of the folks in trouble right now. People who did not just crash a perfectly good date night. But she holds on just a little bit longer. "I think we still have some wine back at your place. Maybe we could go back, have some wine, curl up under a blanket, and make fun of a Julia Roberts movie?"
  15. Active Threads for October 2016

    KIT Blank Space Sounds Like a Sequel WAYWARD Elvis Isn't Dead Entrance of the Gladiators