Introductions

Newcomers, don't be shy, come and introduce yourself! Our members will be delighted to bring you into the fold.


A Bright Presence Fills The Room...

   
A Bright Presence Fills The Room...

...and as you walk inside, you see a young woman. She is perched in a window seat, long, curly dark brown hair tumbling down her back as she hunches over the book she's reading. After a moment she looks up, and smiles when she sees you.

"Ah, good morrow, stranger," she says, her green eyes sparkling with interest. She stands, and offers to shake your hand. "I am the Whimsicalyst, twister of tales and dreamer of dreams. You've come here to find out a little about me, have you not?"

She returns to the window seat, and pats the spot beside her on the cushion, indicating you should sit. "I'm just about twenty summers old, and I live...probably a fair distance from you. I've played a few games in time, Dungeons and Dragons (1.0 and 3.5) and Pathfinder. Though, my main outlet for creativity has been text based one-on-one roleplay, without a specific game system." She sighs, looking out the window as if she can look back on past tales by doing so. "I've been at that since I was thirteen..."

"But enough about me!" she says, smiling at you and nudging your side with her elbow. "What about you? Tell me who you are, and what you do. Maybe we could become friends."

The young woman then frowns as she notes a commotion outside. Then she blinks again -

As she realised that everything had then gone into past tense.

"Remind me again what we're doing? I didn't think we were on the rota for introduction duty. Especially not in-character intro duty." That was a male voice, tinged with a distinctive Received Pronunciation accent.

"Suck it up, Monocle Man," a different, female voice replied, accent distinctly German and filled with suppressed annoyance. "It's about time you pulled intro duty, anyways."

"...we have a rota?" another female voice said, though the question clearly wasn't one. "Didn't know that."

"What's Iris even doing here anyway?" 'Monocle Man' asked.

"Search me," the second female voice, evidently Iris, replied. "And quit it with the fourth wall crap, we've got a visitor."

Four people entered the room, each vastly different from one another. The first was the only man, who looked like he could've come right out of the Old West, if it weren't for the accent. And the monocle. He had a rifle over his shoulder and a pistol at his hip, but his expression, as he turned to the newcomer, was warm and welcoming.

The second was a tall woman, the one with the Germanic voice, and she definitely looked the part, blonde and sharp-featured, dressed in a black jumpsuit without sleeves. A sword hung at her hip and a pistol opposite; in contrast to 'Monocle Man', as she called the Brit, her expression was unreadable.

Blinks and expressions of unease followed the third person, another woman, slightly shorter than the first. She was dressed entirely in black, from head to toe; she even had a shemagh wrapped around her head that only exposed her eyes. There was a longbow and quiver on her back, again in black; her sword, also black, was at her hip, noticeably larger than the first woman's.

The last to enter was a third woman, unremarkable compared to the other two, armored in chain mail, a sword - normal-sized, thankfully enough - hanging from her belt. She didn't speak, but she gave the newcomer a bow and a smile.

"Welcome to the Weave," 'Monocle Man' said, giving the newcomer a bow as well. "We are, as this paper says to say, the products of an insane mind from GMT+8, and he, by which we mean someone named 'Illusionist', also bids you welcome." He frowned at the paper in question, shaking it a little. "Damned strange man, if you ask me, though I haven't met him to look at. I am Alex Paget, and with me are Claudia von Hessenmark, Ashen Iris, and Likenia Komnenos." In order, each of the women bowed - blonde, black-clad, and armoured. "Not sure why this choice, but Illusionist said to say that since you're in character, he thought he ought to return the favour."

"Five Gods bless you and your journey," Likenia said.

The girl blinks, a soft, amused smile flitting across her lips. These people were quite interesting, and piqued her curiosity. She curtsies politely in response to the women's bows. "I thank you for the warm welcome. I should be most interested to get to know this..."Illusonist", and by extension, perhaps yourselves as well."

~~~

Thanks for the welcome, and the in-character response. ^^ It made me smile.

A holographic image of a tall, broad shouldered man in red and gray body armor, and holding an assault rifle, appears in the room, giving off a ghostly blue nimbus that lights up the room. He has close cropped brown hair and crystal blue eyes, and although he projects an air of confidence, there is also a sense of weariness and loss about him as well. A white emblem is embellished on the right breastplate of his armor, below his shoulder. It appears to be a letter followed by a number: N7.
The hologram nods slightly to the young woman with curly dark brown hair and green eyes. Then the man in the hologram speaks, a pleasant tenor voice emanating from the projection.
"I'm Commander Shepard, and Whimsicalyst is my favorite new member on Myth-Weavers."
After speaking, the projection gives a quick salute and a smile, and then fades quickly out of view.

The girl watches the hologram, examining it with curious eyes. She nibbles on the tip of her index finger, and her brow furrows. She is about to ask about the emblem, when the image speaks.
She laughs a quiet, sparkling laugh after Commander Shepard's words, and gives him a small wave as he fades from view. "Well," she murmurs to herself, "That was unexpected. I would have been interested to speak with him further. Perhaps another day..."

~~~

Thanks for the welcome! I appreciate it.

Approaching

A man worn with wrinkles which gave him a seeming warmth that he should not have had, approached the strange girl passing through the hologram as if he was not even aware of it's presence.

His cold, grey eyes, moved about the room as if they were searching for something unseen. This of course, was the case due to his blindness.

With a wry smile the blind man spoke, "Welcome to the Weave. I've an odd sense you've passed through Rh'ydin. Either way, I am Voxanadu. A blind spinster. My hope is entrusted within you. Become that which myths and legends are made of, and I shall spin you into the gran tapestry of my tales. At least, one day."

With that said, the self proclaimed spinster vanished without leaving behind a symptom of his departure.

"What a curious fellow," the girl murmurs, striding over to the bookshelf against the south wall of the room. She pulls out a particular compendium and begins leafing through it with purpose. "Rh'ydin..." she mutters, flipping to another page and running her fingers down a list of words and phrases. "Most intriguing."

~~~

Thank you for the welcome! I appreciate it.

A shadow flickers. As the various members of the Weave introduce themselves, and respectively vanish, a young lady in black emerges from a dark corner of the room with a light, hesitant step. Her voice is low, not timid exactly, but unpracticed. As if she is not accustomed to speaking her thoughts aloud.

"Welcome." She bows slightly, little more than an incline of her head. "I am Raelyn. A Shadowdancer. Also new to this Realm." She smiles, mostly with her eyes. "I hope you find your stay...enjoyable." Then, with another flicker of movement, she vanishes from your sight.

Two teenage girls appear, one with a long fringe over half her face, and the others with the slightly pointed ears of a half-elf. They stand with a man in his late twenties, also wearing Western Clothing. He turns to ‘Monocle Man’ and shakes his hand. “Mr Paget,” he says in perfect Queen’s English, “Krit said that since you have been sent, we should join you. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about my sister have you?”

The first girl shakes her head with a smile, brushing her fringe away from her eye. “You’ll hab to eggscuse him…” she starts in the same Cut Glass accent, before turning away sheepishly, returning as she puts a set of false vampire teeth in her pocket. “Sorry, forgot about those.” She waves her hand at the man, “Major NPCs, what can I say?”

The other laughs. “I’m Teagan, she’s Becky. Krit-Krit sent us to welcome you too. This is a strange place, but I’m sure you’ll have fun here. We do, it’s great…”

She’s interrupted by another voice. Turning around you see two women standing behind you, staring at the “Vampire” girl. “Molly, did I really look that young?” one asks. She looks to be coming up to her mid-twenties, wearing black combat trousers and carrying a selection of mechanic’s tools on her belt. “It’s hard to imagine.”

The other woman looks slightly younger, and is dressed in a black and green steampunk styled business suit. “I wouldn’t know, would I?” she laughs, an Irish accent clear in her speech. “I didn’t know ya back then. I was still living with my Da…” She shudders at the thought.

“See,” Teagan says, grinning at you. “A very strange place.”

“I wouldn’t change it though,” her young companion adds with a laugh.

---

Sorry, I couldn’t help myself Welcome to the Weave as they say. May your stay be as enjoyable as mine has been. Some of us may be a little strange, but we’re mostly harmless

A hooded figure appears in the window, draped all in black, with white wings arching out of his back and a heavy scythe in his right hand. He uses this implement to tap on the window. Turning, nobody can see his face, but his red gleaming eyes seem to set the room to a chilly temperature. They are not vicious or unfriendly but... piercing. The hooded figure lifts up a gloved hand in a wave, which is oddly comforting given the dark continence of the person or being behind it, then departs, spreading his wings and heading high up into the night to continue his vigil over the mortals of this world.




 

Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.1
Copyright ©2000 - 2014, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Blog   Myth-Weavers Status