He's rock hard, baby
0With 2 votes
As seen by Sibatti. Posted under Aetolia as a Funnies log.What happens when Sibatti tries to have a little fun out of the enemy.
Submitted 1 Feb 2012. 217 views in total, 1.95 per day.Ruined temple within a lush rainforest.
A dark brown root sigil is here. A long wooden arrow lies on the floor here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southeast, south, southwest, west, northwest, up, down, in, and out.
>northwest
You begin to slowly clamber over the rubble that blocks your way.
North of Trees. (road) (lost) (Prelatorian Highway.) [-Slyphe-]
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Countless tiny spikes litter the ground. The area has been flooded with sand. A small wooden sign is here. A dirty bird has made some dirty droppings here. A shimmering ball of energy hovers here above a multi-colored coral pedestal ornamented with seashells. A small sign points into a market stall. A massive golem made of clay stands here. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way north. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way southeast. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way south. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way southwest. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way in. A large sandstorm rages here. A cloaked figure is riding on Zhara, a majestic gargoyle. He wields a menacing flail in his left hand and an elegant crozier in his right.
You see exits leading north, southeast, south, southwest, and in.
You suddenly perceive the vague outline of an aura of rebounding around Tyrak.
Hundreds of tiny stones fall from the sky, pelting the area.
Your body is battered by the falling stones.
Health Lost: 202, blunt.
You say to a cloaked figure, "You made a mess."
A cloaked figure nods his head emphatically.
Hundreds of tiny stones fall from the sky, pelting the area.
Your body is battered by the falling stones.
Health Lost: 202, blunt.
The corners of a cloaked figure's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
You say to a cloaked figure, "And that isn't nice, ow!"
You say, "Stop that."
A cloaked figure says, "What?"
Comprehension flashes across a cloaked figure's face.
You say, "You're raining stones on me."
A cloaked figure nods his head emphatically.
You say, "It isn't very friendly of you."
You frown at a cloaked figure.
A cloaked figure says, "I'm not typically a friendly guy."
You say, "Well, I think you're -darling-."
You flutter your eyelashes at a cloaked figure.
A cloaked figure says, "Oh really?"
You say, "Mmhm."
A cloaked figure says, "What makes you think that?"
You say, "Don't think I haven't seen those fleeting glimpses in the unstable zones."
You say, "I mean, I know it's difficult to resist something -this- adorable..."
A cloaked figure asks you, "How did you know what I was thinking?"
He is a dexterous Earthen, and is a tall, imposing being. At least seven feet in height, he possesses two wicked, near draconic horns that crown his head, tapered ears and pale, sharp eyes. Dark, smoky skin contrasts with his pale eyes, as much as his black hair stands out against his flesh. His features are defined and his figure something athletic and muscular. Patches of pebbled scaling spread arbitrarily across his skin, the colouring matching the hue of the draconic wings that sprout from his back. Fitting for the rest of his appearance, predatory, claw-like nails elongate his fingers. He is wearing:
a bunch of artifacts
You say to a cloaked figure, "I can recognize unrequited love when I see it."
A cloaked figure asks you, "Who do you feel this way about?"
You suck thoughtfully on your teeth.
You say, "Guess!"
A cloaked figure looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
A cloaked figure says, "Well. I haven't seen Kiyotan lately, soo. I'm boggled."
Frowning, you say, "Kiyotan is not my lover."
A cloaked figure looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
A cloaked figure says, "Wonder who it could be."
A cloaked figure asks you, "Are you going to tell me or going to let me sit here not knowing?"
Using the design for reference, you take up your tools and construct decoration.
You give an intricately-folded paper flower decoration to Tyrak.
You give a cloaked figure a peck on the cheek.
You say to a cloaked figure, "Yer cute."
You begin to wield a testis slice in your left hand.
You wink knowingly.
>southeast
The Prelatorian Highway. (road) (Prelatorian Highway.) [-Slyphe-]
The stars twinkle in the clear night sky.
You see exits leading east and northwest.
<< A few minutes later.. >>
A homing pigeon flutters in towards you, gliding over you as it drops a letter into your hands before flapping away once more.
>letterlist
**********************************[ Letters ]**********************************
ID Sender Recipient Months left
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
26733 Tyrak Sibatti 10
*******************************************************************************
You open an elegant white letter.
This letter is made of the finest quality paper, and is rolled into a cylinder, with a red ribbon to keep it from unfurling.
It has 10 months of usefulness left.
It weighs 1 ounce(s).
An elegant white letter is holding:
"lily97766" a yellow lily
It is holding 1 objects.
You tell Tyrak, "I -knew- you cared!"
Tyrak tells you, "A gift exchange, if you will."
You tell Tyrak, "I'm going to tell all my friends!"
Tyrak tells you, "They will never believe you."
You tell Tyrak, "You think they wouldn't believe a face like this?"
Tyrak tells you, "When it deals with a guy likes this, I do not."
You tell Tyrak, "Ooh, think you're big cojones, huh?"
>farsee tyrak
You close your eyes momentarily and extend the range of your vision, seeking out the presence of Tyrak.
You see that Tyrak is at A desolate ruin in The tourbillion wasteland.
>honours tyrak
Lord Tyrak Qefin
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
General:
He is 97 years old.
He was born on the 3rd of Haernos, year 255 of the Midnight Age.
He is ranked 39th in Aetolia.
He is a Terran Master in the Fellowship of Explorers.
He is the Champion of the Divine Order of Slyphe, the Maelstrom.
He is a member of the clan called 'House Cardinalis'.
He is the clan head of the clan called 'The Qefin Legacy'.
He is a member of the clan called 'Mazzion System'.
He is a Captain in the army of Bloodloch.
He is a mentor and able to take on proteges.
He is considered to be approximately 85% of your might.
He is an enemy of your city.
He is a member of the Resistance against Drakkenmont.
Fame:
He has slain Ivaryen, Keeper of the Glade.
He once served as champion of a Divine Order.
He has aided the Shadow by destroying the Flame of Salura.
He has killed Zsarachnor, the Vampire Lord.
He has been elected to the ruling council of a city.
He has slain Vukub Ysin'zhu, the Ogre Baron.
He found a golden ticket during the Year 300 Carnival.
He captured the Hearts of Darkness throughout Aetolia.
He successfully defended Ciem from invaders.
He has brought salvation to the Chapel Gardens.
He has slain the empowered form of Marcello Relovec.
(Market): You say, "Delivering anonymous messages of love to the most wonderful man in the tourbillion wasteland, Tyrak! Send tells!"
Lin tells you, "What in the--."
Lin tells you, "Oh, why not. Tell him I want his body or something insipid."
You tell Tyrak, "Ooh. Someone wants your body!"
You tell Lin, "On it."
Lin tells you, "Umm, what does 'tourbillion' mean?"
You tell Lin, "I'm not sure."
Lin tells you, "You are very strange sometimes, Esry."
You tell Lin, "Ask him!"
You tell Lin, "It's where he retreats all of the time."
You tell Tyrak, "Someone anonymous says, "I don't know what tourbillion is but I love you.""
Moirean tells you, "Tell him that he can impale me with his stalagmite any day."
You tell Tyrak, "Oh, this one is feisty! "Tell him that he can impale me with his stalagmite any day"."
You tell Moirean, "Oh ho ho."
Moirean tells you, "And if he's good, maybe he'll get a little sand strip show."
Tyrak tells you, "Who would be saying something like that?"
You tell Tyrak, "The same anonymous person says, "And if he's good, maybe he'll get a little sand strip show"."
You tell Moirean, "Oh, that was awful! Awful puns!"
Moirean tells you, "It's ok. Words hurt him."
You tell Moirean, "I like it!"
You tell Tyrak, "I've been told words hurt you. What does that mean? Am I hurting you, poppet?"
Tyrak tells you, "I am unsure what that means really. I suppose it depends on who said it and what they said."
You tell Tyrak, "That would violate the spirit of the game! I couldn't do that, I just couldn't."
Tyrak tells you, "Well I haven't got an answer for you on that question then."
You tell Tyrak, "... what IS a tourbillion wasteland?"
Tyrak tells you, "It's my ruined wasteland that I have created."
You tell Tyrak, "You -created- your very own ruined wasteland?"
Tyrak tells you, "I do."
You tell Tyrak, "Lemme see."
Tyrak tells you, "Now what fun would that be? In the spirit of the game, I have to keep you going! I just do!"
You tell Tyrak, "Keep me going where?"
Tyrak tells you, "With your anonymous replies and your wanting in my wasteland."
You tell Tyrak, "I think you're secretly a friendly guy. You love it!"
Tyrak tells you, "I do enjoy the attention a little."
You tell Tyrak, "The anonymous requests seem to have died down a little. Strangely, they were all men."
You tell Tyrak, "Welp!"
Tyrak tells you, "Meh. Those words did hurt."
You tell Tyrak, "And we've now come full circle."
Tyrak tells you, "So we have."
You tell Tyrak, "So. Wasteland."
You tell Tyrak, "I'll give you a cooooookie."
<< Wandering back >>
North of Trees. (road) (Prelatorian Highway.) [-Slyphe-]
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. A small wooden sign is here. A dirty bird has made some dirty droppings here. A shimmering ball of energy hovers here above a multi-colored coral pedestal ornamented with seashells. A small sign points into a market stall. An improvised pack of bundled cloth and rope is here.
You see exits leading north, southeast, south, southwest, and in.
You tell Tyrak, "... no dice, hm?"
Tyrak tells you, "A cookie?"
You tell Tyrak, "Made with love."
Tyrak tells you, "I'm sure it is."
Tyrak enters from the south, riding Zhara, a majestic gargoyle.
He is followed by a clay golem.
You clap your hands together merrily.
Tyrak raises an eyebrow questioningly.
You say, "I knew you couldn't stand to be apart from me."
Tyrak says to you, "Is that what you think?"
Tapping her nose knowingly, you say, "Not what I think. It's what I -know-."
Tilting his head back Tyrak asks, "You going to tell me who this person you are in love with?"
You have emoted: Sibatti clasps her hands together, fingers intertwined, a look of undying devotion in her eyes. "Attention, gifts, a request for a private - albeit devastated and probably ugly - getaway, cookies freshly baked with love? Why darling, isn't it obvious?"
Nodding slowly but affirmatively, Tyrak says, "Putting it like that it is obvious, although, I'd still like to hear you say it. Perhaps our thoughts are inaccurate with the other."
You have emoted: Drawing her ivory tusk longbow from its position strapped across her back and clutching it to her breast, Sibatti drapes her other hand across her forehead in a dramatic swoon. "Do you remember that time I shot you down with an arrow, a scant year ago or so? Oh, how I -wished- for it to be a Heartstring Bow so that I might have captured YOUR heart, Tyrak Qefin!"
You have emoted: Sibatti feigns a regretful air. "But instead, all I captured was your life essence." She sniffles once, adding to the dramatics.
His eyes following the swift movement of the longbow in your hands, Tyrak grins almost imperceptibly, "Is that so? What has been stopping you then?" He shifts his bow in front of him and leans against it strategically, his eyes staying mostly level with yours.
You have emoted: Clinging to her bow guardedly, Sibatti's eyes widen and flutter rapidly. "For the SCANDAL it would cause, surely!" she exclaims, aghast. Her tail flips around behind her, waving in alarm.
"Scandal?" Tyrak lifts his left arm to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully, his right one leaning against the bow in front of him, "What sort of a scandal do you have in mind then?" His eyes dart down and sideways as your tail flicks behind you.
You have emoted: Sibatti releases a bloodspattered ivory tusk longbow, the heavy weapon clattering to the road loudly, and brings both of her hands up to cup her face. "Now now," she chides. "I may look like the most divine piece of ass you've laid eyes on in all of your ninety-seven years, but these curves come with a -price-. I could never love an Earthen, it would be political -suicide-!"
Straightening his broad back and rolling his shoulders slowly, Tyrak smirks, his eyes betraying his amusement, "I see you have been following my birthdays, I am flattered."
"As far as an Earthen," Tyrak adds, his gaze wandering briefly over the tip of the bow in front of him and into the highway stretching east, "It seemed like my secret admirer had no problems with that."
You have emoted: "The very same person who said words would hurt you, I'm afraid," Sibatti admits, dropping her hands down to curl lightly around her stomach. "But surely you would see how -improper- it would be, yes? The Keeper of the Wilds and her enemy can't just be seen doing the horizontal tango, yes? Surely you understand, darling."
"Certainly improper," Tyrak nods agreeably, his hands relaxing the grip on the bow and sliding down to its grip, "At least here, right in the middle of the road."
You have emoted: Sibatti's eyes travel over the length of Tyrak's bow. "Careful how you touch that thing," she says wryly. "It might fire prematurely."
Shifting his stance, Tyrak hoists his arms to lay atop of his bow. "I -know- it doesn't fire prematurely," he glances downward, "Does it happen to you often?"
You have emoted: Sibatti gives Tyrak a once over, and then glances away with a coy bat of her eyelashes. "Oh, well... you know." She makes a small gesture with her hands. "Nothing that can't be fixed with a few well-placed strokes."
Taking a few steps back, Tyrak tilts his head and slowly observes your every curve. "What are we going to do with ourselves then?"
Dryly, you say, "I don't know. Just how tourbillion -is- your wasteland, anyway? I need a man who's still got something to give."
Twisting his bow sideways, Tyrak runs his left hand slowly along its curved shape, his eyes following the fluid downward movement but focused on your form instead, "In that case, I better get -it- ready for your visit," he raises his right hand to caress his amulet between his fingers.
Tyrak kneels down and closes his eyes. You watch in amazement as his earthen flesh begins to flow into the ground.
You have emoted: Sibatti covers her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh.
Within moments Tyrak stands, his body released from its earthen form.
You say, "What do you know - you DO know how to play along."
Tyrak says, "What do you mean, Play along?"
You have emoted: Sibatti's laughter subsides, and she glances from side to side warily. "... oh."
You say, "I.... see!"
Tyrak says to you, "You see....what?"
You have emoted: Sibatti's hand forms a fist over her mouth and she clears her throat, appearing vaguely flustered by something. "You aren't joking around."
Smiling wryly, Tyrak says, "I weren't joke, at all." Securing his bow to his back Tyrak leans in and whispers, "Until we meet again, -admirer-."
Tyrak says, "Rezhen."
A swirling vortex of flickering ebon light descends in a screaming concentration of power, centering around Tyrak. A piercing cry rings from the center of the maelstrom before the vortex rapidly dissipates, taking Tyrak along with it.
He is followed by a clay golem.
A dark brown root sigil is here. A long wooden arrow lies on the floor here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southeast, south, southwest, west, northwest, up, down, in, and out.
>northwest
You begin to slowly clamber over the rubble that blocks your way.
North of Trees. (road) (lost) (Prelatorian Highway.) [-Slyphe-]
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Countless tiny spikes litter the ground. The area has been flooded with sand. A small wooden sign is here. A dirty bird has made some dirty droppings here. A shimmering ball of energy hovers here above a multi-colored coral pedestal ornamented with seashells. A small sign points into a market stall. A massive golem made of clay stands here. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way north. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way southeast. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way south. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way southwest. A pile of rubble lies here, blocking the way in. A large sandstorm rages here. A cloaked figure is riding on Zhara, a majestic gargoyle. He wields a menacing flail in his left hand and an elegant crozier in his right.
You see exits leading north, southeast, south, southwest, and in.
You suddenly perceive the vague outline of an aura of rebounding around Tyrak.
Hundreds of tiny stones fall from the sky, pelting the area.
Your body is battered by the falling stones.
Health Lost: 202, blunt.
You say to a cloaked figure, "You made a mess."
A cloaked figure nods his head emphatically.
Hundreds of tiny stones fall from the sky, pelting the area.
Your body is battered by the falling stones.
Health Lost: 202, blunt.
The corners of a cloaked figure's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
You say to a cloaked figure, "And that isn't nice, ow!"
You say, "Stop that."
A cloaked figure says, "What?"
Comprehension flashes across a cloaked figure's face.
You say, "You're raining stones on me."
A cloaked figure nods his head emphatically.
You say, "It isn't very friendly of you."
You frown at a cloaked figure.
A cloaked figure says, "I'm not typically a friendly guy."
You say, "Well, I think you're -darling-."
You flutter your eyelashes at a cloaked figure.
A cloaked figure says, "Oh really?"
You say, "Mmhm."
A cloaked figure says, "What makes you think that?"
You say, "Don't think I haven't seen those fleeting glimpses in the unstable zones."
You say, "I mean, I know it's difficult to resist something -this- adorable..."
A cloaked figure asks you, "How did you know what I was thinking?"
He is a dexterous Earthen, and is a tall, imposing being. At least seven feet in height, he possesses two wicked, near draconic horns that crown his head, tapered ears and pale, sharp eyes. Dark, smoky skin contrasts with his pale eyes, as much as his black hair stands out against his flesh. His features are defined and his figure something athletic and muscular. Patches of pebbled scaling spread arbitrarily across his skin, the colouring matching the hue of the draconic wings that sprout from his back. Fitting for the rest of his appearance, predatory, claw-like nails elongate his fingers. He is wearing:
a bunch of artifacts
You say to a cloaked figure, "I can recognize unrequited love when I see it."
A cloaked figure asks you, "Who do you feel this way about?"
You suck thoughtfully on your teeth.
You say, "Guess!"
A cloaked figure looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
A cloaked figure says, "Well. I haven't seen Kiyotan lately, soo. I'm boggled."
Frowning, you say, "Kiyotan is not my lover."
A cloaked figure looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
A cloaked figure says, "Wonder who it could be."
A cloaked figure asks you, "Are you going to tell me or going to let me sit here not knowing?"
Using the design for reference, you take up your tools and construct decoration.
You give an intricately-folded paper flower decoration to Tyrak.
You give a cloaked figure a peck on the cheek.
You say to a cloaked figure, "Yer cute."
You begin to wield a testis slice in your left hand.
You wink knowingly.
>southeast
The Prelatorian Highway. (road) (Prelatorian Highway.) [-Slyphe-]
The stars twinkle in the clear night sky.
You see exits leading east and northwest.
<< A few minutes later.. >>
A homing pigeon flutters in towards you, gliding over you as it drops a letter into your hands before flapping away once more.
>letterlist
**********************************[ Letters ]**********************************
ID Sender Recipient Months left
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
26733 Tyrak Sibatti 10
*******************************************************************************
You open an elegant white letter.
This letter is made of the finest quality paper, and is rolled into a cylinder, with a red ribbon to keep it from unfurling.
It has 10 months of usefulness left.
It weighs 1 ounce(s).
An elegant white letter is holding:
"lily97766" a yellow lily
It is holding 1 objects.
You tell Tyrak, "I -knew- you cared!"
Tyrak tells you, "A gift exchange, if you will."
You tell Tyrak, "I'm going to tell all my friends!"
Tyrak tells you, "They will never believe you."
You tell Tyrak, "You think they wouldn't believe a face like this?"
Tyrak tells you, "When it deals with a guy likes this, I do not."
You tell Tyrak, "Ooh, think you're big cojones, huh?"
>farsee tyrak
You close your eyes momentarily and extend the range of your vision, seeking out the presence of Tyrak.
You see that Tyrak is at A desolate ruin in The tourbillion wasteland.
>honours tyrak
Lord Tyrak Qefin
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
General:
He is 97 years old.
He was born on the 3rd of Haernos, year 255 of the Midnight Age.
He is ranked 39th in Aetolia.
He is a Terran Master in the Fellowship of Explorers.
He is the Champion of the Divine Order of Slyphe, the Maelstrom.
He is a member of the clan called 'House Cardinalis'.
He is the clan head of the clan called 'The Qefin Legacy'.
He is a member of the clan called 'Mazzion System'.
He is a Captain in the army of Bloodloch.
He is a mentor and able to take on proteges.
He is considered to be approximately 85% of your might.
He is an enemy of your city.
He is a member of the Resistance against Drakkenmont.
Fame:
He has slain Ivaryen, Keeper of the Glade.
He once served as champion of a Divine Order.
He has aided the Shadow by destroying the Flame of Salura.
He has killed Zsarachnor, the Vampire Lord.
He has been elected to the ruling council of a city.
He has slain Vukub Ysin'zhu, the Ogre Baron.
He found a golden ticket during the Year 300 Carnival.
He captured the Hearts of Darkness throughout Aetolia.
He successfully defended Ciem from invaders.
He has brought salvation to the Chapel Gardens.
He has slain the empowered form of Marcello Relovec.
(Market): You say, "Delivering anonymous messages of love to the most wonderful man in the tourbillion wasteland, Tyrak! Send tells!"
Lin tells you, "What in the--."
Lin tells you, "Oh, why not. Tell him I want his body or something insipid."
You tell Tyrak, "Ooh. Someone wants your body!"
You tell Lin, "On it."
Lin tells you, "Umm, what does 'tourbillion' mean?"
You tell Lin, "I'm not sure."
Lin tells you, "You are very strange sometimes, Esry."
You tell Lin, "Ask him!"
You tell Lin, "It's where he retreats all of the time."
You tell Tyrak, "Someone anonymous says, "I don't know what tourbillion is but I love you.""
Moirean tells you, "Tell him that he can impale me with his stalagmite any day."
You tell Tyrak, "Oh, this one is feisty! "Tell him that he can impale me with his stalagmite any day"."
You tell Moirean, "Oh ho ho."
Moirean tells you, "And if he's good, maybe he'll get a little sand strip show."
Tyrak tells you, "Who would be saying something like that?"
You tell Tyrak, "The same anonymous person says, "And if he's good, maybe he'll get a little sand strip show"."
You tell Moirean, "Oh, that was awful! Awful puns!"
Moirean tells you, "It's ok. Words hurt him."
You tell Moirean, "I like it!"
You tell Tyrak, "I've been told words hurt you. What does that mean? Am I hurting you, poppet?"
Tyrak tells you, "I am unsure what that means really. I suppose it depends on who said it and what they said."
You tell Tyrak, "That would violate the spirit of the game! I couldn't do that, I just couldn't."
Tyrak tells you, "Well I haven't got an answer for you on that question then."
You tell Tyrak, "... what IS a tourbillion wasteland?"
Tyrak tells you, "It's my ruined wasteland that I have created."
You tell Tyrak, "You -created- your very own ruined wasteland?"
Tyrak tells you, "I do."
You tell Tyrak, "Lemme see."
Tyrak tells you, "Now what fun would that be? In the spirit of the game, I have to keep you going! I just do!"
You tell Tyrak, "Keep me going where?"
Tyrak tells you, "With your anonymous replies and your wanting in my wasteland."
You tell Tyrak, "I think you're secretly a friendly guy. You love it!"
Tyrak tells you, "I do enjoy the attention a little."
You tell Tyrak, "The anonymous requests seem to have died down a little. Strangely, they were all men."
You tell Tyrak, "Welp!"
Tyrak tells you, "Meh. Those words did hurt."
You tell Tyrak, "And we've now come full circle."
Tyrak tells you, "So we have."
You tell Tyrak, "So. Wasteland."
You tell Tyrak, "I'll give you a cooooookie."
<< Wandering back >>
North of Trees. (road) (Prelatorian Highway.) [-Slyphe-]
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. A small wooden sign is here. A dirty bird has made some dirty droppings here. A shimmering ball of energy hovers here above a multi-colored coral pedestal ornamented with seashells. A small sign points into a market stall. An improvised pack of bundled cloth and rope is here.
You see exits leading north, southeast, south, southwest, and in.
You tell Tyrak, "... no dice, hm?"
Tyrak tells you, "A cookie?"
You tell Tyrak, "Made with love."
Tyrak tells you, "I'm sure it is."
Tyrak enters from the south, riding Zhara, a majestic gargoyle.
He is followed by a clay golem.
You clap your hands together merrily.
Tyrak raises an eyebrow questioningly.
You say, "I knew you couldn't stand to be apart from me."
Tyrak says to you, "Is that what you think?"
Tapping her nose knowingly, you say, "Not what I think. It's what I -know-."
Tilting his head back Tyrak asks, "You going to tell me who this person you are in love with?"
You have emoted: Sibatti clasps her hands together, fingers intertwined, a look of undying devotion in her eyes. "Attention, gifts, a request for a private - albeit devastated and probably ugly - getaway, cookies freshly baked with love? Why darling, isn't it obvious?"
Nodding slowly but affirmatively, Tyrak says, "Putting it like that it is obvious, although, I'd still like to hear you say it. Perhaps our thoughts are inaccurate with the other."
You have emoted: Drawing her ivory tusk longbow from its position strapped across her back and clutching it to her breast, Sibatti drapes her other hand across her forehead in a dramatic swoon. "Do you remember that time I shot you down with an arrow, a scant year ago or so? Oh, how I -wished- for it to be a Heartstring Bow so that I might have captured YOUR heart, Tyrak Qefin!"
You have emoted: Sibatti feigns a regretful air. "But instead, all I captured was your life essence." She sniffles once, adding to the dramatics.
His eyes following the swift movement of the longbow in your hands, Tyrak grins almost imperceptibly, "Is that so? What has been stopping you then?" He shifts his bow in front of him and leans against it strategically, his eyes staying mostly level with yours.
You have emoted: Clinging to her bow guardedly, Sibatti's eyes widen and flutter rapidly. "For the SCANDAL it would cause, surely!" she exclaims, aghast. Her tail flips around behind her, waving in alarm.
"Scandal?" Tyrak lifts his left arm to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully, his right one leaning against the bow in front of him, "What sort of a scandal do you have in mind then?" His eyes dart down and sideways as your tail flicks behind you.
You have emoted: Sibatti releases a bloodspattered ivory tusk longbow, the heavy weapon clattering to the road loudly, and brings both of her hands up to cup her face. "Now now," she chides. "I may look like the most divine piece of ass you've laid eyes on in all of your ninety-seven years, but these curves come with a -price-. I could never love an Earthen, it would be political -suicide-!"
Straightening his broad back and rolling his shoulders slowly, Tyrak smirks, his eyes betraying his amusement, "I see you have been following my birthdays, I am flattered."
"As far as an Earthen," Tyrak adds, his gaze wandering briefly over the tip of the bow in front of him and into the highway stretching east, "It seemed like my secret admirer had no problems with that."
You have emoted: "The very same person who said words would hurt you, I'm afraid," Sibatti admits, dropping her hands down to curl lightly around her stomach. "But surely you would see how -improper- it would be, yes? The Keeper of the Wilds and her enemy can't just be seen doing the horizontal tango, yes? Surely you understand, darling."
"Certainly improper," Tyrak nods agreeably, his hands relaxing the grip on the bow and sliding down to its grip, "At least here, right in the middle of the road."
You have emoted: Sibatti's eyes travel over the length of Tyrak's bow. "Careful how you touch that thing," she says wryly. "It might fire prematurely."
Shifting his stance, Tyrak hoists his arms to lay atop of his bow. "I -know- it doesn't fire prematurely," he glances downward, "Does it happen to you often?"
You have emoted: Sibatti gives Tyrak a once over, and then glances away with a coy bat of her eyelashes. "Oh, well... you know." She makes a small gesture with her hands. "Nothing that can't be fixed with a few well-placed strokes."
Taking a few steps back, Tyrak tilts his head and slowly observes your every curve. "What are we going to do with ourselves then?"
Dryly, you say, "I don't know. Just how tourbillion -is- your wasteland, anyway? I need a man who's still got something to give."
Twisting his bow sideways, Tyrak runs his left hand slowly along its curved shape, his eyes following the fluid downward movement but focused on your form instead, "In that case, I better get -it- ready for your visit," he raises his right hand to caress his amulet between his fingers.
Tyrak kneels down and closes his eyes. You watch in amazement as his earthen flesh begins to flow into the ground.
You have emoted: Sibatti covers her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh.
Within moments Tyrak stands, his body released from its earthen form.
You say, "What do you know - you DO know how to play along."
Tyrak says, "What do you mean, Play along?"
You have emoted: Sibatti's laughter subsides, and she glances from side to side warily. "... oh."
You say, "I.... see!"
Tyrak says to you, "You see....what?"
You have emoted: Sibatti's hand forms a fist over her mouth and she clears her throat, appearing vaguely flustered by something. "You aren't joking around."
Smiling wryly, Tyrak says, "I weren't joke, at all." Securing his bow to his back Tyrak leans in and whispers, "Until we meet again, -admirer-."
Tyrak says, "Rezhen."
A swirling vortex of flickering ebon light descends in a screaming concentration of power, centering around Tyrak. A piercing cry rings from the center of the maelstrom before the vortex rapidly dissipates, taking Tyrak along with it.
He is followed by a clay golem.