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ValidEmotions

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  1. @jJedi_Master_1 you can gather for food, farm it in the coliseum by defeating enemies, or buy from the Auction House when you get food items, you have to visit your hoard and convert them into food points. Then you can feed your dragons from your lair.
  2. Jorath "Lojaal--" Warmth entered his neck and cheeks at the reveal of Lojaal's dedication and sentiments. "I'll thank her as soon as I see her next," Jorath remarked. He knew Vaz's quills occasionally asked after him; the scribe had informed him of such in the past. But an outright, crafted gift? 'Humbled' seemed understated, as did 'flattered'. It made his skin pleasantly warm and the back of his head tickle enjoyably. Though, curiosity wormed through his thoughts about the quill's form of communication. Illustrations, in all aspects physical and mental. Question was: was it by choice or because she couldn't write? "'Whispers of'..." he started, murmuring the beginnings of the Commonspeak translation for her name. "She doesn't speak often. But, when she does, you need to listen carefully or else you'll miss what she says...." After a moment, Jorath shook his head and limply waved a hand. Something to mull over later, perhaps. Unless there wasn't a point to it. This was one of Vaz's quills; there was always a reason, even if it wasn't a clear one. Their hand was playing with his hair, eventually growing still. "Sure, longer words can be fun. Maybe a secondary title then? Do authors do that? Title 'a' on the cover, title 'b' on the inside?" They snorted about the antlers then. Jorath grinned brighter. As he listened, he again found himself watching their features. He tracked the happy wrinkling around their eyes and the tilt to their head. It was his turn to snicker, nodding brief agreement about the 'half-horn' enthusiasts. Granted, he'd almost been one for a little span of time before crossing paths with Vaz. "Hey, maybe there's some merritt to the half-horn label," he said, lifting a hand slightly to tap a knuckle against the couch's back. "I mean, we're on a half-couch thing. I didn't know these existed before now." Vaz continued on, this time presenting their own theory outside of the typical considerations of Pride Demons. His skin began to crawl along his spine. Divergence and fates. Torn mindsets. Vaz admitted that they always had a way of digging out truths. Jorath just hadn't realized how much they might have been watching and picking up on. He'd stiffened. He only noticed when Vaz was touching his hand. Their gaze found his and he felt the absence of his earlier smile. "I asked. You answered," was all he said, the words barely dropping from his lip. Jorath blinked. Attempting the ghost of a smirk, he started to say something. Vaz's mouth against his palm, however, was far more disruptive than he expected it to be. Heat flooded his cheeks. They asked him questions after the gesture, fingers twined together, but words--even coherent thought--bailed on him for the immediate moment. Coughing once and clearing his throat, Jorath inhaled, mustering up a response. Something, anything. "Oh, uh... humans have a lot of expressions and gestures for emotions, even for the same emotion. That is--" He lightly rubbed a finger tip against his jaw as if itching, gaze drifting to the couch's back and the slot that allowed wings accomodation. "That is a good gesture; mild but effective at expressing a few things. "And... Y-You speak wonderful Sahthlua..." There was a lump solidifying in his throat. Uncomfortable, not uneasy though. Inhaling deeply, a little wavering, he briefly registered their clasped hands against his chest before he carefully sat up. Legs shifted to drape off the couch as he turned so his side was towards Vaz. Blue eyes stared at the ground. Finally, "You're looking at Jay's eyes. Not Jorath's. Everything you see, right now, is the human; not the demon." He frowned. Fingers curled into the seat cushion. For a heartbeat, he thought about Er'anir having control of Illstrund again. About her incantations. Seemingly in response, pressure began to build against his temples, weight growing upon his head while broken chains rattled from his sprouting horns. "There's a risk you'll find out," he began. "Maybe it's best you learn from me than from her." If Vaz could see hidden things within a being's eyes.... The skin just behind his ears began to itch and sting, splitting as dark bone started to protrude into sight. The bone curved back and downward like a pair of 's's, the points ceasing before they could touch his shoulders. Though he didn't have a mirror before him, he knew from previous examinations that his pupils had dilated. Black consumed the blue of his irises. Within his chest, he could feel the well of rage heaving, like waves in a storm crashing against a cliffside in hopes of drenching the land. Jorath couldn't bring himself to look at Vaz, wrestling internally to keep himself steady, no matter that his initial intent had been to let them see and learn.
  3. Argia She really was growing to dislike how flighty Dynasty seemed to be about all things. Shooting an arched eyebrow in Xaal's direction, Argia murmured beneath her breath. "He's very... abrupt. Isn't he?" She winced as a dress was shoved into Xaal's arms as if she weren't more than a rack to hang things upon. Taking it from the guardian when it was passed over, Argia hummed thoughtfully in response to Xaal's commentary. "I'll take your word for it about the matching." And the colors were lovely. Plus, there weren't any wasps in its design. Following Xaal's suggesting gaze to the fitting rooms, Argia did have to admit that trying on the dress wouldn't cause any harm. Dynasty was next to her again, holding out a pendant and jerking her attention away from the fitting room. "Oh," was all she could say, the necklace finding its way into her hands. As soon as Dynasty began answering Xaal's question and it became clear that he had no intention of it being in good faith, Argia frowned. Stepping away, she strode over to the fitting room, placing the curtain between herself and the rest of the shop. Changing clothes, she did enjoy the feeling of the dress, though the capelet was a strange thing to be wearing. Something to get used to, perhaps? Despite being a little loose in the shoulders (a matter easy enough to fix with slight adjustments), Argia did consider the dress as an option to pursue. Especially with the addition of the necklace. Lifelines glided into the shop, new voices reaching her ears a few moments after. A beat, and then she realized she recognized who was speaking. The woman who Taathiir had been speaking to just before the Fallen Collector left to find Vaz and Jorath. The woman had also come to their assigned lounge earlier. Lucy was her name, right? Silently, Argia edged the curtain aside enough for her to peak into the shop. She watched for a few seconds before eventually coming out of the fitting room so that Xaal didn't have to deal with everyone on her own. "We're the esteemed guests?" she questioned, stopping next to Xaal and studying Lucy's companions before focusing on the woman leading them. "Why are we so special?" Between the rescue from Takut's lair, the hospitality and financial gift, plus the dinner invite now, Argia couldn't fathom whatever potential reason for such efforts on Auris Domniir's part. Was this all connected to Taathiir wishing to speak with Vaz and Jorath about the two joining the organization? Something was clearly at play and, frustratingly, Argia wasn't versed enough with this world to understand what. Jorath It seemed conversation of more touchy subjects was dying down and Jorath let it do so without further prodding. Best not to linger on such things, anyway. His thoughts zeroed in on the matter of Lojaal. "Not capable of writing?" he asked, following Vaz out of the bathroom. Catching a glimpse of their expression towards the TV, he smirked. They'd found something wrong about the documentary. "She was drawing on your hand earlier, right? Back in the subway station." A quill that didn't write seemed... counter to its purpose. Didn't it? "Does she project words into your thoughts, like the others?" While Vaz ambled towards the couch designed to accommodate feathered wings, Jorath worked off his new waistcoat to hang it upon the coat rack. He undid the single buttons at the cuff of his sleeves, idly rolling the ends out of habit. He caught himself just before he pulled up on the fabric near his elbow. Embarrassed, he began rolling the sleeves back down, fingers raking through his hair a moment after before traveling to his neck. Vaz's question pulled his attention back to them. A shrug, designed more to roll off the prickle in his nerves. "It--It's fine. I'll go. It's a good opportunity to see who we're actually dealing with." Though he felt Vaz's gaze scrutinizing him, he looked elsewhere in the hope that he could pretend they weren't. "I mean, it'll just be a small group after all." They suggested that he get rest in turn, shifting where they had chosen to recline so as to grab a thick pillow and coax him to join. Vaz's mention of shrinking in height caused him to falter, thoughts returning to the change of his hair in the dressing room before. It bumped against the memory of Vaz, so many decades ago, as someone else entirely for one of their meetings. Of Er'anir changing. Right; several demons could shapeshift. A hesitant snort graced his lip. "You're just saying that because you wish you were taller than me." Automatic. Don't let them see the discomfort. You're just tired, Jay; imagining things. Obeying Vaz's beckoning, he took a seat beside them, initially contemplating how he should move next. Unaccustomed, Jorath felt stiff and awkward as he readjusted to lay down. His head did find the pillow though, so he could consider that some form of accomplishment. He gave Vaz's running book title an honest thought, humming faintly. "How about 'What Your Horns Say About You and Your Domain'?" He swept a hand across the air, as if pretending to smooth out a banner. "A bit shorter and uses smaller words." Talking idly sounded much more appealing than being made to fall asleep. He didn't even know how to approach answering Vaz's question about their presence being helpful. Bringing his hand up to brush at his eyes, he wanted to inwardly grumble about Vaz's assessment. Amusement touched the corner of his mouth, despite it. He could rest his eyes without falling asleep and just pay attention with his other senses. "I would enjoy hearing about your book. I'm curious what your theories are about antlered horns, especially. Obviously not biased, of course." He grinned, winking at Vaz.
  4. Going to the dragon's profile page; there's a button on the left of the dragon with three dots in a < shape. You can copy the url link or the "widget" link that has BBCode preconstructed for a clickable image.
  5. Another Update View Announcement Here We have a heavy word to share with users today.
  6. Update! The Spring Festival begins! View the announcement here
  7. Hello there @Wolfie1249 Thanks for reaching out to me via PM. I remember Undertale being a rather fun game ^^ So it's interesting to see an RP for it here. While you have a decent start, you will need to develop the thread a lot more for the Approval Process to see this accepted into the Other Section. You can read this thread to help you understand more of what's needed. Some things to consider as you expand/develop the thread: not everyone is familiar with Undertale, so you'll want to provide information to help new members understand and become familiar with the material enough to roleplay. You'll want to expand upon the setting/history of the world this thread takes place in, the kinds of creatures that can be found here, any level of technology, etc. A developed plot is also required for this thread--something formed enough to provide an idea and starting point for members to know what's happening, a bit of what's likely to happen, and spring forward into motion from there. Now, a thing to note: you don't have to go through the Approval Process and don't have to put your thread in the Other Section. If you're far more interested in starting right off the bat with your thread as is, then you'll want to move this to the Freeform Section where there are fewer standards/requirements of how your thread should be set up. To move your thread into the Freeform Section, you'll need to PM a Moderator (such as Dragonhatchling) and provide a link to your thread with the request to move it. (I unfortunately only have the ability to move RP threads into the Other or DC Section.) Let me know what you wish to do I'm more than happy to help you through the Approval Process and nudging you in the developing/expanding of your thread. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the options you have and can choose from.
  8. Appreciate the time and effort for the new dragons but... this is very overwhelming. I'm someone who's not very keen for complicated mechanics to obtain alt versions and I don't typically remember to breed or care for breeding. Wish there were fewer alts all at once and, perhaps, some more regular new releases to balance it all out. This is just too much and I really don't know where to begin on all this beyond the jungle Floret. The description of the alt Sapphire hatchlings are uh.... throwing me off lol. Those are definitely not blue-green in color. (I noticed the same mismatch for the description with the eggs.)
  9. ⇢ Log In....... ⇠ ⇢ Isaias ;; Anubis ;; Non-combat ⇠ ⇢ She ;; He ;; They ⇠ ⇢ Condition ;; Okay ⇠ ⇢ Distortion World ;; Junction Garden > Stables ⇠ ⇢ Update ;; Possible Threat & an Annoying Chihuahua ⇠ Well, that was fantastic.... He stared at the commotion, eyes half-lidded as Isaias contemplated squeezing them shut and rubbing at his face from exasperation. This was what he had been on about--the likelihood of someone getting violent out of panic or confusion because of the clear lack in explanations. Having no interest in getting caught up in the stirring conflict, Isaias shot Add a brief glare at his recent commentary before shifting a less sharp gaze towards Basil once more. "You ever thought of throwing Edge Boy back through one of those tears?" he asked, mild tone caught between the ease of humor and the stiffness of serious contemplation. They nearly sighed, heel of their palm lifting to press into their eyebrow as they stepped away from the clustered mess of bodies to remain at a safe distance. There was little reason to try parsing out who was in the right or the wrong. Not with first impressions being as screwed up as they were. 'Working together' nearly always had nice sentiments tied to it. But Isaias wasn't ignorant to its being used by nasty people for nasty agendas, either. No matter how earnestly the girl spoke, he was going to wait and determine the others' intentions first. "What do you think of it, Anubis?" Isaias inquired. "You have that dog sense, right? Think you can pick out who is or isn't safe to trust?" Silence. Rolling their eyes, Isaias glanced down at their bag. "Oh for--" He swore beneath his breath. "Are you going to sulk, of all things?" He waited and, as a few seconds passed, his brow furrowed. "Anubis?" There was always a response of some kind from their bag. That there wasn't any now provoked Isaias into pulling away the flap and searching the interior. They shifted their belongings aside, ignored the open and half-eaten granola bar, and even pulled out a couple books and a journal for a better view. No Anubis. Isaias swore again, a single word punctuating the air with their frustration. Shoving the books back into their bag, their gaze darted about the garden. You little brat; where'd you g--Spotting movement among some of the flower bushes, Isaias waited for the small jackal-headed being to pop into view before they started after him. "Anubis!" Isaias hissed, causing the little God to jerk and glance back before he started sprinting. Despite being only 8 inches tall, Anubis was faster than expected to anyone unprepared for it. Isaias wasn't unprepared but, as he transitioned to run on all fours instead of just two feet, they still had to scramble after him. Especially considering he already had a decent head start. The moment Isaias broke past the garden's bit of territory, he caught sight of what Anubis was running towards. "What the f*** are you doing, Anubis?" "There are gods here! I want to find out who!" he called back, barely glancing over his shoulder. "Couldn't you have just," Isaias started, words ground from both irritation and running, "told me next time instead of running off?" Anubis stuck his tongue out at them before looking forward again and proceeding to leave their question unanswered. They decided not to consider the various ideas of a god being in a horse stable; they weren't certain they wanted to deal with another animal-shaped god. But, given that Anubis didn't know who it was, chances of it being another Egyptian god seemed very slim. "I hope you know, Anubis, that you're a major pain in the--ah!" Isaias stumbled to an abrupt halt, crashing into the side of the door frame that entered the stables as he shouted and reeled back. Grabbing the frame for support, he stared at what was very clearly a sea creature, eyes wide and uncertain of how to absorb what he was seeing. Beyond the creature, when their gaze finally started moving, was some gem-like object. Isaias would have thought it a statue if not for the fact that it was moving. "Wha--" "Ha! Found you!" Anubis shouted, crawling over one of the stall doors to stand atop the wooden frame and sidle over towards a--Isaias didn't know how to describe the small being. It looked like a weird skeleton with a cloak hiding its body so that only the skull could be seen. Anubis was grinning, head tilted and pointed ears shifting with his curiosity. "Though, I don't know what you are." Obviously, he had little to no interest in anyone else as he focused on the cloaked thing. His nose twitched. "So, what kind of god are you?" Isaias hissed, gaze darting between the other occupants of the stables. "Anubis," he ground, letting the syllables of his name get drawn out on a low tone. [Art credit to Eremina] ⇢ Log In....... ⇠ ⇢ Ori ;; Sein ;; Glowing ⇠ ⇢ Condition ;; Okay ⇠ ⇢ Distortion World ;; Library ⇠ ⇢ Update ;; Not Nibel... ⇠ Ori's ears shot up. Sein dipped and lifted abruptly. The brown-haired being could speak their language! They must really be Spirit Guardians, too, after all. <"Hello! Yes!"> Sein sang, starting to bob and weave about with relief and excitement. Before their celebration could last too long, however, the cat-like being switched from something peaceful to a more aggressive and loud state. Ori made a small, startled, sound and scurried back a few steps, ducking behind a shelf incase the feline began attacking. Sein's glow intensified. Aerith--as the brown-haired being introduced herself to be--was hurrying to try and soothe the situation. <"Oh, this is no good,"> Sein began to lament. <"Are we truly not in Nibel any more? This cannot be."> Edging back into sight, Ori's ears flattened against their head, a trill of concern emitting from their muzzle. At the very least, it appeared like the large feline wasn't about to attack anyone despite her anger. <"We must return to Nibel; the Spirit Tree needs us or else the land will die,"> Sein continued, floating closer towards Aerith in their growing anxiousness. As the sphere spoke, Ori caught movement in the corner of their dark eye, prompting them to glance over. Some sort of blob of darkness was waving at them. Perking, Ori tilted their head, tail flicking once then twice. It was doing something with its... hands? Ori made a soft sound, the pitch rising in inquiry. They followed the blob's pointing, spying the equally dark being in yellow fabric. A Gumon? But, that couldn't be. All the Gumon had perished when the Element of Wind was corrupted by darkness. Well, all except Gumo himself. Ori's ears lifted with the sparking thought that another of Gumo's kind did, in fact, survive and had simply been misplaced much like Ori and Sein now seemed to be. Though, Ori wasn't certain about the tiny blob's identity. Cooing happily, almost chirping, Ori let Sein continue in the conversation with Aerith and the feline while they scampered towards the tiny blob and the Gumon. They reached a hand out to the blob, not certain how else to great the creature, and waved with the other hand at the yellow-shirted Gumon. The being seemed to turn back behind the shelf, tucking out of sight. Curious, Ori's head titled and their ears swiveled forward. They sniffed at the air. Maybe this Gumon was afraid and had started giving into the darkness much like Gumo had until Ori's actions of kindness gradually convinced Gumo to reconsider. If that was so, Ori needed to do something before this Gumon was completely lost to hopelessness. They called out gently to the Gumon, creeping a step forward. And then another. Then another, until they could see the Gumon around the shelf. Slowly, they stretched their arms towards the being and made small motions with their hands inward to their chest, repeating the beckoning gesture. Maybe they could coax the Gumon to come out from hiding.
  10. Jorath For awhile, he was silent, processing Vaz's words and feeling each shake, each twitch, that occurred as they spoke. "If you think of a new idea to try, will you let me know?" During his silence, the demon had started to shift away from Jorath, their hands lifting off his back. He hadn't noticed the circling until after it ceased, leaving behind some sort of sensation. Could muscles hum? Jorath didn't know enough about that, just that it wasn't a horrible feeling. "It calls you such to mock you, doesn't it?" he went on, quickly silencing the stirred thought of the overgrown eagle and its words. "I'm not going to ever call you by that name, you do know that right? As long as you want to be known as Vaz, that's your name as I know it." Vaz's hands were still hovering. Jorath was starting to realize why. They always hovered when the scribe wasn't certain about touching him, didn't they? He nearly snorted at himself, wondering how he never fully noticed that factor until now. But that was what allowed him to be okay with the contact. The asking for permission. At this point, however, Jorath didn't know if he should reassure them or actually step out of the bathroom finally. Awkward was the word for what nagged at him. Scowling very faintly, Jorath shook his head. "Doesn't matter what I've been through; it's not a competition. Your pains are just as real as mine." His arms eventually started to fall away from Vaz's shoulders, hands trailing to find their elbows. "It's okay if you can't remember all that happened. Maybe it's for the best?" Gaze drifting to the bathroom doorway, his shoulders hunched slightly. After some silence, "Sometimes she's still there. Other times, I find it difficult to tell if it's her or just my own thoughts." He tried to shrug it off, shifting a shoulder almost lazily. Releasing Vaz at last, Jorath edged a step in preparation to give them space to leave the bathroom. "Resting would be good. And, no, I don't have any intentions to return to the plaza--I think I've had more than enough exposure to others for the night. I'll just chill on the couch or something while you rest." A pause. "You think Lojaal can tell Xaal and Argia about that dinner invite?" --- Argia She stumbled a step as Dynasty grabbed her by the wrists and started pulling too quickly. With no choice but to follow him, Argia glanced back to find Xaal trailing after. Deposited before an assortment of exploratory clothing, she regained her balance and shifted her gaze from the clothing to Dynasty then back again. Naturally, there were more wasps in these designs and she nearly frowned. A jewelry piece she could accept, but she didn't think she wanted to have wasps on her clothes. Still, the designs were lovely for what they were. At the specific bonus mention of pockets, Argia had to wonder if the man had overheard her commentary just as they'd stepped into the shop earlier. Letting her fingers brush through the fabrics, she glanced to Xaal to find out if the woman was already answering Dynasty's question or if she was meant to go first. The Guardian was responding, it seemed, so she waited patiently. Once the other woman had finished, Argia hummed softly. "I reap the souls of mortals who have reached the end of their lifelines and protect from untimely ends those who haven't." She wasn't quite sure how else to answer the question about 'powers' brought. Would explaining lifelines be expected as part of that? Xaal mentioned her realm but, though she had come to learn that she possessed a realm herself, Argia didn't know how to speak about hers. She didn't even know what her realm was. She bit back a sigh. "I don't know what my realm is; I'm only just learning about several things in this world. Before coming to this world, I didn't have a realm." At least, she didn't think she had. But something so intrinsically connected to the immortal beings here wouldn't just pop into existence, would it? Now she frowned. "And I only just discovered that I can sense other beings' rage; I couldn't do that before." Since Xaal already asked her question, Argia held back from asking one of her own until after Dynasty had the chance at another.
  11. Considering that single-sex is only a thing for V-Day and Holidays, I highly highly doubt this. It's most likely he didn't influence one to become a male or there's a different kind of dimorphism than the basic male vs female we expected.
  12. Update! A new discovery has been made! View the announcement here.
  13. Just adding because your remark made me recall: Not every member is a native English speaker. There are many English-as-second-language speakers/writers who might still be learning English and thus are unfamiliar with all of English's nuances. In this regard, it becomes an important, vital, matter of accessibility. (Adding further: least of all, not to mention those who might struggle with understanding nuances in general or might have other obstacles to contend with in understanding such a vague set of rules that aren't even announcing themselves as rules.) You very clearly have users that have experienced otherwise.
  14. "Off-site" is explicitly stated. But the confusion rests in the fact that links to the DC forums and groups on someone's scroll are not "off-site". In fact, they are very much "on-site" because they are Dragon Cave links. If people are receiving warnings and/or bans for posting on-site links in their trades, then this needs to be made explicitly clear. Because people are otherwise getting into trouble for doing what appears to be allowed. It seems very counter to me that there is even resistance or "what do you expect us to do about it?" when members are saying they want more clarified and easy-to-access rules or explanations. People want to stay in compliance with the rules but it's difficult to stay in compliance when those very rules are vague AND/OR don't mention something that players are getting into trouble for that would otherwise seem very common-sense (like being allowed to post on-site links).
  15. ⇢ Log In....... ⇠ ⇢ Isaias ;; Anubis ;; Non-combat ⇠ ⇢ She ;; He ;; They ⇠ ⇢ Condition ;; Okay ⇠ ⇢ Distortion World ;; Junction Garden ⇠ ⇢ Update ;; Possible Threat? ⇠ "You're really not good at this. Are you?" Isaias muttered, eyes rolling. Louder, so that he knew that Add could hear, he said, "I'm not about to blindly trust that you'll be taking any of us somewhere we'll find answers." They gestured with their hands, arms sweeping outward slightly to emphasize what should have been an obvious, common sense, thing. They didn't hide the bewildered contempt in their expression. "It's not a 'high horse', dumba**. It's f***ing caution and self-preservation. You know? 'Don't get into the stranger's van, kids, even if they have candy!' That warning?" Gaze drifting to Basil, Isaias continued to frown. "It's a lot easier to teach the lesson first and then take questions either as you go or at the end," he explained. "A lot of the time, questions get answered through the lesson before they're ever asked. Some don't even know what questions they want or need to ask until they know more of what they're dealing with." Isaias shrugged. "Plus, it's just easier not having to try and organize some 200 simultaneous questions when you can use a method that whittles it all down to maybe five or whatever." An ugly, derisive snort escaped Isaias. "If you--How are--" Stifling the rest of their snickering, Isaias started over, waving a hand almost emphatically as they shook their head. "Who the f*** are you to determine who is and isn't 'innocent'? Innocent of what? What kind of moral high ground do you get to stand on to determine our worth? How should any of us know if your intentions align with anyone else's here?" He was starting to bristle. Thrown through some crack to land at the feet of this pompous, edgelord, child. They humphed at the fact of being scanned within a moment, their gaze shifting to the machines that floated and started emitting purple light. They still couldn't be sure of the kind of threat such things posed. Their gaze narrowed as Add and Basil started whispering between themselves. Whatever the discussion was, it was brief as Basil returned focus to the group of newcomers. "Well, no s***. I could have told you that, at least on my p--" The girl beside her finally seemed to catch up to what Anubis had said. She heard him say that? Isaias growled under-breath, turning a glare towards Anubis. The little God gave a sheepish grin, ears falling back and eyes shutting as a timid chuckle carried to their ear. "Whoops?" he replied. "This is why you don't say s*** like this around humans, Anubis!" Isaias hissed at the being. Shouting nearly drowned out their voice, though they weren't exactly broadcasting their frustrations with Anubis for everyone else to hear. While Add and Basil scrambled to calm the crowd, Isaias repositioned their shoulder bag, opening the main section and holding it for Anubis to see. They pointed to the interior. "Bag. Now. Before you do anything else to stir up more panic." "What? No! I'm a God! You can't put me on a time out!" Anubis protested, leaping when Isaias's hand shot up to grab him. They were quick to correct, catching him before he could attempt to dive for the grassy terrain and shoving him into the bag. "Disrespectful human!" Anubis barked out. They were pretty certain it should have been a roar that echoed throughout the world but, coming from an 8-inch body, it didn't do more than sound like an angry chihuahua. Isaias shut the bag and turned around to locate Basil among the group of those panicking about being dead. They weren't certain how to process the information that one walking person actually was dead or that another was on a direct course to death. Isaias glanced at the dead white-haired girl, frowning. Returning his attention to Basil, he crossed his arms before his chest. "Why don't we just jump back through that space tear? Wouldn't that send us straight home since it's what dumped us here in the first place?" [Art credit to Eremina] ⇢ Log In....... ⇠ ⇢ Ori ;; Sein ;; Glowing ⇠ ⇢ Condition ;; Okay ⇠ ⇢ Distortion World ;; Library ⇠ ⇢ Update ;; Not Nibel... ⇠ They were tumbling through the air amidst a bright flash. On instinct, Ori twisted and leapt mid-air, aimlessly launching themself at the closest surface they could grab. Books trembled slightly from the impact when they hit a shelf. With a soft grunt, Ori quickly propelled themself to the top of the shelf; hooves clacking upon the wood, ears pricked and eyes taking in the foreign room. They'd seen books before, but not to this sheer quantity, and never in a room of their own. There was noise nearby and they darted across a few shelves towards the wall. In the next breath, they dropped to the ground and hunkered down. Their tail lashed. Sein was silent, providing no information about their whereabouts, even as their pulsing glow signaled their readiness for an attack. <"Ori..."> they eventually chimed, hovering just before their quivering nose. <"I hear voices but I don't understand what they're saying."> Ori nodded. Likewise, they could tell individuals were speaking, but they had no idea what language was being used. Nothing smelled particularly dangerous. Or, well, at least nothing smelled like the creatures of Nibel that had given up and were swallowed by darkness. Dust washed into their nostrils and they sneezed, the action resulting in more dust blooming into the air. Shaking their head, and raising their swiveling ears ever slightly, Ori started to crawl forward. Carefully, they scampered between shelves, trying to stay as hidden as possible for a glowing spirit of light. Each chance that they got, Ori studied what they could of the larger beings. At first, they were certain that neither were another Spirit Guardian nor a creature of Nibel. However, one of them started glowing and then so did the other. Ori stopped moving, head lifted and ears erect. Maybe they were Spirit Guardians? No one else could glow without having some connection to the Spirit Tree as far as Ori understood. When the glowing ceased, Ori's nose twitched again, detecting the cool and soothing scent that now clung to both figures. Certain that these two must be other children of the Spirit Tree now, Ori made a soft coo at the pair, rising off their hands and edging a few steps forward. Sein darted above Ori, the pulse of their glow slowed with curiosity. <"Do you speak the language of Nibel? We do not understand, otherwise,"> Sein inquired. ⇢ Log In....... ⇠ ⇢ Dr. Ivo Robotnik ;; "Eggman" ;; Badnik Active ⇠ ⇢ Condition ;; Healthy ⇠ ⇢ Distortion World ;; Kitchen ⇠ ⇢ Update ;; Just need a fork ⇠ Nagito, such a good and obedient agent, set straight to work as Robotnik had instructed. In the middle of the boy's answer, Robotnik turned and startled at the sudden voice. A shriek emitted from the man, lasting exactly a second. Clamping his mouth shut, Robotnik stared at the oddly-clad woman. Slowly, a smile began forming and a glint entered his gaze. It brightened further with the pure burst of excitement as the individual's arm morphed into a sword of sorts, designed with a plasma laser as its blade. "Oh ho-ho-hohoheheheee!" Robotnik clasped his hands together, fingers knitting, while laughter peeled from his mouth. Jumping and shaking his arms out, Robotnik started to circle about the android, even as Nagito addressed her questions. "Absolutely.... Fascinating! Advanced technology! Yes, of course! We shall happily exchange information," he finally said. Coming to a stop and clicking his heels together once, he waved idly at Nagito. "A decent start, Agent Nagito! But yes, I will take it from here, thank you." His hands clasped together behind his back, mindful of the control buttons in his gloves. "The Junction. Yes, you've found yourself in the Distortion World, one dimension out of countless thousands in the multiverse; we organics like to refer to this little facility as The Junction." He started circling her again, continuing to explain. "We're a group of individuals who have been displaced from our original worlds and universes, our original dimensions. I came here when I attempted to warp off a mushroom planet and return to Earth. There are anomalies happening all throughout the multiverse; if you didn't warp here on your own, then you were very likely caught in one such anomaly. Fortunate for you--" he went on, briefly stroking one side of his bushed mustache. "You've found yourself here, with me: the genius Dr. Ivo Robotnik!" He bowed, swinging his arm out in a rather exaggerated manner before straightening again. "Among some other, inferior, beings such as Agent Nagito here. But, don't blame them for such misfortune--it can't be helped." "Besides being in my presence, you also have the fortune of this being a rather glitch-free environ! You'll want to be wary of such dastardly creatures; you won't survive one without Basil's curious immunity to the things. These glitches have, for reasons unknown as of yet, have begun to infect several worlds and dimensions. Or, at least, we believe they've only just started. We're not certain of their origins just yet or how long they've been rampaging about!" Robotnik tilted his head upward, studying the ceiling as he sorted out what else might be of import for the immediate moment to fulfill the android's request. "Ah! If you are of the mind to get back home, we can definitely help you with that, though it will require a little time as we determine where exactly you came from and how to get you back. The last thing we want is to accidentally warp you to the right planet but wrong dimension. The collision of having two versions of the same individual in one place would not necessarily be a terrible thing--you'd just have two in one place and I suppose that would certainly help with taking care of To-Do lists either twice as fast or twice as long! Unless you're the type of being to assume that any duplicate is a threat or some such and--ah--" Oh dear. He was rambling. Losing focus. He clapped his hands together once, holding them before his face and slowly rotating his wrists so that his fingers eventually pointed at the android. Robotnik grinned. "Moving on! I have introduced us and provided some necessary preliminary information. Do you have a designation, my fine machine friend?" On another thought, Robotnik pressed a control button in his left glove, the orange glow of his Omni-Tool beginning to activate covering his arm. "And do you mind if I run a quick scan for your UNI code to identify your reality of origin?"
  16. The site appears to be down for everyone. I'll alert when it's back up. Hopefully the downtime won't be too long and I can find out an answer as to why. EDIT: the site is back up.
  17. Jorath Watching Vaz as they gripped the sink, Jorath tried to keep the ache out of his features. He nodded once when they mentioned the water. "She's always felt like ice since the beginning, like I could never get warm enough or--" he said, gesturing with his hand at the end as he tried finding the best way to describe the sensation. "Or like I'm constantly drowning, with how her aura washes into my senses." He caught their gaze in the reflection of the mirror for a moment before turning to see the side of their face. A low rumble would have risen from his throat for the anger of Er'anir getting into their head if not for the strangled sound of a sob coming from them and the pressure around his lower back. Instead, Jorath's own arms came up to wrap about their shoulders, minding their injured wing. "Vaz..." he started, a sigh drifting at the tail-end of their name. "I'm sorry about the chains. If I'd known...." He wouldn't have restrained himself when fighting against Brizran; he would have reached for--Trying to mimic the gentle nudge Vaz had done earlier before they were brought to Auris Domniir, Jorath rested his head against the side of theirs, hoping it would be reassurance. Celestial energy from their horn seemed to buzz near his ear. "I have it on very good authority that you're not filth. You're not failure-ridden. Remember, I f***ed up a good number of our jobs because of some spontaneous decision I made without your consult." Jorath fell silent. The question of was he happy was... a difficult one, perhaps. An old, long ignored, ache started to rise in his chest. "There was a time when she wasn't an old crone and I--" He struggled to swallow down the lump forming in his throat. "I thought I was happy. Seemed that way until--" He sighed again and pulled away only slightly so he could shake his head and glance at Vaz's face. "A-Anyways, demons the world over have a tendency to make others miserable, and more often on purpose." This time, Jorath shrugged one shoulder before gently extracting himself from their hold just enough to nudge their chin for a proper look at them. "Er'anir is not right; she can't make me happy again. She's wrong about you being foolish or a failure." There was a pause and Jorath wondered if it was because he wanted to make sure his next words weren't en route for a collision on his tongue. "I don't feel misery because of something you've done. At least, I don't recall a time when you did something that intentionally made me miserable just for the sake of it. Pulling quills out of my back? A necessary, physical kind of misery, and temporary. Making sure you're protected from harm? Doesn't leave me miserable unless I've done a s*** of a job; that's more on my doing than on anything you did. More often, I find myself amused or--or content, by our interactions." Had he not noticed that before? Truly noticed and understood? The smile at his features was melancholy, unable to twitch his lip high enough to reach his torn gaze before it faded. "You can't listen to her. You have to blot her out. Er'anir wins if she stays in your head over a long period of time. When that happens--" Jorath's nose and brow wrinkled, twisted by an old despair he hadn't quite forgotten. "It becomes very difficult to make her leave you alone completely." He remembered Vaz's earlier mention of a voice in their head. Despite the risks of the proximity to their horns and the energy within them, Jorath rested his forehead against Vaz's. A frown broke through his expression. "That mental voice of yours.... Is it teaming up with Er'anir's against you?" A beat, perhaps long enough for Vaz to provide a 'yes' or 'no'. Then, "What stops it? Keeps it quiet so it can't hurt you? Is there a way I can help if you can't silence it on your own?"
  18. Jorath 'Lady of Judgement'. Right. He'd almost forgotten about that entire situation. "Do you think we go to far, duping this Order into thinking we're somehow the answers to their prayers? I mean, even Argia feels uncertain about the whole "Lady of the Just" affair, or whatever the title is." Jorath twined his fingers together to mime the connection of their tethers and bridged Realms, trying to indicate where he was getting the emotional insight from. "Did she say anything to you about it earlier in the day?" Following Vaz into another section of the store, he listened to Vaz's theory about his Realm. Hiding back a wince, Jorath made a small sound. "Well, that exists, it's just not the only area there is." He rubbed at his neck idly, gaze drifting elsewhere. He hadn't noticed Vaz was staring, only returning his attention to them when he heard them mumble an apology for something. "Oh, sure, that makes sense," Jorath replied as Commonspeak was recommended to be the first language he learned to read. There was... one language that he wanted to learn most but he had brushed that desire off as near impossible a long time ago. Vaz couldn't teach him something they didn't know. Taking the book they offered him in exchange for the one he'd found, he semi-idly fiddled with the item, letting the pages flip back and forth gently as his eyes drifted over the unknown letterforms. A snicker broke past his lips. "I can hedge a guess, but I'm not sure I'm familiar with what 'light reading' is supposed to be. But yes," Jorath said. "Light reading is fine with me." As Vaz sputtered with budding contempt at the quote they read, his snickering evolved into a short snort-laugh. "Laughs are good but I can always pick something else if you want me to? I just--" He cut himself off with an aimless gesture, a hum starting to voice itself. "I don't know. There's something about the book that caught my attention. A gamble? Maybe?" Jorath had had similar feelings before, a sort of vague nagging that he couldn't quite tell was possibly prickling at his senses. Eventually, he waved it off. It seemed Vaz had settled on the books they wanted to leave with, taking the lead in heading for the counter and the demon behind it. "What?" Jorath questioned as he noticed the scribe's uncertain glance. They didn't answer him and he glanced over his shoulder briefly, wondering if maybe it was something behind him that caused their hesitation. "Is there something--" Fi interrupted, dancing before his face to direct his attention to a shelf close by. "I think I'm okay with one book," Jorath replied, starting to think that Vaz either wanted them to stall and linger longer in the shop (something they could just openly state and he wouldn't be bothered with doing) or was probably concerned that he was only getting one book while they got several. Still, he humored both Vaz and Fi, following the quill to study the books she pointed him towards. When he had looked a fill he figured was satisfactory to Fi, Jorath gradually returned his attention back towards the counter. Vaz was already in the process of stepping back, their eyes beginning to glow as a distant expression took hold. He nodded once at the clerk. "Yeah, just give them a moment," he reassured. The demon still gave him a wary glance, fingers lightly drumming the counter. The scribe's focus returned and books filled their hands with a wash of summoning flames. Normal. Their remark, however, caused Jorath pause. "Wait, what's wrong with the--Vaz?" Books clattered upon the ground. Hurrying forward to gently rest a hand upon their shoulder, Jorath watched their face for a moment with a wrinkled brow before stooping down to pick up the fallen books. Something wasn't right, Jorath pieced that together. But, prior experience told him there wasn't much he could do except ensure that Vaz stayed safe and unharmed while the Archives pulled at them. He could, if needed to, bring them back to the here-and-now. But Vaz's remark about their quills made him hesitate from doing so. Setting the books upon the counter, he caught the clerk's gaze. "Well?" the demon questioned. Jorath didn't have an answer, simply turning his back to the other demon and stuffing his hands into his pockets to wait for Vaz's return to awareness. The clerk started snapping his fingers eventually, however, and Jorath shot him a more irritated look than he meant to. "No worries, Vaz," he murmured, responding to their apology even though it seemed mostly directed at the clerk. No one else was in the store so it wasn't like they were holding up a line. Once they finished dealing with the ram-horned demon, Jorath started to walk out of the shop with them, offering his arm to hold when back out in the plaza. He frowned. "I think we should head back to the lounge," he said eventually, studying Vaz from the corner of his gaze. "What's wrong with the quills? Is it because of--" Jorath's words died, not sure how he wanted to put into words the sight of Vaz battered and in chains. "Because of earlier?" he finished. Despite holding onto him, Jorath noticed the off-balance stagger beginning to enter Vaz's steps as they worked their way through the plaza. He fished out the map card again, ensuring he wouldn't get lost in Auris Domniir's facilities as he kept Vaz from accidentally bumping into another being. He was more prepared for the subtle shift in the hallway this time, using that as the moment to tuck the map card away so he could free his hand. Only long enough to shift some of the bags from Vaz's to his own grasp. "Is there something I can do to help with your dizziness?" Jorath asked, nudging open the door to the private lounge their group had been given for their stay. Carefully, he set bags upon the coffee table, releasing the steadying hold he'd adopted for Vaz so they could drift to the bathroom. Originally, Jorath planned to stay in the main part of the lounge while they cleaned up in private, taking out his ruined clothes from their bag and pulling the items free of the endless shirt pocket. The clatter of something hitting tiled flooring changed his mind. Startling, he hurried to the bathroom, hand shooting out to catch Vaz's elbow and provide counter-balance. "Easy. It's me." The words were automatic as Jorath dodged a charcoaled wing. He gradually released Vaz's elbow once he was certain their balance was back to normal for, at least, the present moment. Then he bent to pick up the basket of used towels caught in the crossfire, setting it further to the side and out of the way. "Do you... want me to stay in the bathroom?" he asked.
  19. I have approximately 100 eggs left to grab; nearly completed 2012. After that, it's all 2011 and 2010. I might be able to finish in time??? :U
  20. The glitch egg appears to be gone from my side of things.
  21. The url that the glitch egg sends me to ends with /easterget . There is no /easter# associated with it.
  22. Jorath Something was making Vaz hesitate, he could see it in the distant look to their gaze. He just wished he knew what it was and why. Whatever it was, however, seemed to pass by and Vaz returned to more assured mannerisms. And then it was Jorath's turn to feel shy. Again. He gently nudged the floor with his shoe. "The laughs?" Of all things? Briefly, he started wondering when, exactly, he had started laughing around Vaz. He remembered it had been very unexpected, no matter how small it was. Distracted by the switch of focus, Jorath considered his next reply. It wasn't that he wanted to keep Vaz in the dark about his Realm. He just... didn't know what their response might be. And things tended to react differently. Eventually, "It's easy to get lost in my Realm. Not--not in the same way as someone could get lost in yours. At least, I don't think? There's no maze." Jorath shook his head. A moment after, a weary smile crept through his features. Maybe.... Leaving Paradise Found, Jorath had barely started to offer his arm for Vaz before they were already moving to latch onto it as they answered his question. He let them lead the way to the next shop. Along the way, he felt their wing shift against his back, a momentary stiffness entering his shoulders before he registered what it was. Their soft voice barely managed to climb above the din of the plaza to reach his ear as he eased. As if to emphasize, they motioned with a hand between the two of them. "Yes, this is alright," Jorath replied, though he wasn't certain if Vaz was specifically meaning the closeness or the wing contact. Either way, he was fine with both. They approached the bookstore, Vaz detangling themself from his arm so that they could pass through the doorway with ease. Books wriggled faintly upon their shelves and Jorath caught the ram-horned demon's gaze. "They're harmless when it comes to books," he murmured, uncertain if it was unease or irritation in the other's eyes. Maybe just a touch of exasperation. Who knew what kind of demons liked visiting bookstores in a place like Auris Domniir? Ignoring the demon's faint huff in place of a response, Jorath directed his focus onto Vaz as they called him before he could answer the demon's question. He almost made to correct him about the 'partner' label but, being unable to determine for himself where, exactly, the two of them stood, he couldn't get the words to rise up. More books floated into the air, coming to hover and wait for Jorath's attentions. All of the artwork on the front covers was attractive or curious. One might have caught his particular notice, but Fi pointed out a line of others. He could tell that Vaz and Fi were probably enthusiastic about helping pick something out for him to enjoy, but all Jorath started to feel was uncertain. It crept across his shoulders and down his spine at the prospect of trying to navigate the various suggestions. "Wait, hold on," he mumbled out, a little quickly. Settling on something to at least start with, he grabbed one of the books drifting through the air and a second from the nearby shelf that Fi indicated. One only had a blank background of color and intricate font, which Vaz read out the title for him. A story about vampires didn't sound very interesting to him, so he put that one back on the shelf. Jorath also returned the other book back to Vaz's perimeter of floating paperbacks, having found the cover art nice but the summary blurb disinteresting when read aloud. Well, suppose he shouldn't be too picky. It wasn't like he knew what made for good stories or quality writing. His hand landed upon another book that Fi pointed to. As he started to tug the novel off the shelf, his gaze drifted to a spine further on the right. His fingers followed. Gradually, his hand traveled further down on the shelves, gaze landing upon a book at the bottom. Slipping it free of its kindred, Jorath turned the book to study the front cover. His eyes raked across a wash of blue shades that nearly looked like fire or gemstones or ocean waves. Submerged in the background color was the faded impression of an analog clock face, some of the metal numerals off-kilter and broken as cracks covered the glass. White feathers fell in the foreground of the image, even interacting with the font as they obscured parts of letters or were partially obscured in turn. Some of the feathers burned from embers as they fell. 'Forgotten Between Heaven and Hell' was, Vaz informed him, the first book title in some 'Time Immemorial' series. Though it didn't immediately seem like something he might be interested in, Jorath found himself reluctant to put it back upon the shelf. He rubbed the heel of his palm against his temple. "Found anything you want, Vaz?" Jorath asked, a little more idly than he meant to. Slowly standing from the crouched position he hadn't realized he'd stooped into, he held his selection out to the scribe for a second, and final, inspection.
  23. ⇢ Log In....... ⇠ ⇢ Isaias ;; Anubis ;; Non-combat ⇠ ⇢ She ;; He ;; They ⇠ ⇢ Condition ;; Okay ⇠ ⇢ Distortion World ;; Junction Garden ⇠ ⇢ Update ;; Possible Threat? ⇠ No sooner had they asked their question of the two strangers did someone's confused shouting attract Isaias's attention back to the cluster of individuals behind them. They frowned, unable to fully parse what the screaming boy was saying as he spoke too quickly. Something about a thing, the number seven, and what was that about death? It didn't sound like Spanish so Isaias could have been wrong. Anubis tapped their cheek, directing their attention to another cluster of bodies where a shapeshifter was making a display of their abilities. A lot was happening and, as one girl approached Isaias's side to similarly question the two before them, they rubbed a hand over their face and sighed. It would be important to avoid growing overwhelmed here. "I sense death," Anubis whispered in their ear. "I don't know who, what, or where. But I can feel it..." Oh. Perfect. That was a wonderful thought to have with a new and strange place, facing unknown and heavily armored strangers (assuming the worst case scenario that those floating machines were in fact weapons). Isaias gave the small god a sideways glance, strain tugging at the corner of their lip. "Thanks. Because I needed that insight right now." The words hissed, low from their attempt to squeeze between teeth. "You're welcome." He grinned at them, canines peeking out from beneath his lip. "You all came from there." Isaias followed Add's gesture, gaze narrowing in with an uncertain scrunch to their nose as they studied the crack in the... sky. Sounds like an entire Chicken Little plot line. At least Basil provided an idea as to where 'here' was. "So... that's it?" they started, staring at both boys. "We just stand here while you scan us? Then what? How long does your scan take and what, exactly, are you scanning us for?" They heard Anubis mutter 'good questions, good questions' near their ear as their eyes focused on the orange contraption upon Add's arm. Pressing a knuckle against the bridge of their nose, Isaias made a curt sound. "Of course we're confused--" They remembered the screaming boy. "--or freaking out; we apparently just got shoved through some spatial tear. Assuming this is even real and not just some elaborate prank or someone spiking my water bottle with hallucinatory drugs." Folding their arms across their chest, Isaias took another glance back at all the faces in the garden area before returning their gaze to Add and Basil. "Instead of just telling us 'hey, go look around or ask us whatever questions', why don't you boys actually tell us s***? Start from the beginning of the story and explain everything instead of leaving confused, possibly overwhelmed or panicking, people who clearly have an unknown assortment of abilities to stumble about in the dark on their own. And then you can open the floor to whatever questions remain. Hm? Because I guarantee you can cut down the question load significantly if you start with the answers from the get-go and you're a lot less likely to piss people off when you don't make them pull teeth." Were these children really the two in charge of greeting sudden arrivals? Or was it just stupid happenstance? ⇢ Log In....... ⇠ ⇢ Dr. Ivo Robotnik ;; "Eggman" ;; Badnik Active ⇠ ⇢ Condition ;; Healthy ⇠ ⇢ Distortion World ;; Kitchen ⇠ ⇢ Update ;; Just need a fork ⇠ He didn't hear the young man enter the kitchen until Nagito responded. Startling, Robotnik twisted to stare at the other Curator for a moment before he remembered to do something. "Ah, yes!" What was he going to have the boy originally do? Didn't matter now, at any rate, since he'd changed tactics. New things to do. "Find me something with a melting point higher than 1,803 Kelvin--that's 1,530 degrees Celsius or 2,785 degrees Fahrenheit, if you don't understand Kelvin--and that can hold at least one liter of liquid stainless steel. If you can't measure by eye accurately, just assume that bigger is better so long as it doesn't have any leakage from the bottom or sides." Robotnik had taken to rummaging through the remaining cabinets as he instructed Nagito with what he needed. Having provided the specifications of his order, he returned focus to the boy and grabbed Nagito's shoulders to turn him towards the kitchen's exit. "Be quick now; the culinary future of the Junction depends on my crafting the perfect cooking Badnik and it cannot be perfect without the right fork." A pause. "Well, either culinary exploits or a grisly defense system.... What's your vote?" Releasing Nagito to do as instructed, Robotnik grabbed a pot from the cabinets and flipped it in his hands, studying its qualities. Nothing in the kitchen was going to withstand the molten heat he needed to serve as an adequate fork mold. With that insight, he let the pot clatter in the sink as he hurried to catch up with Nagito in the hallway. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's a fork-shaped graphite mold floating around anywhere, would you? Or, perhaps, someone with a laser that can cut through stainless steel? I haven't been able to find the right bits of glass yet to make my own laser cutter, or else I wouldn't be dependent upon the risk of an inferiorly designed tool." What about one of those magic people? Perhaps they might unexpectedly have something of use to him? "You do magic things, Nagito; do you know who would be best suited for shaping liquid steel into forks?"
  24. I don't know if this is the exact same issue?? But I keep having an issue with a previous year's FoE egg. Namely this one that keeps sending me to a /easterget error page but it won't go away. I circled the egg in the screenshot since it's constantly there. However, fortunately, it doesn't seem to hinder my ability to get other FoE eggs.
  25. Jorath He balked at Vaz's correction that they were asking about Dirzarok's gesture. Jorath made a sound, caught somewhere between acknowledgement and sputtering embarrassment for his misunderstanding. Unable to put actual words to his thoughts, he opted to just snort at his own mistake. "Oh, well, that was a form of farewell. More of a friendly type of gesture, though you'll have to ask Dirzarok how much familiarity exactly she wanted to imply with it." Thoughts drifted back to Vaz's statement about informing him when they were uncomfortable with something, their question of him doing the same in turn hanging without much response. The uncertainty of their smile made Jorath suspect they had noticed something. Maybe his reaction at the mirror? Or perhaps it was just more in general? His gaze drifted back to their reflections, thoughts trailing somewhere beyond the store. "There's... a lot, that I'm uncomfortable with, in all honesty," he murmured. Jorath frowned faintly. Turning to Vaz once more, he ran a hand through his hair. "But, yes, I--I'll let you know if I can." When it was revealed that Vaz's wings used to look completely different from even the color they were now, Jorath's brow wrinkled before his features softened with sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said, unable to determine what else to say or do for Vaz's loss. At least they appeared to ease when shifting into fork lessons before addressing the matter of scarves and his antics. Folding Argia's shawl back up, Jorath reached over to rest his hand upon Vaz's head, fingers sliding through their hair. Briefly, he ruffled the lightly colored strands, a bewildered grin to his features. "How is it that you can see and uncover all these truths in the world but yet--" His hand trailed down to gently tuck a lock of hair behind their ear. "You don't see the truth that you're important, too?" Jorath's fingers brushed Vaz's cheek at the end of the motion, bewilderment edging into something more somber. "You're important, Vaz.... Far more than you give yourself credit for." Letting his hand fall away from their cheek, Jorath smiled once more. "I want to spend coin on you." He pretended to look indignant as Vaz suggested he had hit his head at the fountain. "Maybe I'm just interested in making you smile," he replied, tilting his head and winking at Vaz with a slight chuckle. "I meant what I said: you're a lovely sight for sore eyes. A smile is worth every bit of foolishness." He hummed, waiting a beat before answering the scribe's inquiry. "Um, no. I can't do either of those." Gathering his own set of battered clothes, Jorath dumped them into a separate cloth bag. He hesitated, staring at the tote. "I needed to visit my Realm. It, uh--I needed to make sure everything was okay after Er'anir's... failure." Jorath pinched at his nose, attempting a reassuring smile in the next moment. "Fountains are the strongest places for me to set an Anchor and enter my Realm, even if it's just a temporary thing. Think it has to do with all the people making wishes at them." He shrugged a shoulder. Following Vaz, he worked to stifle the smirk toying at his lip as the scribe drifted to the scarves despite their words. He stood to the side as they browsed the accessories, noticing eventually how they drifted towards one scarf in particular. When they showed it to him for his feedback, Jorath reached out to idly feel the fabric and nodded once. He smiled wide. "It suits you. I've saved up a fair bit of winnings over the centuries; just been waiting for something worth spending it on," he said, edging into a reply for their questions. Then he smirked. "I also get a lot of tips, so don't worry about the price of everything." Gently coaxing the scar from their hands before Vaz could opt to put it back on the shelves, Jorath started for the counter. Arachne moved to meet them, leaving her displays. Finally able to see her face, Jorath noticed that her front two eyes were a normal hazel instead of a beady black. "Do you happen to restore clothing, too?" he asked, nudging his chin towards the cloth bags. "Depends on the kind of damage," Arachne replied, gesturing with her hand for the bags to be handed over. Taking a peek inside each, she ran her fingers across the ruined articles. The way her features wrinkled wasn't very reassuring. "Sorry, loves. I can make, mend, and protect against pretty much any type of damage but this? Unfortunately, the damage to these have already settled into the threads. Maybe if I'd gotten to see them sooner, right after the damage was done?" She shook her head slowly. "You'll have to consider these a loss or make them your new junk wear for anything that could ruin other clothes." "Bummer," Jorath sighed, nodding to acknowledge the fact and continue on. As Arachne rang up the purchases for both sets of clothes, shoes, and Vaz's new scarf, the demon also went through a quick rundown of the protections weaved into the fabric. Stains would be non-existent. Tears would mend as long as something wasn't in the way (though Arachne advised against shifting into alternate forms bigger than the outfits as there was only room for a slight stretching and going beyond that limit might result in complete shredding which couldn't repair itself). And the pockets were enchanted for convenience. There were more little secrets of various benefits woven into the clothing but Arachne simply grinned without further explanation of what they were. She just moved onto providing a total price and Jorath brought out his coin pouch to withdraw a palm-sized lump of gold coins. Arachne hummed a note. "Archaic choice, but I can make do with that." She swept the coins closer, taking a count and then pulling a calculator out from within the counter drawer. Jorath watched idly as she keyed away at the device, running a set of calculations and conversions before eventually nodding. "That'll do." Cash register pinging open, she withdrew a couple one-dollar bills and quarters, passing the change over to Jorath for him to stash away. "Thank you for your purchase," Arachne said. "If, for whatever reason, the clothing ends up unsatisfactory or suffering damage that isn't being fixed by the sigils, you're guaranteed a free repair or exchange for it." The glint to her gaze, however, made Jorath suspect that the chances of such dissatisfaction or damage were slim to none. He nodded anyways, voicing his gratitude, and started to drift out of the shop. "Anywhere else you want to go?" he asked Vaz. Jorath had in mind that he would stop at any store where he might be able to find Fi an inkwell but, since he couldn't guarantee one such store existed here, he wanted to know if Vaz had other ideas.