Staunton Bluffs Episode III: Locura y brujería
- ewancummins
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crows
As soon as Tavian is inside, Moorkroft runs about the barn, slamming shut all the doors and windows. ''Someone bar those , if you're able!''
As he is closing the doors, he is shaking his head and blowing between his teeth , as if to shoo away a bothersome insect.
As he is closing the doors, he is shaking his head and blowing between his teeth , as if to shoo away a bothersome insect.
Last edited by ewancummins on Wed Feb 10, 2016 8:27 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
- BigBadQDaddy
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Re: crows
Alain will cautiously try to bar the doors, or at least help since he refuses to let go of the pitchfork.ewancummins wrote:As soon as Tavian is inside, Moorkroft runs about the barn, slamming shut all the doors and windows. ''Someone bar those , if you're able!''
As he is closing the doors, he is shaking his head and blowing between his teeth , as if to shoo away a bothersome insect.
- Le Noir Faineant
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Doesn't work...Nathan of the FoS wrote:
"Wasted," Roland snarls, reaching to pull the needle from Adrian's chest.
The pain will paralyze Adrian where he lies...
While you others close the windows of the stable, Tavian, running at full speed, misses the last step, and plunges into Alain, bringing the man with the pitchfork down...Tavian wrote: "SOMETHING'S COMING!' he yells to the others as he runs back into the room. He pushes past anyone in his way, diving for cover in the back of the room.
And the door swings open, revealing...
The swarm of black birds falling on the nearby crops... And devouring them at an incredible speed.
It seems like if the stable was never their goal or target...
Behind you, the old farmer whinners in pain...
Suddenly, there's a change in the expression of the old farmer.LouisVendredi wrote:"... Whoever is ruling this land, I grow tired of your games. Obviously, you either can't or don't wish to kill us. Just show yourself."
He stops to stops to curse and to clamour, and pushes away everyone trying to calm him.
As he stands up, you can hear his bones creak like dry wood.
Maybe it is dry wood that is holding this patchwork of a body together, you might think...
The farmer's voice suddenly bears a commanding tone, as he directly looks at George's face.
"I am the master of this place, I rule over this lands since I inherited them from my ancestors. I am Henry Arlington, the last of my line."
He pauses a moment, putting his hand to his mouth, as if he had just revealed you something you should not know... But then gets back this unusual self-consciousness.
"Now, good guests, if you forgive me my attack of panic, would you please help me to save my crops from the staarving crows? - We need something to scare the birds away. - Who would help me to put up a scarecrow?"
He looks like if he was expecting a quick answer...
[A basic map of the situation; sorry to bring it in so late. - I hope I missed noone on the map.]
- ewancummins
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he walks between the rows
Jamethon says to Armitage,
"A shame to see filthy scavengers ruin a good crop like that."
He steps back from the strange farmer, turns his head toward Shana, and blinks very rapidly.
"A shame to see filthy scavengers ruin a good crop like that."
He steps back from the strange farmer, turns his head toward Shana, and blinks very rapidly.
Last edited by ewancummins on Wed Feb 10, 2016 7:38 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
- Nathan of the FoS
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OOC: Oh, Roland just wants his needle back. (Although, why is it so painful? It's just a hypodermic needle, and alchemical quintessence isn't particularly dangerous stuff.)Rafael wrote:Doesn't work...Nathan of the FoS wrote:
"Wasted," Roland snarls, reaching to pull the needle from Adrian's chest.
The pain will paralyze Adrian where he lies...
IC: Plucking his needle from Adrian's chest, Roland turns (apparently completely oblivious to the man's suffering) and stares coldly at Henry Arlington. "A scarecrow," he repeats skeptically. "Why don't we just run out there and wave our arms, then?"
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
- LouisVendredi
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George replies to Henry Arlington:
"Sir, I will help build your scarecrow if it will persuade you to put an end to this cycle of illusions and allow us to progress out of this trap we are in."
He the joins the others who are attempting to put a scarecrow together.
"Sir, I will help build your scarecrow if it will persuade you to put an end to this cycle of illusions and allow us to progress out of this trap we are in."
He the joins the others who are attempting to put a scarecrow together.
"Evil things have plans. They have things to do."
-- Anya Jenkins
-- Anya Jenkins
- ewancummins
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Shana
"Shana, would be you so kind as to help me gather some things to make the scarecrow? I think I see some rags over there that would do nicely."
Last edited by ewancummins on Wed Feb 10, 2016 8:27 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
- Le Noir Faineant
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Re: he walks between the rows
The farmer smiles to Moorkroft for the first time, obviously unsure of what to think.ewancummins wrote:''A shame to see filthy scavengers ruin a good crop like that.''
"Yes... A pain... Sooo painful... My precious... Crops. My Crops, I mean..."
The old man waves his hands.ewancummins wrote:
''Shana, would you be so kind as to help me gather some things for making a scarecrow? I think I see some rags over there that will do nicely''.
"No rush, no rush! I have already prepared something for this carnivorous scavengers... Flesh and poison..."
He nods to Roland.
"It might look brutish, but it's the only way."
[Try to breathe with a needle in your chest! That's enough to make me cry! The needle is broken on the point where it enters Adrian's flesh... Ouch!]Nathan of the FoS wrote:
OOC: Oh, Roland just wants his needle back. (Although, why is it so painful? It's just a hypodermic needle, and alchemical quintessence isn't particularly dangerous stuff.)
Nathan of the FoS wrote: IC: Plucking his needle from Adrian's chest, Roland turns (apparently completely oblivious to the man's suffering) and stares coldly at Henry Arlington. "A scarecrow," he repeats skeptically. "Why don't we just run out there and wave our arms, then?"
"Those birds..."
The old man is about to loose his temper again, but obviously gets a grip on himself.
"Those birds eat and attack human flesh when they get near. Try your luck, and you will end up gnawed up from tip to toe, Sir... - And, by the way, I don't like that tone of your voice. What are you doing on my land? - But never mind for now, let's go get the scarecrow."
With that, the old farmer moves to the southwestern door...
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Alain, dazed for a minute on the ground, eventually pushes Tavian off of him. Using the pitchfork for support, he gets off of the ground and begins to dust himself of.
He looks at a few members of the party with somewhat skeptical eyes as he finds a place in the barn where he can place his back againts the wall. There he quietly watches the party prepare the scarecrow, cuatiously watching the farmer.
He looks at a few members of the party with somewhat skeptical eyes as he finds a place in the barn where he can place his back againts the wall. There he quietly watches the party prepare the scarecrow, cuatiously watching the farmer.
- Lord Cyclohexane
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Adrian also watches the others assemble the scarecrow. He's just laying on the floor, noticing the sharp pain each time he breathes in and out, and is strongly considering taking a dagger to cut the needle out. Regardless, he says nothing as breathing is too painful to communicate.
My name is lost to me
I know not who I am
And I await the crimson fires
That'll wash this world away!
- Wolfbait, "In My Lonely Time Of Dying"
I know not who I am
And I await the crimson fires
That'll wash this world away!
- Wolfbait, "In My Lonely Time Of Dying"
- Le Noir Faineant
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The farmer returns from the door, something metallic in his hand, and cowers next to Adrian.Lord Cyclohexane wrote:Adrian also watches the others assemble the scarecrow. He's just laying on the floor, noticing the sharp pain each time he breathes in and out, and is strongly considering taking a dagger to cut the needle out. Regardless, he says nothing as breathing is too painful to communicate.
"My guests, problem is, we need something we can attract the birds with... Something they enjoy coming to... Something to put my poison into..."
[Lord Cyclohexane, please check your PMs. ]
- Nathan of the FoS
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Roland has refused to help with the construction of the scarecrow, and has been watching the old man with an ugly expression on his face; as the old man approaches Adrian he maneuvers behind him and draws his pistol, trying to get a look at what the old man has in his hand.
[b]FEAR JUSTICE.[/b] :elena:
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Adrian watches as the farmer kneels down next to him. Seeing the blood-stained knife, Adrian tries to lift himself from where he lies on his right arm and crawl away, but each tiny movement blinds him as the needle digs into bone and nerve. The farmer stares down at Adrian, saying "Stop wriggling, ya damn worm..."Rafael wrote:The farmer returns from the door, something metallic in his hand, and cowers next to Adrian.
"My guests, problem is, we need something we can attract the birds with... Something they enjoy coming to... Something to put my poison into..."
[Lord Cyclohexane, please check your PMs. ]
Adrian passes out, Avra's laughter ringing in his ears, as he see the knife flash.
My name is lost to me
I know not who I am
And I await the crimson fires
That'll wash this world away!
- Wolfbait, "In My Lonely Time Of Dying"
I know not who I am
And I await the crimson fires
That'll wash this world away!
- Wolfbait, "In My Lonely Time Of Dying"