[Record] Leila Townhome

[cibarium]

LEILA TOWNHOME ► ► ► [ 1969 ]

▪▪ combat +1 ▫
▪▪ combat -1 (glitch) ▫
▪▪ hp -3 (glitch) ▫

[ ▪ ▪ ▪ ] roleplay log

▪▪ a hole in the world ▪
▪▪ sunday ▪
▪▪ first things first ▪
▪▪ the fiddle and the drum ▪
▪▪ stones like black teeth ▪
▪▪ an end, to all things ▪
▪▪ a new gay a new start ▪  

[cibarium]

[ ▪ ▪ ▪ ] recovered powers


▪▪ brightens up a room ▫

always has adequate lighting for whatever purpose she needs it for

▪▪ element zero ▫

Leila can consciously adjust her own mass, allowing her to perform feats such as bound with the lightness of an air-filled balloon or stomp with enough weight to crack pavement.

▪▪ snowball ▫

WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE A HANDFUL OF SNOW WHEN YOU WANT ONE?? WHY??

▪▪ oracle ▫

may have visions of decisions another person should make in the future, but cannot see the potential outcomes of these decisions

[ ▪ ▪ ▪ ] temporary magic

▪▪ name ▫

description

 

[cibarium]

LEILA TOWNHOME ► ► ► [ PROMPT 1 ]

▪▪ What sort of lodgings do you acquire for your stay? ▫

I've managed to find a comfy bed with a kindly family or group.

▪▪ What sort of clothing do you find to help you blend in? ▫

I found a clothesline.

▪▪ How are you going to earn some cash? ▫

Busking! I'm good at it!

 

[cibarium]

1. Disorientation. No stat changes.
2. Migraine. -1 to all combat rolls.
3. Light physical damage. -1 to all combat rolls.
4. Severe disorientation. -2 to persuasion rolls.  

[cibarium]

glitch roll  

[cibarium]

Leila Townhome volunteers

Conversation went back and forth, back and forth, panic alongside the comforting rhythm of ritual and the cringing unease of flesh being cut and blood spilled. As she viewed the sigil, her internal monolog spun away inside her head like herself in professor mode, stalking back and forth across the classroom or lecture hall.

"So are we supposed to- to focus on the whole thing at once, or..." She was muttering at no one in particular to fill space. This was that 'do what comes naturally' part of witchcraft and real magic she always had so much trouble with. It felt like what mattered was putting something of herself into the sigil, and why, and ******** semantics. Semantics were for soil ecology conferences.

Leila figured enabling the Multitude to be connected to this could only help. They were ancient, knowledgeable. Could her blood alone represent them and allow them to pour some of their will into this? Maybe if she kept the thought in the back of her mind. She would have two familiars when her warg training was complete, something no one had in common with her as far as she knew. Maybe that would count for something too. She wanted every bit of her that was different from the others, magic or otherwise, to go into this.

This was really no time to continue ruminating, though.

Start there. At those roots... flowing up and outward, becoming branches and leaves. This visualization played and replayed through her mind as her terribly trembling hand was steadied by Eve's so Temperance could pull it through flesh, so awful but so easy. The pain and the sight was nothing compared to being eaten alive, but the fact she was doing it herself, on purpose, for a reason... that froze her insides.

Her familiar-in-training was too far away for any chance at checking in with her, but she offered Friend space for a thought while giving her tribute. Thoughts could mean everything.

Reconciliation and growth, then freedom: Allow magic to develop naturally and benignly alongside those who may use it.

Blood tapped down into the design, and the whole sight and sound of it felt so boring compared to what she would have expected. These moments were supposed to be moody montages with deep orange candlelight and mood music; instead they all sat around and waited their turn like they were passing around the potatoes at a potluck.

shibruhgayne

#4 = Sunny

nominations:
America - innocence and guidance
Temperance - growth and healing