Father
Sketch of my dear father the last time we had tea.
The crypt seems to be helping with the rot, though he really needs a better wig for a man of his age. Long hair doesn’t suit his stature.
Jars.
Dug up my third canopic jar. I’m starting to think that there is someone out in this world that is stranger than I. Because I’m tiring of finding all these mummified organs, but obviously they aren’t tiring of putting bits into jars and burying them.
viridiant asked: If you could be anything besides a human(half-elf?), what would you be?
I’m going to have to explain that silly elf business on another day, I would barely consider myself half.
But I can be quite a few things thanks to illusions and transformations and the like.
Oddly, these are my favorites, there’s something about being surrounded in soft fluffiness… I also enjoy being an arakkoa, my eye sight can be a touch horrid in that form, but they are just so expressive! Did you know they have a book full of communication through mere head gestures and chirrups?
There’s also something amusing over the fact that people will generally talk about anything carelessly if the only witness happens to be four-legged and akin to barking.
Though seriously? Given the free choice?
Would you expect anything else?
viridiant asked: It seems like you always have something clever or funny or intelligent to say in response to people. Has anyone ever told you something or did something that left you either incapable of speech or babbling incoherently as you tried to form a response?
…there are a fair amount of times that I was unable to offer a quip or two, when I was a child and my brother decided to try his first curses on me, which turned my hair white. I could not speak, mainly because all I could offer was enraged shrieking.
Or another, whenever I see Sir Uthas, I generally lose my voice to snark, far too many flashbacks to that… experience. I’ll never climb a cliff wall again.
When my first husband decided to have a… few… dalliances behind my back, and did not cease when I warned him. I went quiet, I did not warn him that the guard was given… a helpful hint… to the materials needed for his prosecution. I remained quiet and offered no binding to the soulstone I held in hand like I had before, and I watched him be hung.
Ren knows the ways to silence me, which are very inappropriate to share in this conversation.
Oh, and getting my nose broken.
That works just as well.
nfornihilism asked: "I don't much like Shadowmancers, but you're a Rider. Black and Red is stronger than, well, blood. But still; demons. Torn on the matter. What I'm trying to say is that I'll tolerate your 'pets', if only they submit to a trial of physical skill. Long-running, bare-knuckled boxing, knife fighting - your choice. Should I win, I never see those malformed abominations in my presence again. You win and, uh. I don't kill them. Deal?" - Illithias
Sad thing is? She’s very serious in this reply. How about you kill her instead and tolerate the remainder?
Regardless, we’re still deciding.
Anonymous asked: Hi there! I really hope you can help us. My frog, I'll just call him Azure, is a constant companion and I love him dearly. The thing is he doesn't always like being a frog, he thinks he could help me more being something else. I love him just the way he is, but he wants me to ask you if you know of any way he can become a demon?
Hmm, well, as you can see with the volunteers, his options run with paste, or consuming demons in hopes of absorbing their fel energy… just ends messily mind you, or receiving the blessing of Sargeras, cementing the transformation with consuming the essence of a very powerful warlock.
I suggest getting the jar of paste, writing ‘fel’ above it, letting him read it, knock him out and go nuts with the glue, tiny horns, dried out bat wings and possibly a mouse tail.
viridiant asked: It seems like your demons are practically family. Aren't you worried they'll betray you someday? I mean, they're demons!
Let me tell you a secret. And I’ll tell you no lies.
In a warlock’s trials, we seek out what we desire the most, power, influence, knowledge, revenge.
I wanted a family. One that would not leave me, one that would not betray me. I’m certain they thought me mad, but regardless, I was given Beltip and as they say, the rest was history.
At least the published edition, the unpublished is this…
Our bargain is this, so long as I live, they are free to do as they wish within limit, as many of my number are quick to establish dominance over their demons with displays of cruelty and their borrowed power, I offered one of the few things they desire the most in their servitude. Freedom and choice.
If I die, the bargain is void, they return to the Nether, back to their torment, back to the chance of being sent to a new master. Would any servant with an ounce of sanity risk that when they are given that freedom for so little in return?
Yes, while they live, I am to walk a very narrow path, one of which can easily consume me and harm those around me. But sometimes, the prize far outweighs the risks, even if that risk is my life.
Than again, I’m generally considered to be mad.
Anonymous asked: Pick a random guildmate and tell us what you think about them.
Hallucinations aside. It’s hard to pick any of the Riders, because I have yet to meet any of their number that has a certain flaw that causes me to dislike them, or I don’t know them well enough to cast judgement. Duugvilder is a fine gnome and mage. Bricu and Threnn are wonderful parents with an adorable daughter that fills even me with the urge to spoil the child. Lorelli is as fine with a blade as she is with her manners in the time we have spoken. And Uthas scares me to death. Far too many to give glowing reviews to.
…
Anonymous asked: Have you ever considered renouncing your warlock state? Perhaps trying something a little less morally challenging? Thievery or politics, or something...
You know, I tried that when I first came to Stormwind after the passing of my Grandmere and the Night Watch chasing me off her property for unpaid taxes. Worked as an herbalist for the church, wore clothing that spoke of nothing to the art of demon calling, stuck to the magics that could easily pass for the conjuring of Mages, made a bit of a coin on the side spying and reporting on a few criminal activities occurring in the city. I, for all matters, was trying to be someone else.
That’s actually how I met my first husband. And you know what it taught me?
Firstly, that there are people in this world that are worse than I could ever be. That, and some people aren’t phased at taking a swing at members of the clergy. Had my damnable nose broken merely for trying to step in to stop a very… spirited… conversation.
Regardless, politics are for the few that fail at doing anything worthwhile to their name but are quite fine at flapping their jaws, and I might still be able to climb trees like a monkey, but picking a lock or pocket is a bit hard when you can hardly feel your fingers.
I did think I made a fine Madame though.
Though don’t think I could go back to that profession, ruined a few families names when I retired and black-mailed for a bit of… seed money.
Regardless, I accept what I am and I prefer to be myself far more than anyone else, why spend the rest of my days alone, miserable and trying to be anything other than that?
