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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

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  1. What's new in this club
  2. Having a new victi- new character might make it easier, actually. I just realized that my reply was eaten by Trollocs, so I get to start over again on that.
  3. Thanks for helping out, Lii. I don't have any Freelander chars myself and I'd rather not have to pull out NSW's. It's not as much fun for Cal if I have to do that.
  4. will see what he says to having another rugrat in there... i just draged him into it to get my char to gain some ws skill so... but this the rp i am talking about in case he dont know cause sometimes he is dence like that other then that if you check my profile i listed all my chars there so has various freelanders laying about
  5. What you looking to do? So many ways things can go If you dont mind slowgoing can always see if Q is up for you joining our retro rp, gives him too rookies to pitch against eachother @Quibby
  6. Would anyone like to be my RP partner? Read my bio and decide. As the Saint always says " What have you got to lose?" - Caldazar al'Aemon
  7. You're all set to play! Welcome to the RP and the Freelanders @Caldazar al'Aemon 😊 Here's where you can start your RP's, present-time; Here's where you can write things as they happened in the past. Planning threads/writing request chats can happen here with Freebooters specifically, or here to include all players. Have fun!
  8. "Light, Mehrin -" Eb ran her hands roughly through her hair, gripping the roots near the nape of her neck and giving a sharp tug upwards before dropping her arms to her sides. "I just -" So many thoughts competed for focus in her mind she felt like her head was about to burst open. Her heart, too, still felt like it was attempting to ram itself out of her chest. She shut her mouth, opened it again. He was right. Fear, unbridled fear, did this. Undermined confidence. Preceded loss. Robbed one of the power to think, sometimes as effectively and as insidiously as the assassin's poisoned needles. "This is hardly a usual battle though," she grumbled, and louder, "And I'm no bloody good at-" she waved her hands around, trying to encompass the table of assassin-ware, what she'd just heard, the window where she couldn't have countered a threat, the space between each of those and Mehrin, Mehrin's mood, his actions of vulnerability and her utter inability to address them, the intrusive visions of him sinking lifeless to the floor, now with an element of dreadlord. She scowled when the words wouldn't come, and waved some more, trying to indicate the tangled press of feelings in the air, within herself, that his news had stirred. "At this." She scowled harder. Fear was something she remembered the feeling of, something she worked hard to stay ahead of, stay harder than. It was something that trained her as a child in the Rahad, something she had learnt to turn into instant focus or fury. It was not something she usually felt. Feeling it - feeling anything - was exasperating. Terrifying in itself. She barked a laugh. She looked to Mehrin and walked across to kick, unnecessarily, she realised too late, at the wedge underneath the door and make sure it was secure. She could feel what she assumed was Mehrin's gaze on her in part, but for that moment she didn't turn around. Forehead resting against the back of the door, she consciously turned down the emotions and began to try and order her thoughts on his story, the consequences and any possible solutions ahead. "Is it really, though? The beginning?" she asked quietly, "And if so, what really is this the beginning of?"
  9. The nausea was beginning to pass, but the disgust was still there. Perhaps it always would be. Mehrin, staring at the floor, wrapped it up and set it aside for later. He would deal with it when he had time. Now, though, was a different matter. There was something else bothering him. Fear. Fear had a smell, a taste, a look. Fear could be felt by those around the person, and in the heightened senses of the moment Mehrin felt fear, but not his own. Something had shaken Eb beyond anything he had ever seen from her before. It was shown in the closed-off way that she stood holding herself in the corner of his eye. There had to be a source for that fear, one that had nothing to do with the assassin's failed attempt. A flash of intuition, something that he had learned to trust on the battlefield, gave him a possible answer. "'A commander must never show fear,'" Mehrin said quietly. The words were not his. They belonged to an ancient commander named Alyssia Maharevenn, a woman whose very presence on the field had once caused an entire army to retreat without offering battle before the Compact of the Ten Nations had been signed. She had written several treatises on tactics, and Mehrin had laboriously read every single one of them after he had been named commander of the Band. A part of Mehrin had always wondered if she was some distant ancestor of his parents based on her name, but he had never looked into it any further. She was not the only one he had read. Reading was never a strong point for Mehrin, but he had forced his way through every book that he could get his hands on about command and tactics. He continued, "'The confidence of the entire army lies with its commanders, and fear undermines confidence. A commander who shows fear to her soldiers has lost the battle before the first arrow has flown.'" Slowly, Mehrin's eyes moved from the floor to meet Eb's eyes. "She was right, wasn't she? Never thought to see me lose control like that, I'd guess." Unfortunately, Eb had asked The Question, and if she was going to be prepared for whatever came, Mehrin had to answer. "Do you ever think," Mehrin began, his eyes once again falling to the floor, "that the Creator sometimes has all the creative ability of a drunken gleeman who is trying to make up a story? That's apparently my life." Even preparing to say it had Mehrin shaking his head at the evident stupidity of it all. "I have an evil twin brother named Ayrik Drayven. Yes, it really is that ridiculous. "My daughter, a child that I never knew existed, ran away from her mother and found me at the Citadel. I did the best that I could as a father. I gave what free time I had to being there for her. I assigned her a minder. Remember Aldar Gesparion? Used to use a rapier on the battlefield, took a bad injury at Bandar Eban that left him barely able to walk. I took him on as my assistant in the office to keep as much work away from my desk as I possibly could. When Renalie showed up at the Citadel, he immediately took her under his wing, and I made the arrangement permanent." A small, sad smile crossed Mehrin's face for a moment as memories stirred. "For a time I was actually happy. I had a daughter, a career, even somebody who I thought would want to share it all with me." The smile turned cold and dark. "Then he showed up. The bastard, apparently a channeler, stepped out of a gateway in the middle of the night and stole Renalie from me. Aldar hurt him badly- the idiot thought that he could fight him with a sword, and even a crippled man was more than a match for him. I think he was trying to hide from the Asha'man. Probably couldn't win a stand-up fight." Memories stirred, threatened to drag Mehrin down with them. Aldar, his back broken, barely able to breathe. He had known that he was dying, and he had asked Mehrin to make it a quick death for him. He had done so with only the barest twinge of guilt. An empty room, a letter. Gloating. Rage. Drea. Comfort. A decision. "I don't know if Renalie is still alive. Ayrik never told me," Mehrin growled, the darkness that he kept bottled within himself tinting his words with red rage. "For all I know, he dropped her into the blackness inside of a gateway, leaving her to spend the rest of her life screaming as she fell through eternal nothingness." The darkness clamored forward, seeing the chance to finally be free. "I don't care. If she's alive, I will find her. If not... The Shadow cannot bury him deeply enough to escape me." A sudden burst of anger forced the darkness back down. Mehrin would use it when he needed it, not before. "That is why I left. If there was a chance that I could find her, then I had to take it." Shaking his head, Mehrin continued. "She is likely long dead, but I can't stop until I'm sure. I have walked from one side of this Light-blasted continent to the other searching for her. Drea left the Band with me, and he even managed to drive her away from me. I have been alone for so long, and for the bastard to show up now and try to kill me now..." The rage was too much. Mehrin's closed fist struck the arm rest of the chair, and he felt it break underneath his hand. "Expect everything," he growled. "This is just the beginning..."
  10. Nox blinked at the abrupt nature of their greeting. He was used to hostility in the Black Tower, but most people saw the black coat and were scared. This wasn't scared, this was something else. Though fear makes you do stupid thing. Nox grinned at Mer and squeezed his hand. This was his show, but Nox couldn't let it be. This woman didn't know him. Knew nothing of his past or how he had gotten here, and there was no reason to be angry at them They were just following orders just like she was. Nox tugged at Mer and they followed, catching up to their guide. "Breakfast sounds wonderful. Right Mer?" He grinned as his love still holding his hand. "Though we already ate. I don't think I could eat another bite." Nox pulled a bag out of a pocket in his coat, he'd been saving the crusty bread with left overs in it for later. Mostly for Mer cause he'd get lost in whatever work he was doing. And Nox didn't want to stray too far from him to take care of him if he didn't have to. "I brought some of Mer's leftovers. Maybe instead you can show us around and you can have this instead. It really is wonderful. Mer's an excellent cook. He runs the soup kitchen at the Tower. All the villagers love when he cooks."
  11. @Caldazar al'Aemon you're good to go. Time to decide on your character's first RP. You can discuss details in the private Freelanders Club, or ask other members if they'd like to be writing partners on the Dragon Reborn OOC board in this Club.
  12. No! "Comm-" Eb snapped her mouth shut and jammed her hands into her pockets in an attempt to prevent them from furling into fists or throwing knives. With a short, bitter laugh she realised the paradox inherent in smothering aggression to avoid a diplomatic assignment. Perhaps things might turn out easier if she did let the knives fly? Surely then he'd realise that she was the last person in the Band, ever, that should be entrusted with this? Nothing else had worked. Calder fixed her with a level stare. "Captain." She looked back at him, teeth grinding together. This was it - the point of no return, either way. Swallowing the flood of curses swirling in her mind, she nodded her head to him. "Consider it done, then." ------------------- Outside the bounds of the Red Keep, Eb paced. First, decide if they're trustworthy!? She spat, putting an end to sudden echoes of manic laughter and her memories of helplessness, of Mehrin's body at the mercy of the One Power. Of his death. She balled her hands into fists to stop them shaking, shook her head to stave off the tears that threatened to spill. For Bloody Light's Blasted Sake! ----------- ------------------------- ----------- The tiniest sliver of pre-dawn light crept into her room and she scowled at it, scruffing a hand through her wild jet-black hair and over her face. No bloody rest for the blasted... she pushed aside the comforter that hadn't, yet again, and stood. Her mouth still tasted of the Bandy she'd bolted down the evening before. Food hadn't seemed like an option then, nor did it now - despite the audible protestations of her stomach. She strapped on her swords and took a swig from her waterskin, swilling and spitting as she reached the door outside. Ignoring the headquarters looming before her in the hazy violet light of dawn as pointedly as she ignored the grumble in her gut, she turned a hard left and made for the stone wall. Left again there, she jogged alongside the grey granite, feeling justified in her own rough blankness of heavy mood. The watchtower grew in front of her as she approached. The scowl on her face deepened. About here, on the other side of the wall, would be the Embassy of the Black Tower. The scowl deepened further, the scar on her cheek twisting sourly with it. Right there. Too close. And soon - too soon - her newest 'charges' and she would be there, too. Together. She shivered and picked up the pace, veering left again at the end of the Range and keeping her head well down until she reached the Yards. She reached them quickly enough, and discovered without any great surprise that no-one else was about yet. Shrugging, she ditched the idea of a spar and settled into the open space of the smaller yard to work through general sequences. The swords slid from their sheathes and came to settle in front of her, twin blades perfectly still, pointed forward and up at forty-five degrees. She closed her eyes. SPIN-STAB! She stepped back and dropped a knee, flicking the hilts down and around until she could catch them again and drive the blades backwards, behind her, hard, either side of her leg. SWISh - She worked through several routines, dancing against her memories and a sense of futility - dipping, stabbing, thrusting, stepping, slicing, whirling. In her mind's eye, as well as in practice, she replayed move after move after move as she made it, adjusting angles and limbs and weapons a hair here, an inch there. Usually the drills were a ritual that calmed and focused her, as much as anything ever had. These days though, the ache of frustration and loss in her chest remained unaffected by even them, no matter how much her muscles stretched and strained. This was, afterall, where he'd first trained her. Where she'd learned two swords were better than one, that best practice often occurred before the sun truly graced the sky. For all the good it can ever do. She stared at the first true rays of sunlight, peeking now over the eastern wall, and shoved the swords angrily back into their sheathes. There was nothing for it. They had to prepare and use every chance, every skill and muscle and weapon that they had. Even those that were capable of so much more than just stabbing them in the back. She marched out of the yard, out of the Citadel proper, and towards the Embassy. ------------------- The air inside the cordoned-off travelling Grounds split, and twisted, whirling wide. Although she was still a distance off, Eb stopped short, hissing out the breath that threatened to get stuck in her throat. Her heart hammered, visions of the last time she'd seen such a gateway flooded her mind, threatening to drown her in the memories and terror once again. There were reasons she'd been avoiding this place as much as possible since her return. She sucked in a breath, forced it down to the bottom of her lungs. Let it out. Repeated the same again. What in the ruddy Light is WRONG with you!? She yelled silently at herself, forcing a few more breaths until she was calm enough to move on. The hole in the air had disappeared. In its place were two men, each of them with their hair cropped choose to their scalps. Eb watched as they exited the Traveling Yards. Tall. Thin. - she shut down the mental evaluation of their stances and physical forms even as it began. Channelers, both of them. Nothing else mattered. How could it? They were holding hands, talking as they stepped out of the yard with a nod from the guard at the gate. Eb looked from one to the other. "Your stuff goes there," she jerked a thumb towards the on-site barracks. "For now. Whenever it arrives." And so it begins. "I've been told that the first stop is the city, for breakfast," she turned to leave, assuming they would follow.
  13. Warder applicants should be aged 16-21. Bio guidelines can be found HERE. If you plan to actually join and RP as a mercenary then you'd be applying as a Freelander in the first instance. Changing RP Groups later would require discussion with the WT Leader and Warders Head on how that would be handled.
  14. Hi everyone, I'm fleshing out my first character, mainly a mercenary that spent a good chunk of her time defending trade convoys, that would be "late" in joining the Warders. A bit like a Novice that's accepted, well after her "formative" years. So imagine a rich merchant's daughter who would rather ride horses and see the world, understood quickly that it's not all roses and clear water, had some fair success at trading and "keeping" what's hers or her investors' out of the wrong hands. I'm thinking there's an Aes Sedai connection at some point, or points of fealty to one of the "investors", and consequently ends up joining the "Warders" a bit later in life. How would one work that out? Is that even acceptable? Cheers, Cali
  15. Nox was highly annoyed at Aiden's display. He was sure it was written all over his face. This could have been handled without hurting someone. Now there was likely a lawsuit on hand, burning a guy yeah real great work. Nox nodded to the bar tender and he called the cops. Nox didn't want to answer Aiden for fear of chewing him out in front of the pricks he'd taken care of. Instead Nox wrapped his own weave of air around the men and gave them a friendly smile. "Let's wait outside so the rest of our guests can enjoy the show that's just about to start" Nox didn't give them a choice and tugged them through the tables outside. They bitched and yelled and called for abuse. And they'd been right, but they had also started it with their behavior. Nox wasn't sure how to get out of the problem Aiden had inadvertently caused, but that he'd deal with later. The cops showed up ten minutes later. Nox recognized one, he worked the Red Light District most evenings and had been on the scene many times. He gave Nox a smile and when he came over to take possession of the men he had news. "So I talked with your medical examiner guy, rather he overheard the call and told me to give you the message to save him the trouble. It was a heart attack." he said shaking his head like he didn't understand. "He said you'd understand." "I do. Thank you." The officer cuffed and escorted the three men out to his car and off they went. Nox frowned as he turned around to look at Aiden. "You really shouldn't have thrown fire around." Nox said as he grabbed Aiden's hand and pulled him towards the alley way and back in the side door. The group he'd stepped in to gear for was gone now, he could go back upstairs. "But thank you for your help." Nox said as he stopped outside the club side entrance again. "You still want to come up?" Nox was sure he wanted Aiden too, even as he was miffed at him. It still didn't beat out the attraction he felt. Just holding his hand sent sparks through his body. A fantasy lived...
  16. Aiden carefully watched Nox as he wove the shield, memorizing the weave as the thing settled upon the brute. He only needed to see a weave once before committing it to memory. Nox had shown Aiden a number of useful weaves, although most of them had been for battle and the killing of monsters. Everything else Aiden had learned was due to the observations of other men wielding the Power; Jaxen Marveet was first amongst them. There should be a book… or a website or something for us to share these tricks, Aiden thought to himself, Rowan mentioned a message board for the women… We should follow suit. Nox admonished the group of men, smiling at Aiden sometime in between. A second shield slammed onto another man in the group. Aiden moved towards the two shielded men, hands reaching out to take both by the neck. Orbs of ice materialized above the head of a third and shot out at Nox and Aiden, one of which struck at Aiden’s right hand. He recoiled at the blow and started singing on instinct. “Well, you can run like a rabbit, fly like a bee, No matter what you do, you’ll never get away from me,” Aiden sang in an upbeat voice as the light erupted behind his right shoulder. He grasped the Power and deftly began to weave Fire, “Cause I’m right behing you baby, right behind you baby, Well, I’m right behind you baby and you’ll never get away from me.” Countless fireballs erupted into being, swirling around Aiden. One shot out and struck the icemaker in the head, his hair bursting into flame. Two more found their mark on the men that had channeled earlier. The rest of the men took the hint and fled before the rest of the fireballs found their mark. “Well, you can make up your face, dye your hair, No matter what you do, turn around and I’ll be there,” Aiden sang on as he brushed away the glamour that he had taken on earlier and divided the flows, channeling Air and imprisoning the three brutes that remained with bonds around their limbs. Aiden looked to Nox and smiled, “Have you got the police on speed dial?”
  17. Eb cursed. Crouched at the ready, she kept her eyes fixed on Mehrin's form, rocking at the window. She'd expected him to be taken out the instant he'd crossed there, but somehow the seconds and minutes continued to drag on without retaliation. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. The surreal sound of shirtsleeve scuffing against wooden sill accompanied muffled moans from the darkfriend as she swung. By the end of her broken arm. Eb gritted her teeth, biting back a new wave of nausea and a stronger string of profanities. The swinging movements intensified. " You won't escape, big man," the woman's threat to Mehrin replayed in her mind. "You can't stop the inevitable." And then, suddenly, the words came to life. Eb saw - watched helplessly - as her ex-commander's body jerked violently away from the window. Almost in slow motion, he sank to the floor, blood blooming from a bolt-hole in the flesh of his throat. His eyes were wide, lifeless. Blood and bloody ashes, Mehrin! She snarled, shaking the scenario from her mind. Her hands clenched tight around her knives, choking them at the hilts. What in the Light have you gotten us into? Darkfriends, assassins, dreadlords? The swinging stopped. There was a second of utter silence. A wet and not-so-distant crunch. No calls of alarm, no clatter of footsteps followed. No thwack of crossbow bolts to Mehrin's chest. He leaned out and leered down the alley in both directions, then abruptly shut the window, drew the curtains, sank into a chair. Eb stood, releasing the breath she'd been holding with a sharp hiss. "Wh - " she bit the admonishments off before they even really begun. Mehrin sat in the chair, pale and looking for all the world as if he was about to vomit. She took a step back. He retched and his face contorted, crumpled. Tears began to flood down his cheeks. He gulped at the air, chest heaving, again and again. Eb drew a deep breath and turned her head away, and then back. Her hands squeezed harder on the hilts of her knives. The heartbeat in her ears picked up in tempo. "I -" he choked on the words, looking lost, and Eb felt her mouth go dry, her throat constrict. Mehrin drew deep breath after deep breath. Each one felt to Eb like he was sucking all of the remaining air from the room. Finally, he managed, "Aryik is back. At least we know who we're dealing with." He cleared his throat before continuing, "Go - go back to sleep. I need to think, and the Darkfriends won't dare to make a move against us tonight." Eb stared at him. "Go back to sleep?!" she shoved her knives back into her sleeves to stop herself from throwing one at him. "Go back to sleep? Mehrin-bloody-Mahrvon, you are - " she snapped her mouth shut. She couldn't finish the sentence. Her hands shook, and for once she didn't know whether it was because of the recent release of the tension they'd held along with her knives, or because the whole world had just turned itself upside down, and she was afraid. She folded them into her armpits. Eyes wide, she looked to the table of abandoned assassin-ware. To the window. The floor. Mehrin's face. "Who," she paused, pushing aside the memories of a name being murmured here and there in hushed tones around the campfires after Mehrin's first disappearance from the Band. "Who in the blasted dark is Aryik?"
  18. Nox really hated assholes. But he gave the man a smile and was about to ask him to leave again polietly but Aiden came up in an illusion. The menacing power had been a warning to him. He'd apparently learned a trick or two from Jaxen. Nox thought about it and he could probably hold the illusion too but it really wasn't worth it. But it might make a good show. He'd think about it later. Right now another menacing presence erupted in front of him. The strength wasn't great in the man in front of him, and it was always harder to shield a man from the source of his power when he was wielding it, but Nox carefully wove the net of spirit and slipped it over the man. His dark light went out and Nox smiled happily splitting his flow so he wasn't defenseless. The man turned around and there was panic in his eyes. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If you are going to throw fireballs around endangering the girls and other guests then you must leave now." Nox pulled the out from one of the other guests at his table. "If you'll all come with me quietly out the door now we can let the rest of the guests see the show they came to see." Nox looked at Aiden with a smile though he hadn't really needed the help it had diffused a little of the situation. Though apparently not enough of it one of the other men pulled the power around him. Nox sighed even as he wove a second shield tying off the first to dissipate in a few hours. This shield was bigger and larger than the last, the power was greater in this one. He wove a blast of in a perimeter around him. The shield slipped over him and Nox tied it off immediately keeping his power free for any more attacks. "I will ask you one more time to leave before the cops are called and you are all arrested." Nox didn't mention the fact that he'd wrap them all up in air and carry them outside. He'd done it before and he'd do it again.
  19. Aiden’s eyebrows shot up and he faltered in his song at Nox’s mention of dancing on stage; a great howl preceded this as the Power suddenly vanished from Aiden’s grip at the abrupt stop of his song. The entire room turned towards the commotion and not a few of them gave Aiden a very hard look. He mouthed the word ‘sorry’ to the onlookers and each turned back to their beers and their ogling. Aiden very deliberately avoided turning to look at Nox. “Oh?” Aiden asked half over his shoulder, “You’re constantly surprising me, Nox. I’m slightly offended I wasn’t invited to watch you practice.” Images of Nox in a revealing costume, moving to a primal rhythm flooded Aiden’s mind. His cheeks flushed as the mental scene progressed into something more raw. Throwing his head back, Aiden drank down half of his Stella and silently cursed himself for not grabbing a pack of smokes before arriving. Booze may not have been the best way to cool down, but it was the closest vice at hand. True, he had a joint hidden in his coat pocket, but he didn’t want to feel spacey or sluggish just yet. Shouts from the front of the room broke Aiden out of his bubble. The dancer had finished her set and the stage sat empty, prompting those men to grow impatient. Nox had walked up to the group of trash which had caused the commotion, urging them to chill out and grab another drink- for free no less. Aiden found his voice and started singing once more, “When the twilight is gone and no songbirds are singing. When the twilight is gone you come into my heart.” The light of the Power sprung up from behind. Aiden went on, “And here in my heart you will stay while I pray.” Raging torrents of energy flooded Aiden’s every particle, charging him with the sweet and violent power of creation. He deftly wove Air, Fire, and Spirit into a complex and sizable weave, settling the thing around his entire body, yet not completing the thing. This was his insurance policy, a nifty trick he had picked up from Jaxen Marveet’s performance those many nights ago. “My prayer is to linger with you, at the end of the day in a dream that’s divine,” Aiden kept singing to himself to hold the power. The group of men were openly sneering at Nox. The largest of them laughed heartily and downed the rest of the amber liquid in his mug. “Yeah, and the rest of the night will be on you if there ain’t another skank up on the stage in the next sixty seconds. We came here to see some tail, so make with it or get me drunk,” The largest of the men said. The goon turned to look at Nox and yelled, “Well, what you waiting for pansy!?” He whipped the glass mug at Nox, which narrowly missed his head. “My prayer is a rapture in blue, with the world far away and your lips close to mine,” Aiden sang as he let the weave settle over his body and tied the thing off. In the blink of an eye, his form and musculature swelled to four times their size- at least they appeared to. Anyone looking at him would see a man whose head brushed the ceiling and with muscles large enough to rival The Incredible Hulk. He stopped singing and let the Power wink out; the weave stayed in place. Aiden walked over to the group, trying his best to look as menacing as possible and spoke in a rumbling baritone, “Ya’ll are gonna have to leave if you wanna keep ya’ heads on ya’ bodies.” One of the skinnier men started yelling at Aiden, “Sit down, freak!” That same, little man started weaving Fire. Ah, crap, Aiden thought to himself as he saw the weave begin, Other Channelers.
  20. Nox felt that menacing presence spring up around him. He knew Aiden was singing or since he obviously wasn't doing much else other than watching things. Candy's show was done and she had exited stage right and the next was gearing up. The music had changed and Nox wished he could actually be up on stage. He'd picked the music, done the choreography and had danced it all before losing his arm. But the show had been eventful and there were girls who could do what he did to make it all fanciful. The lighting wasn't the same, the girl hadn't figured it all out and Nox was no help in that matter. Nox leaned down and whispered in Aiden's ear, "The girl in blue was my part." He hoped it gave him a good reaction as the girl danced and swayed through all the motions. It told the story of Nut (which Nox had played, the others parts were played by the girls on stage) and Ged being separated by Shu at the insistence of Ra. And at the end a little Dory and Nemo floated by. It was an inside joke that Nox never actually got to finish. Though the same set of girls was working on that performance, they just hadn't gotten it perfected. Hades and Persephone were next on Nox's list of gods to give the burlesque treatment. The men in front were calling for more performances and they started shoving each other around in the chaos they were making. Nox took a step closer to them and the other bouncers did the same. Though they were still much further away. And Nox didn't really need help. Nox reached through the sludge in his head and shuddered at the sickly feeling it left behind as he pulled the power to him. Echos of hunger, pain and mating pulled at this mind. It raged inside of him pulsing with the power. It hurt more but Nox wasn't drawing much power. He'd not drawn even half of what he could thanks to the Iijraq's treatment of his body. He was grateful never to encounter that thing again. They shouted at each other and Nox stepped up next to them. "I think you all need to settle down and have a drink while you wait for the next show. All on me of course." [[ go ahead and make one or all react, I don't want to write all the fun 🙂 ]]
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