The Abbey

[Vanitypirate]

THE DARKEST ROLEPLAY: ABBEY

"Gilded icons and dogmatic rituals: for some, a tonic against the bloodshed."


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Here is where you will post interactions that take place in the abbey and its attached rooms, such as the transept and flagellation hall.

[Kidney]

A sunlit glade, a endless expanse of green hills and wisps of former followers of the Light. It was how Tod imagined a place like Heaven. A reflective, clear lake sat upon rounded river stones next to him. Tod looked at himself, a wind-made silhouette of himself. Had he died? And passively moved on to a perfect replica of his Heaven?
No.
He had work to do.

Tod awoke with a powerful inhale of air, rising up his head, now damp, still not dry from the steam, and slicked back quite nicely, not a lock out of place. He rose from the now lukewarm waters of the tub, legs wavering as his pruned toes pushed his feet forward, arising out of the water a newer, cleaner man than before. He feared he had missed or been late to the dinner at sunset, and quickly ran to his clothes, putting them on the way he imagined his "formal wear" would be.

He turned towards a reflective surface, staring at himself.\

What stood there was abstract, just the way Tod liked it.

His shirt was open at the collar, the three buttons that would hold it closed around ones neck undone, allowing a glimpse of the tattooing on his collarbone and chest. His hair remained slicked, and his pants were slightly higher than normal, lifting the ends of the pant legs up to just barely above his boots, and each of Tod's strides revealed a flash of pearl-white sock. His boots had been cleaned with a towel and water, their deep brown leather quality now more presentable. The shortness of the sleeves on Tod's tunic showed his arm tattoos, going down to mid forearm and going up to meet with the rest of his full-body art piece. He looked down at himself, devoid of coat and cross, and found himself to be normal looking. To be without his divine focus, his lucky sphere or his only armor, it made him imagine what life would be like if his father and mother cared enough to raise him.

With a quickness Tod wish he could comprehend, he was outside the Abbey, staring at the sky. It was not Sunset, but close.

And so arrived a Tod smile on a Tod face.

Clean as whistle, and with time to spare.

To the Streets of The Hamlet!

[relentless]

"Grrraaaceee... are you sure? I don't want to make you, uncomfortable or... yeah."
Duval drawled on behind her as he was pulled along, holding onto her hand as if it were his mother taking him to school. Finally, after hugging it out in the stairwell, they had entered the hallway, where Grace was pulling him along to her room. To Duval... the thought of sleeping with another woman, without doing anything intimate was... well, strange for Duval. It was usual thing for Duval to do when accompanied by a sleeping partner, but now? He just feels off.

He trailed behind her close, stumbling a little as the alcohol began to impair his movement, yet his mind seemed mostly intact despite the bottle of wine he had consumed.

[Outisakanobody]

"Do not be difficult." Grace says, squeezing Duvall's hand a bit, but smiling over her shoulder at him in a drunken manner. She managed to fumble her door open, yank Duvall inside, close the door, and begin pushing him toward the bed.

[relentless]

"Wh-wha?"
Duval blundered as he was pushed toward the bed, backstepping slowly as she advanced upon him. Was she... no. Heavens no. Surely she wasn't coming onto him this easy? Or was she infact a predator as well? Duval didn't know, a mixture of emotion seemed to pile on him at once.

"Sooo this is a nice room! Qu-quite homely!"
Duval rapid fired at her with a semi confused smile, glancing around the room to avoid looking at Grace, and anything else that may excite the imagination.

[Outisakanobody]

"Take your shoes off." Grace mumbles, fiddling with her own footwear andmostly ignoring Duvall, like usual.

[relentless]

Thank. God. He was mistaken afterall. No lewd actions here. A heavy sigh of relief left Duvals mouth, and he rubbed his hands together and chuckled.

"Right o!"
Duval says happily as he sits himself down on the bed and begins to fiddle with the buckles of his boot in order to loosen it, and then take it off without damaging the footwear.

"So... where am I sleeping? In that chair?"

[Outisakanobody]

Shoes removed and left casually laying on the floor, Grace all but tackles Duvall into a prone position on the bed. Shestretches out some, then snuggles up tightly to the man and let's her eyes close. "Goodnight, Nick." she murmurs.

[relentless]

Duval had only taken one of his boots off before he was rugby tackled into the bed. He was unsure what had even happened, whether someone had barged in and charged them with a sword or whether it was just a blanket. It was apparently neither, after he noticed Grace laying atop of him with fiery hair draped down his overcoat. He was, relieved, to say the least. Hell, Duval was surprised he was relieved that nothing sexual had occured. Though he was none the less pleased with the way he was sleeping.

"Mhm, mhm.. G'night, Grace."
Duval hummed pleasantly, staring up at the ceiling for a moment with his arms wrapped around Graces waist, before he closed his eyes quietly as the warmth of her body and the comfiness of the bed he laid upon drifted him to a quiet sleep.Yet... it was much harder than it usually was to fall asleep. Everything felt comfortable. So why wasn't he sleeping? He couldn't really place it really, since it appeared to be a number of reasons revolving around the topic of 'platonic' engagement.

[Outisakanobody]

Then they had sex [fade to black]

[relentless]

lies they're very responsible platonic eggos

[rumsztyk]

Ibrahim said nothing, trying his best not to undermine his position further after that nasty forced slip-up. He let Courcy exit, following her with his eyes to the very door. Once they were shut, he addressed Florence, though not looking at her directly. "How very... nice of her."

He cleared his throat and moved on to the more interesting topic, hoping to plunge his demon's prank into the depths of oblivion. "I believe you had questions, doctor?" he asks, in the same indifferent tone, as if nothing happened.

[Vanitypirate]

Courcy glowered at the woman as she stuck her arms out and waddled closer. As studied as the doctor was meant to be, the hellion regarded her regarded her as simple. Even so, the ginger eased into the inadequate attempt at a hug to hasten her own exit.
“Fine, fine. I’ll let you discuss your… whatever it was.”
She released Florence as quickly as she had embraced her, sighing and glancing between the beak mask and the man with the skull once again. Gleaning no hints about their topic of ‘magic’, she began to turn away. Planning in her head – through the door, out of the under-croft, the long abbey hallways, and finally to the exit – she was ready to escape the building.
“Careful what you say. Wouldn’t want either of you losing your heads.”

---

Ibrahim said nothing, trying his best not to undermine his position further after that nasty forced slip-up. He let Courcy exit, following her with his eyes to the very door. Once they were shut, he addressed Florence, though not looking at her directly. "How very... nice of her."

He cleared his throat and moved on to the more interesting topic, hoping to plunge his demon's prank into the depths of oblivion. "I believe you had questions, doctor?" he asks, in the same indifferent tone, as if nothing happened.

---

Florence stiffly nodded her beaky head, watching, too, as Courcy made her retreat. She was rather satisfied with herself and the execution of her hug. The awkwardness, Courcy's discomfort, were entirely lost on the Crowgazer.

Regardless, she silently reminded herself to report her progress to Lekalis.

"Yes, I have many questions."

She was teeming with giddiness, for all her monotone; an end solution finally loomed in sight just when she most direly needed it. It was the culmination of more than a year's work.

"I would like to arrange an appointment with you and my patient, if you would allow it." She steepled her gloved fingers, tapping them together, the only betrayal of her anticipation.

"It would be wondrous. You may save a life."

[rumsztyk]

With a mild satisfaction he acknowledged the mutual respect between them: magic met mundane. His hands connected and hid in the long sleeves in front of him. Ibrahim turned to face Florence, focused greatly on keeping Xuul in check - he would not stand another blunder.

"Saving life is what we do, though our means are different, doctor." He bowed deeply. "I look forward to the opportunity." he spoke with force, with resolve. "When?"

[Vanitypirate]

"I am unsure. I must first acquire consent from the patient."

Florence turned, satisfied, to face the desk, where she located her ink-stained, undyed robes. She hefted the great, heavy robe up to examine it, before the made to fit one arm into the sleeve.

"I shall return here tomorrow morning with him, if he allows. Or I shall return to you with more information, while maintaining my patient's anonymity."

She buttoned up her robes, after shifting the cowl out of the way, somewhat, and nodded,

"Speak not of this to anyone." She told him, "This research is perilous, and others seek to slay the patient if they cannot tap this curse's power."