Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on May 26, 2021 22:28:28 GMT -5
Theodosia stared at Nina in absolute horror, taking an unconscious step back as the woman rounded on her with the dagger in hand. She didn't know much about knives, but she could tell that Nina's thin, needle-like instrument had only one purpose. It wasn't for cutting meat, it wasn't for carving wood, and it certainly wasn't for cutting open chickens to read their entrails (like the knife she herself carried). No, that slender steel blade, still red with blood, was had been built solely for killing people as quickly and efficiently as possible. It was a weapon in its purest form, forged to end lives without a fight. The sight of such a terrible instrument used so skillfully in her friend's hands made the blood in her veins run colder than the icy rain that poured down on them all, and she barely registered Nina's warning about the spores. Eventually, she raised a long sleeve over her mouth and nose, hand trembling within the soaked silks.
She listened, rapt, as Nina spoke. She didn't hear the words so much as the tone of voice, the way the woman spoke. The long, clinical list of diagnoses felt wrong, too mechanical. Surely someone who'd just killed somebody ought to be distraught? She expected stuttering, panic, tears...but all she heard was a long list of gruesome ailments, as though Nina were a surgeon or coroner reading off a list of causes of death. How could she do it? Where had she learned so much about the body and how to destroy it? Clearly, she wasn't just a painter. Something had happened to her, something that had allowed her to drive that terrible blade into someone's spine and not seem to care afterwards. What could do that to a person? What sort of life had Nina led before coming to the island?
When she finally finished and began stepping away from the body, Theodosia hesitated. She wanted to run away, flee from this automaton of a person. Every fiber of her body wanted to run back through the woods to the settlement, to curl up beneath her blankets and try to forget everything. The woman before her was barely human, a killer puppet kept alive by a clock spring, a walking lie. She took a step back, ready to turn and flee...then froze. Wasn't she herself little more than a lie? She'd spilled her secrets to Nina, and the woman had helped her. Hadn't she promised Nina to see this through, to learn the end of the story? Nina, automaton or not, was the only person she'd ever trusted with her secrets. Nina borne their weight without complaint just moments after meeting her. Surely she could do the same? Her only friend, the holder of her secrets, had just saved dozens of people from succumbing to the same awful ailment that had killed Tressor. Could she really turn her back now? Taking a deep breath, Theodosia ran to Nina, grabbing her in a tight embrace and pulling her away from the corpse. Her body shook, and she didn't realize she was crying until she tasted the salt of her tears mixing with the rainwater running down her face.
"Nina," she sobbed, holding the woman closely. "Oh, Nina. What happened to you? Who were you forced to become? You're not an automaton, Nina. You don't have a demon turning a crank in your heart. You're not a murderer. You said he was going to die anyways, you're not a killer. I trust you, Nina. I trust you, and I want you to trust me. You can tell me who you really are, or not, but either way you saved us. You're not a murderer. Not a killer."
The last few words were murmured softly, more to convince herself than for Nina's benefit. She had to believe with all her heart that her friend was a good person, a hero who'd risked her life to protect the others. If not, where did that leave her? If the only person she'd trusted turned out to be a bloodthirsty assassin, what did that mean about her own sense of judgement? No, Nina was a good person. She had to be, for Theodosia's own sake.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on May 28, 2021 15:05:41 GMT -5
‘What were you forced to become?’
The clock ticked. Nina’s chest tensed a few times, as she fought back tears.
Was this how it started? A knife in the dark. The conceit of deciding who lives. Then, twenty years later, you drove a needle under someone’s nail while keeping your victim chained in place with fear alone, and thought that was perfectly reasonable. Was this how Gray had started?
‘Keep your hands on the table.’
It looked like Theodosia just wouldn’t accept that dark path, not at all. Nina was lost for words as the fortune-teller clung to her, and only in part because she had caught Nina’s wonky wrist between them. The assassin’s apprentice could barely breathe, and only partially because her wet, multi-layered scarf was hardly conductive to it. The clock ticked in her ears, the sign that she had pushed herself too far. All she could do was pull her left arm back, make sure that the infected blade was as far as possible from the woman who’d fearlessly (stupidly?) embraced her.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you to look away.” She whispered. Causing trauma, and for what? Because she’d been too drunk on adrenaline to call out a warning. Because everything had happened so fast.
Now, time was slowing back down. She leaned against the other. In Theodosia’s hug, even pain was beginning to fade, starting from the tips of her fingers-
Nina turned her head. In her left hand, she saw a glimmer of the blade that she’d reflexively directed away from Theodosia. It was pointing slightly up. She saw rain trickling alongside it, onto her hand. Onto her scratches.
“Uh-oh.” She mouthed.
She started to shake. Although she tried to hide it, to correct her grasp on the weapon, clinking of teeth could be heard as she spoke with an uncomfortably blank smile.
‘First law of using sharp objects,’ she heard Gray’s voice. ‘Make sure you’re always aware where the sharp edge is, and where your limbs are.’
“Theodosia…I…I need to ask something. It’s okay if you say no.” ‘I’m going to die if you do,’ her eyes seemed to say. “I don’t think I can go back home tonight.” She whispered. Waves broke in her mind. If the storm was this bad here…Now, at high tide, she would never reach the tower on the shore. She was too exhausted to even worry much about whether Gray would survive the night. “Do you know a place where I could crash? And…would you happen to know where I could find…a…a medic?”
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Jun 1, 2021 17:02:32 GMT -5
Theodosia clutched her friend's trembling body close, holding her tightly with a vague thought of keeping her warm. Nina's whispered apology reached her ears and she shuddered, trying to shove the sickening sound of the dagger sliding through muscle and bone deep into the furthest corner of her mind. She didn't want to think about it right now, didn't want to see her friend commit such an awful act over and over in her mind...but feeling Nina's body shake made her feel better, somehow. It made her seem more human, less like the knife-wielding automaton she'd seen just moments before.
"It's alright," she whispered. "It wasn't your fault, I should have known. I'm supposed to be able to see the future, remember?"
She followed her lame attempt at a joke with a weak smile, but it faded quickly as she realized that Nina's shaking wasn't actually due to any sort of sorrow or remorse. She followed Nina's gaze to her hand, then the scratches, and finally to the bloody rainwater dripping into them. Her hand flew to her mouth and she barely suppressed a cry of shock as the pieces fell together. Nina wasn't leaning up against her out of affection. Her chattering teeth weren't due to the cold. Her friend was ill, likely poisoned by the very spores that had driven Tressor mad and sent him to the grave.
"Oh no," she gasped, terror and helplessness washing over her like a wave of ice. "Oh no no no, this is bad. This is very bad. We've got to get you back to the settlement quickly. We've got a surgeon, I'm sure he can help you! You can stay with me, but you've got to get to the doctor. I don't want you turning into...that!"
She gestured vaguely at the crumpled body on the ground behind them, then pulled Nina away and started calling out to the shocked, confused people for help. Her shrill cries snapped a few out of their reverie, but they didn't all seem particularly interested in helping. Instead, some began stalking towards the two women, faces twisted with rage.
"You!" shouted one of them, steam rising from his rain-soaked shoulders. "You killed him! He was going to ascend, and you dragged him to the ground and slaughtered him like an animal! Monster! Heretic!"
"He was sick in the head!" shouted another, thinner man. He picked his way over as well, jabbing a finger towards where Tressor had fallen. "He would have gotten us all killed, you saw the same thing we did!"
"You'd turn your back so easily on the angels?" roared the first, turning away from Nina and Theodosia to glare at the other man. Spitting on the ground, he charged, knocking the smaller man down with a heavy thump. The clearing erupted into violence, loyalists fighting skeptics as fists flew and knives were drawn. Theodosia glanced back, shuddered, and wrapped her cloak around Nina's shoulders.
"Come on," she said, propping her up. "Let's get you out of here. I marked the way, thank goodness, but we should leave now. I don't want to stick around and bet on anyone winning, I just want you to be safe and get help."
With that, she began half-leading, half-carrying Nina back towards the settlement, skirting carefully around the brawl. As they passed, she heard a shrill scream of pain and glanced over. The rat-eating man was fighting with the mother of the two children, clutching at the knife that she'd just driven into his shoulder. The woman's face was that of rabid fury as she struggled for the blade, trying to pull it out and strike again. The children were nowhere to be seen.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Jun 2, 2021 15:15:23 GMT -5
In Nina’s mind, the cliff that oversaw the meadow had a name. It was called the Breaking Point.
Her chest snapped painfully between inhales and exhales. Her world grew darker, as several torches were dropped in the mud during the fray and couldn’t be lit back up. Shouts reverberated in her ears. She was hyperventilating, and the sensation of wet cloth pressed against her nose while rivulets of rain trickled down her temples made her feel like she was drowning. She barely lasted a few steps of being dragged by Theodosia, before reaching out and pulling the scarf down. In her wrist, something brushed against the wrong thing as she did so. And still, there wasn’t enough air.
The pain was fading. She clung to Theodosia as if she was the most important person in her world. The fortune-teller was so brave, and so far-sighted, she dizzily thought, for having predicted the danger. Her grasp on her shoulders was so gentle. Later, she would consider whether the budding infection had twisted her mind to fawn over the first image she saw. But if so, solace came too late. The realization of her mistake, that glimpse of steel and blood, had chilled Nina’s blood enough to push her that infinitesimal distance into shock. She shuddered and felt so, so very cold.
The sounds of fists meeting flesh around them, of glinting metal, made Nina twitch as if it was her flesh they were tearing. Against her chest, she felt a weight. Every time she breathed, she felt it pressing deeper down. Her swordbreaker. It was a weapon specifically designed to target other weapons. She had been trained in it by a master.
And she could do absolutely nothing.
Silent sobs shook her. This was more than just an argument. They were holding knives. And she, the assassin’s apprentice, with weapons crafted by master blacksmiths of the Azure Archipelago, couldn’t even stand on her own two feet. She saw unequal fights, and forced herself not to turn her gaze away. This blood was on her hands. Her mind was frozen, that even when she saw a knife being used she couldn’t register who was the assailant, or who was more in danger. All she could do was speak. Speak, and hope that her words didn’t cause more death.
“Your kids. Where are they? Where are your kids? Where are-”
The woman tried to repeat, but she was already running out of air. Theodosia’s fingers felt like points of light against her shoulders. They lulled her to sleep, but at the same time dragged her onwards, always, torturously onwards. One of the last conscious decisions that Nina took was to stab her dagger in the soft wood of a half-rotten log, once they entered the forest. Then her arm went limp.
She was mostly quiet as Theodosia dragged her away. She did ask to be killed a few times. She commented, her voice like a thread unwinding, that Theodosia seemed to be glowing. And once, she chuckled as she struggled to calculate how long it would take for the sea level to reach them if it kept raining at that rate.
“Did’ja know…yer glowy…glowy…” Nina whispered, her discomfort obvious with the way ideas escaped her. “No’ tha’ word. Th’ other word.” She mumbled.
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Theodosia Planchette
Committed
Roleplay posts: 80
Appearance: Theodosia stands at a fairly average, unimpressive height. Her red hair and numerous golden piercings and ornaments are quite eye-catching, although her tendency to glare at people often dissuades a second glance. She wears a number of bright silks and elaborately patterned robes befitting a proper fortune-teller. The twisting, vine-like tattoos on her arms are actually just painted on, a fact that she tries to keep hidden from people.
Skills and Abilities: Theodosia is a trained fortune-teller, gifted with the ability to see through the mists of time and pluck upon the threads of fate...or so she claims. Whether she actually possesses any such skills can be questionable at times, but her knowledge of fortune-telling methods (from cards to ashes to chicken entrails) is unrivaled.
Registered: Mar 28, 2021 21:11:09 GMT -5
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Post by Theodosia Planchette on Jun 10, 2021 21:02:01 GMT -5
Since she was a small child, Theodosia had never been a very athletic person. She spent her days largely indoors, sitting around on cushions and swirling mugs of tea. She seldom ran faster than a casual sashay, because hurrying suggested that the fortune-teller had fallen victim to unforeseen circumstances. She also didn't recall the last time she'd lifted anything heavier than her crystal ball (which came with a convenient case with handles) and yet here she was, trying to run through the woods while dragging the barely-conscious Nina. Adrenaline only took her so far, and she was tired and panting within minutes. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she hauled the woman through the trees, trying not to look at the chilling scenes of violence in the clearing.
"Shush, Nina," she murmured, trying to sound reassuring as she hauled her friend behind a bush. "Don't attract their attention. You're the one that matters now. You're the one I care about, and you're the one I'm getting out of here. If I can't get you home safe, what kind of friend am I, huh?"
Taking a moment to catch her breath, she spared a glance down at her torn, muddy skirts and sighed. Perhaps she ought to have chosen something more practical for this little excursion, but a fortune-teller had to keep up appearances. It simply wouldn't do to not look mysterious and all-knowing, after all. Nina's mumbling about glowing didn't make very much sense, but Theodosia had years of practice in making up stories for people's nonsensical rambling.
"Glowing?" she asked, lifting Nina back up to her feet and pulling her back towards the settlement. "Well, my mother always used to tell me a story about that. She said that the moon was nothing more than a giant crystal ball, floating up high in the sky. She said that only the best fortune tellers could read the moon, and when they learned how to do that, they glowed brighter than all the stars in the heavens. Looks like I'll be able to read the great crystal ball of the gods and learn their secrets, but I can't do that in this forest! Let's get back to the settlement so I can see the moon properly."
She felt a twinge of guilt at how easily she'd slipped into the lie, how she'd gone in an instant from being a concerned friend to treating Nina like just another rube. Was this her default state of being, the persona she fell back on in times of stress? It would have worried her, but she didn't have the energy to spare to be worried at the moment. Dragging Nina took everything she had, and soon she was forced to stop talking and save her breath. It was a good thing she'd marked the path on the way in, or the two of them would have likely been lost in the woods until the sun came up.
As it was, it still took hours to get back to the settlement. The exhausted mystic was barely able to support Nina's weight as the two women stumbled out of the treeline, staggering across the sand. Looking up at the lines of tents and beginnings of wooden buildings, Theodosia squeezed Nina's hand, shaking her.
"Look, Nina," she gasped, the relief evident in her trembling voice. "We made it! Let's get you to the infirmary, quickly now. How are you feeling?"
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Jun 12, 2021 16:28:01 GMT -5
The worst of all was the uncertainty.
Would it have any been different, if she’d allowed Tressor to meet his natural end?
If she’d struck him down earlier?
Had the spores truly entered her bloodstream? Perhaps she was simply overreacting.
Cruelty, kindness, lies. There were so many thoughts swirling inside her, that Nina didn’t even have space left for breath. Pain. Exhaustion. Cold. Later, Nina would remember nothing more from that journey. The mental constructs she’d built kept her tethering on consciousness’ edge. The high kept her on her feet, all while killing her. With every beat of her heart, tiny spores in her bloodstream were gradually shedding outer layers spiced with euphorics. Far away, in a small stone building engulfed by roaring waves, a clock ticked. In the darkness, its sound grew tenser, almost a silent screech, as if gears were pressing against an unknown obstacle.
On the floor of that room, a man moved his hand to the side, lifting it just enough for the tips of three of his fingers to reach the machinery. In a moment, his nails were bruised blue, and there was silence as the Clocktower ground to a halt. Nina stumbled, as if her heart had skipped a beat. Then the man moved back, and a thread of blood was left on the steel gears. Gradually it would be woven among all of them. The clock kept ticking.
When they were out of the forest, Nina fell to her knees.
“I hoped…I hoped you could tell me my future.” The girl spoke in a whiny voice, that seemed to go through multiple accents and even languages in the span of moments. “Whether I’ll need to use that dagger on myself.” She looked up at the sky in despair. “But it’s raining.” She whispered.
Twenty levels down. That’s where she’d retreated, inside her mind, in order to endure the pain. The further one went in her mind, the more suggestible they became. But also, the closer they were to images that had marked them before. It is no surprise then, that when Nina was finally dragged to the infirmary tent, the figure she first saw was a familiar one.
“Oh. It’s you.” Her voice dripped with all the resentment she had the energy left to muster.
She couldn’t understand that the grey-clothed figure she saw wasn’t real. That she, herself, was wearing that same cloak, that looked strangely undamaged considering what it had been through. And yet she wrapped the wet cloak tighter against herself, due to a sense of having to return it combined with stubborn defiance.
“You look paler than I remember.” She grumbled. Then:
“Why is the Duke here? He’s staring at me.” Nina pointed towards a mannequin. Her voice shook. “No, I’m not injured, I feel great, he’s not going to feed on my suffering.”
Conversations took place across from her that she couldn’t follow. She was pushed onto a hospital bed, and had a sharp-smelling concoction pushed in her face. Nina reached for the neck of the bottle.
“Another test, is it? What’s your poison?” She chuckled, as the pain overwhelmed her mind. She’d reached out with her twisted arm. She drank. Her whispers became more erratic, and soon she didn’t even stir when leeches were placed on her, starting with the arm that had been infected.
“They might think you useful. But I know. You treat people like objects, Master of the Clocktower.” She told the doctor. She repeated the same thing to Theodosia as a warning. Her face became paler, her breathing slower as the blood loss progressed. The warmth of the alcohol she’d drank faded to frost.
When asked, she commented on the progression of her symptoms as calmly as if she was used to it. Though she forgot about the hand.
Slowly, slipping into and out of unconsciousness.
The clock kept ticking. A second heartbeat, accompanying her own. Sometimes…almost pushing for her own heart to keep beating.
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