Current Events in RP!

**Thanks to Ghaar, who reminds me that I am indeed missing something... a super sekrit plot involving Astrani, the brickwit troll. However, part of being sekrit means I'm not spilling any details! Neener!

I have several long story arcs in the works for two of my characters. It's slow work and I am lazy, so it's just being pieced together in spurts and I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to finish them, let alone do them justice. I'm going to try, though!

Since it's hard to keep track of everything, I'm just gonna post what's happening with each of my active characters and what sort of project to expect from them.

• A slim file, obviously new, and containing extremely sparse information on one Adelaide "Skulley" Skelton now sits on Agent Jeremiah Newhall's desk.
• After narrowly avoiding a run-in with Booty Bay guards, Skulley is taking a breather before her next big job... a hunt for CURSED TROLL TREASURE! Yarr. Does she know it's cursed? Not yet!
• Unbeknownst to Skulley, an account of her life as Adelaide is being constructed by a certain ham-fisted wielder of words. Don't worry, it's a very happy story. Up until everyone dies.

• After class one evening, Thiyenn eats a massive meal of banana bread, goat cheese, pickles, chocolate cake and an entire jar of mustard. This leads to a very public heaving of guts and embarrassing revelation to nearly half of her friends, teachers and academic peers that didn't already know or guess that she was pregnant.
• Professor Arrens Caltrains, the headmaster of Stormwind University, is skilled in shoving his foot in his mouth. When he asked where her husband was, Thiyenn lied. Apparently the nuances of her relationship with the father of her child and his current whereabouts aren't meant to be discussed in front of half of the student body (and the professor's bride-to-be).
• But hey, Thiyenn now has a Super Special Job, that being the crafting of Miss Aely's wedding dress. Take THAT, Delion!
• Having been encouraged by an instructor to improve her writing (and more importantly, handwriting--she prints no better than a child), Thiyenn has taken up the task of putting down what she remembers about growing up with the Darkmoon tribe. It's good for taking her mind off more recent events. It's also her first foray into introspection, so I expect some personal conflict.

• Libby, the Rainsinger, is engaged (!) to elf (!) hunter Fenniel (!!), the original geeky belf hunter. They are getting married (!) in a ceremony (!) in Mulgore this May. Firael has been roped into the role of Best Man and will be sporting some fashionable tribal garb (read: leather straps). Oops, I forgot to (!) that.

• On the verge of a breakthrough in eye replacement technology, Ysani has put on the weight she lost during her Haydren-terror phase, mostly due to sitting around working on projects all day with Firael and Fenniel, the wonder twins.
• It's been a while since there was a frenzy of speculation on the particulars of Yissy's relationship with Firael, however, several members of the PoL tease her privately. She is adamant on the point that they are Just Friends, and, in fact, everything seems to be quite fine with her and Keilos.
• Dir creeps her the hell out. Quit staring at her tits, already!
• Where the hell IS Haydren, anyway? God only knows what sort of terrible things he's planning. One hopes he's given up, but I think we all know that's not the case.

• Ambika is readjusting to her life as a troll and seems pleased with that particular development, but grows increasingly distant. Her quest to gain more power, as far as she's concerned, has yielded paltry gains; this may lead her to new and dangerous paths as the world moves on.

• Sergeant Harker has traded the relentless heat of Hellfire for the chill winds of the North and oh MAN is she pissed. Her attitude leaves something to be desired, but she's working hard (and dressing warm), which gets her at least a modicum of respect from her peers and superiors. Something exceedingly strange happened to her the other night, perhaps she'll tell us about it soon...?

I've got a lot on my plate, certainly, and I really need to learn to stop biting off more than I can chew. Here's hoping that all these and more will get proper documentation. Did I miss anything?

RP: I Like Turtles Pt. 4

There wasn't much response from the Farstrider, just a groan; he'd actually hit his head pretty hard on the stone floor. Mister Gramms, meanwhile, was contentedly chewing on whatever was in his food bowl across the room. Ysani slipped her hand under Firael's head and murmured something quiet under her breath. A bit of warm light lit the back of his skull for a moment, then faded away.

Firael's eyes rolled back into their proper place and opened slowly. Just over him was a worried looking Ysani and -- oh dear, an open necked shirt. He didn't quite have another faint in him at this point. "Y... Ysani..." he rolled his head to look to the side, the color in his cheeks returning very quickly.

"Light, are you okay? I don't think you cracked your skull or anything but all the same it sounded like it hurt." Ysani peeled up one of his eyelids with her thumb, checking his pupils. She was vaguely aware of the faintly greasy feel of his hair against her hand. He smelled like an engine block close up.

Firael in the meanwhile was busy trying to look anywhere but at her. Not only was she over top of him, but her shirt was hanging open, and he wasn't sure how long he'd been out but -- Yep, she still had no skirt on. "Ysani... your... you're..." He was looking off to the side, very deliberately not at her.

"Umm." Ysani looked down at herself, red-cheeked and assessing her current state of undress as she sat on her heels on the cold concrete floor. "I don't suppose you have a spare pair of pants, or a towel, or... well, anything that I might be able to cover up with would be great, really."

Firael thought about this, his head turned the other way. He had lots of oil rags, a couple of spare changes of his own clothes, which were probably a size too big for her. "W-well..." he was having trouble finding his words, speaking quiet and mumbled was much easier for him. "There-might-be-some-in-my-bags-or... towelinthebathroom."

"Okay. You stay there, I don't want you to hurt anything else." Ysani stood and went to the loft's tiny bathroom in search of a towel. There were three dirty ones piled on the floor. A slightly damp one hung from a hook on the back of the door. "Umm." She looked at it, then at the bag on the floor next to his bed, then back again. She decided to try the bag before going for Wet Towel, and crouched down to paw through the contents. Mostly odd bits of engineering equipment with a few wadded-up articles of clothing, it was a short search. She tugged out two pairs of pants and stood, holding them out and looking them over. One was in desperate need of a wash; the other was speckled with shop grease but looked serviceable. She tugged them on and held them up at the waist with her hands. "Do you have a belt?"

Firael had managed to sit up, but was as of yet unable to look at her directly. Mister Gramms on the other hand raised his head from his food bowl, looking at Ysani, almost seeming to be grinning at her. "Just... just the one I'm wearing. I've got some motor belts, b-but I don't think those would work."

"I'll uh, use some wire. There's plenty of it lying around anyway." She managed to produce a cheerful smile and darted for the nearest work table, plucking a length of scrap wire from it to thread between two of the belt loops and cinch them tight. Then she twisted the wire, wrapped up the loose ends and pulled the hem of her shirt down over the waistband. The pants were definitely scruffy, and baggy, but it was a lot easier to look directly at Firael with her cherry-printed pink panties covered up. "Okay! That's that then, I guess." She returned to his side and offered her hand. "Think you can sit up?"

He gazed up, blinked, and found himself still unable to look at her directly, instead extending his hand to let her help him. It was then he caught sight of the pants and the wire belt, but what was most funny about them was how baggy they were. He tried to stifle a laugh as he stood up. "I-I'm sorry," he brushed himself off, giving him something to look at that wasn't her. "M-Mister Gramms is usually a very well behaved workshop assistant. I... I don't know what got into him."

On one wall of the loft was a large window with a view out over Eversong woods. The sun was setting on the side of the workshop and the darkening woods beyond the window had a projected, softening glow to them. "Oh wow," Ysani breathed. She crept up to the window and watched the sunset turn the horizon into a blazing pink and orange fire, backlighting the trees and making them seem downright unreal. "It's so pretty."

Firael wasn't quite sure what she was referring to at first, "Oh, that, th-the sun, it gets in my eyes when I'm working in the evenings a lot."

Ysani peeled her eyes away from the view and looked at him, again, to make sure he wasn't teasing her. He wasn't. "Um. It's getting late, I should probably head back. I need to ask Kat if she can fix my skirt..."

"Oh uh yeah... would you... would you like... uh..." he looked at her awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "You can drop the pants off whenever. G-goodnight."

She smiled at him and hitched up her (his?) pants slightly. "Thanks for showing me your place, it's pretty great. I'll have to drop by again soon. I can bring my projects over to show you!"

"I-I'd like that!"

Then, with a single suspicious glance at Mister Gramms, Ysani was gone.

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This was really fun to write up. They're a couple of adorable nerds and I heart them.

RP: I Like Turtles Pt. 3

"I guess not."

"S-so..."

Ysani's hands strayed over the heating coils, the polished metal case, the screws and widgets and the spring-loaded toast-popping mechanism. This she picked up and held up to her face, pushing it into action with a faint sproing. "Neat," she murmured. It didn't take long for her attention to be diverted again by the next table over, which appeared to be papered with various schematics. She pored over them one by one, tilting her head at some, lips moving silently as she read them over.

As Firael was busy fiddling with the pieces of the toaster battery, Mister Gramms came over to an otherwise preoccupied Ysani, extending his long neck and putting it on the table edge. He gave her a look, then began tugging schematics off the table with his mouth. Ysani wasn't quite sure what the turtle was doing, other than making a mess by dragging all the papers off the table. As soon as Firael heard the commotion he jumped up, dropping the piece he was currently holding. "No Mister Gramms, bad!" Mister Gramms gave his master a lazy look and stopped.

The turtle's shuffling of papers had unearthed even more schematics below the surface, and Ysani couldn't help but take in all of those, either. Her darting eyes locked onto a curious drawing and she turned her head slightly. "What's that..?"

"M-mister Gramms is usually very well behaved!" He stood on the other side of the turtle from Ysani. "Th-that?" Ysani was looking at what looked like the schematics for cylindrical object. It was actually his last commission work from Bizzlework's Pains and Pleasures. "I-it's nothing!" He snatched up the paper, trying frantically to figure out what to do with the schematic. At that same moment, Mister Gramms began tugging on the hem of Ysani's skirt.

Unfortunately for her, said skirt was loose; many sleepless days and nights blocked out with potent medicinal tea had also robbed her of her appetite, many meals' worth, and she'd gotten a little too slender in places. All over, really, if you wanted to be honest about it; and as the fabric yanked against her hip there was a tiny tearing sound, followed by a whoosh, then Ysani's skirt lay on the floor in a ring around her feet. Mister Gramms chewed idly on the hem of his prize. Ysani turned a brilliant shade of red and simply stared down at the turtle, too shocked to move.

Firael's jaw near unhitched, his eyes wide, the schematic falling from his hands. The two just stood there for a few moments, awkward silence thick in the room, aside from the quiet noise of Mister Gramms chewing on fine mageweave. Firael was suddenly conflicted with whether he should be looking away or scolding his turtle and trying to take the skirt back from it. As such, he did a series of turning away and then back towards Mister Gramms, only to see a pair of legs and then spin back around. "I'm I uh Umm Mister Gramms I'm very... Ohmygosh Ysani I'm so sorry I... ohdear MISTER GRAMMS GIVE HER HER SKIRT BACK."

After a serious (and largely ineffectual) effort to regain her composure, Ysani was at last able to stoop down and pull her skirt up off the floor, hoisting it over the seat of her decidedly pink underpants. Her face was still glowing red as she tugged at it, trying to pull the fraying hem out of the giant turtle's jaws. Mister Gramms continued to try to tug on her skirt. Firael had taken ahold of the large turtle's shell and was trying to tug him in the opposite direction, mostly in vain. There was a short ripping sound, then a pause and much longer and louder rip as the skirt gave along a seam... then a thud as Ysani landed hard on her backside, skirt ripped into two ragged pieces and flapping off to either side of her bare legs. She whimpered.

Mister Gramms backed into Firael, knocking him back on his rear as well. This was a good time for a turtle to leave the two Sin'dorei and go to his food bowl. Firael blinked as he looked forward, his cheeks now matching Ysani's. "I... uh." This was a bit too much for the Farstrider to handle, and he fell back on the hard floor of the shop.

The redhead scrambled over, skirtless, and gently shook the Farstrider's shoulder. "Firael? Are you okay?"

RP: I Like Turtles Pt. 2

The shop was actually something in a back alley, and as she nearly pulled him right past it he tugged her in the right direction. The Farstriders obviously hadn't given him prime real estate in the square. He went back into the alley and started to climb a thin set of metal stairs. "There's a loading dock if I need to get something big in, but this is the people entrance!" The staircase was just big enough for a turtle to go up, as Mister Gramms followed.

"Well... no wonder I've never seen it before. It's um," Ysani searched for a polite word, "...secluded?" She followed him up the steps, stuck behind the rather slowly-moving turtle, taking advantage of the wait to eat the last of her food. She wasn't coordinated enough to use the sticks for this last bit and had to tip the box back and scrape the rest of the noodles and the bits of sprouts and nuts that still clung to them into her mouth. When she lowered her head, cheeks stuffed, Firael was looking at her. She turned pink and tried not to laugh and spray food everywhere.

"It's just inside here, but I warned you, it's not much." He stopped, realizing he was staring at a puffy cheeked Ysani. It was kind of cute. He turned on his heel suddenly, his cheeks colored, and swung the door open, hurrying inside. He called back outside. "Watch the first step, it's painted yellow for a reason!" The door wasn't flush with the floor, rather it was a couple of feet above it, and Mister Gramms took the single step carefully.

The inside of the shop was actually quite spacious, and was very much like a loft. All around the shop there were work benches, table saws, scattered with tools, large machines and plenty of spare parts for all sorts of gadget and machine abound. Everything was messy and completely unorganized. Scattered throughout the room, mixed with various wrenches and screwdrivers were noodle boxes. Lots of them. It was clear that a bachelor and his turtle lived here. Strangely the one part of the room that seemed to be well kept was a corner with two beds, one rectangular and one a very large basket with tattered pillows in it, and a couple of bowls, much like very large dog bowls. Beside the bed was a door which led to a very small room with a toilet and a hanging water pipe with a drain on the floor below it. No curtain was present in front of the crude shower.

The damage from the thugs was still evident. Against the wall in another corner, near the loading door, were some broken looking machines. Several of the machines that could be fixed, were, and otherwise had only damaging marks left on them. Several newer machines were present around the shop.

Ysani gawped at the cluttered space. "You eat a LOT of noodl--" A table littered with shiny mithril parts caught her attention and she swooped in on them with a hushed "ooooh", bent over the mess to try and identify all the different pieces.

"That's the super industrial powered toaster, guaranteed to last for years! The one I showed you in the magazine at the Legerdemain. It's using the same power source as my last project."

She put a finger on her chin and sucked in her lower lip, one curious green eye darting over the litter of metal bits, then picked up a small, cylindrical casing that was heavy for its size and had a trio of wires protruding from a small sealed hole in the end. "Is this it? It's kind of odd, for a toaster battery. What sort of project was it?"

"Oh uh, uh. It was some of those massage things, you know, you put it on your back and it massages you. Yeah." Firael's cheeks were only a bit pink. "But I've modified them to generate heat instead of vibration. I'm hoping to nicen the shop up, but for that I have to clean it up first and..." He watched Ysani and she turned the motor over in her hands. His cheeks went from pink to dark in seconds. Ysani didn't notice.

"It's kind of a neat idea, keeping it housed in a water-tight casing like this. Although that's probably going a bit overboard, considering that a toaster isn't likely to come in contact with liquids." She looked up at him and paused a moment, tilting her head at his rather obvious discomfort. "Er... at least, I've never come across a waterproof toaster... are you all right?"

The momentary distraction was enough for him. "W-well, you know how dropping a t-toaster in the bathtub is dangerous right because of the power source and water? This fixes that!" He nodded, very convincingly.

"But... why would you have a toaster in the bathtub?" Her pale face turned up to his, she searched for signs he might be pulling her leg. She detected nothing of the sort. "Um. And you don't even have a tub. But I suppose someone might really want to eat toast while they bathe?"

"Well... toasters just come with that warning not to drop them in the bathtub, they won't have to include that any more I guess?" He gave an awkward smile. She just stared at him for a solid (and uncomfortable) thirty seconds before taking a deep breath and leaning back over the table.

RP: I Like Turtles Pt. 1

Here's another joint effort. James plays the part of Firael in this little fic, in which Ysani decides that something is interesting enough to override her fear of leaving the safety of Dalaran.

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Ysani stared wide-eyed at the night elf noodle chef. An expanse of stretchy dough twisted and roiled between his outspread hands, and he eyed her lazily as he repeatedly pulled the long strands out and doubled them on themselves. The mushed end of dough trimmed, he dropped the finished noodles into the bubbling pot of water at hand, and while they cooked he filled a large metal bowl with a smooth, steaming sauce that smelled incredibly tangy and rich to her underfed nose. Dipping a dented colander into the pot, he caught the hot pasta and slopped it into the bowl, tossing it all together with a wicked-looking fork as big as Ysani's arm. A bit of chopped nuts, sprouted beans and a pungent green leaf went over all, and he divided the sum between two clever paper boxes. Finally he jabbed a pair of cheap wooden sticks in each one and pushed them across the counter. "Four gold."

She dug in her pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. "I didn't even know this place was here. That's a pretty neat trick. And it smells really good." Ysani smiled up at Firael, then peered down into her container. "What are the sticks for?"

"You eat with them, like this." He held his chopsticks perfectly and picked up some noodles with them. "See? Now you try!"

Glancing doubtfully between his hand and her own, she imitated the curl of his fingers and almost got it well enough to pull a few noodles up to her mouth. They flopped back into the box and she blew hair out of her eyes, adjusted her grip and tried again. Three noodles made it and she slurped them up. "MMMPH!" She chewed blissfully and swallowed, speaking again without food in her mouth this time. "It's so good! I've been missing out all this time!"

Firael clicked his two chopsticks together. "They're fantastic!" He managed to say through a mouthful of noodles. "So did you want to see the shop now? It's not much, but if you really wanted to..."

"Um. I suppose I could. I mean... it's safe right? Is it in Silvermoon? Hopefully near a guard post or something...?" She crammed another mouthful of noodles in her face and chewed, closing her eyes with an expression near ecstasy. "How is it even possible for something to taste so good? They're almost as good as muffins."

"Of course it's safe, it's in Farstrider square, the safest place in all of Azeroth. The Farstriders watch out for the elves and keep us safe, it's why I'm an initiate with them!" He shoved a bunch of noodles in his mouth, they hung down comically from his lips as he looked at her for a response.

Ysani stopped smiling. "Oh." She sucked up a stray noodle from her chopsticks and stared down into her dinner. "I don't know if..." A scowl wrinkled her brow for a moment, then she straightened up and lifted her pointed chin. "Certainly it's safe. We should go." She paused. "You... have a noodle on your face. Right here--no, here.... little to the-- there, you got it."

"To the Silvermoon portal?" He would have grabbed her by the hand and dragged her to it, but he had his hands full of noodles, and was rubbing one off his face at that. He sucked it off the end of his finger and started off towards the portal, Mister Gramms walking beside of him.

"Yeah." She followed, noodles tucked carefully in the crook of her arm. On the other side of the portal, she made sure her food had survived the trip. Yep, still delicious. She forgot for a moment that maybe she ought to be afraid and simply sucked up bundles of saucy pasta, much to the annoyance of the magisters talking about important stuff nearby.

"And you've never read Engineering Digest? I've got so many back issues at my place it will make your head spin!" He slurped up some more noodles, Firael at least was quickly reaching the bottom of his box of noodles. "I've got some other mags, but they're not as good, they're just in it for the profit you know, they always feature these pictures of scantily clad gals in front of the machine you're trying to look at. Who reads those?"

Ysani blushed. "I guess goblins do, I've seen those in all their shops. ... Actually, that reminds me of this one time--nevermind, you don't want to hear that story." She precluded any attempt he might make at asking any questions about said incident by stuffing her mouth with more noodles.

"Stories can be good, but if you don't want to tell it that's fine." He pushed the last mouthful of his noodles into his mouth and pointed his chopsticks ahead, down a street of Farstrider square. The pointing came a good bit before his voice did, slurping and swallowing the noodles before speaking. "It's just down there!"

"It's really embarrassing, I'd rather not. I want to see your shop, anyway." Ysani stuck the chopsticks back in the box and gripped Firael's wrist, dragging him down the street. She suddenly wanted to get out of plain sight, and in a hurry. "Which one is it?"