ChickenBonanza
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She sighs dramatically. “Fiiine, I guess we can go find the guy.” Mercyrose points a finger into the trees ahead of them as she collapses backwards, once again sprawled across Longinus. “Forward, my noble steed! We have a quest to complete!”
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“That’s priority two,” Mercyrose answered. “Ensuring I ain’t stuck comes first. Besides, it’ll be easy. I got a spot in my heart that’s a perfect fit for ya, y’know.” Longinus, contrary to his rider’s nonchalance, adopts a wary vigilance.
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“Hey, you,” Mercyrose says. “We don’t need that weirdo god around. What say you help me get outta here?”
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Mercyrose shrugs, resting her chin on her hand. “Iunno,” she says. “Could be straight to Mazkar for how this day’s gone.”
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He slowly turns his great head towards Kjaras-Dor. He stares for a moment, thoughts unknowable, before turning away. Kjaras-Dor feels an impression of resignation. A spiritual ‘Yeah, sure.’ ”Gosh, Longinus,” Mercyrose says. “Know she’s never gonna stop pokin’ and proddin’ atchya.”
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“Psh,” Mercyrose says. “Don’t care about none of that. I just wanna get going already.”
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“Hmm,” she spends a moment thinking. “You’ll have to ask him. And only if you agree to stop asking me questions!”
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“You can try!” Mercyrose answers. Given Longinus’ height, perhaps fifteen feet at its greatest, it would surely be a feat to do so. Unless one managed to convince him to lower himself.
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As Mercyrose leaves, Longinus trundling away, she points towards Sarel and Kjaras-Dor. “You’re cool, I guess, come with if you want.” “Pulse, too. But not you, ‘Watcher.’ I don’t wanna see a hair of ya trackin’ us.” With her declaration complete, Longinus continues on, leaving a noticeable trail of disruption in his wake, slowly fading from view. “Don’t mess with me, nerd!” Mercyrose calls out.
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“Darn,” Mercyrose grumbles. “That usually works.”
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Mercyrose fails to suppress a snicker, which eventually turns into a laugh of an odd cadence, almost a rhythm. “Alright,” she says. “That’s enough of you guys for me.” She pats Longinus’ back, and he resumes his walk, crushing shrubs and plant life on his way. “You can come with if you want, question-woman, but if you ask any more I’ll get Longinus to eat you.”
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Mercyrose turns up her head, adopting a haughty expression. “You ain’t in the know,” she says, simply.
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Mercyrose spends couple seconds inspecting Sarel. “You pass the soul read. Welcome aboard.” She stops and stared into the Watcher’s eyes, initiating a staredown. “You don’t pass the soul read.” She waves a hand at Sarel. “She knows what I’m talking about.”
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As a note, the red marblings and paler skin tone would only apply specifically to Mercyrose. Other dusksingers can present with the standard array of human skin tones and singer marblings. The red hair and black eyes and nails are pretty universal, though. Also gemheart and rhythms.
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Mercyrose rolls her eyes. She recognized most of those words. “Those are deities, ya dingus.” Her eyes turn to Pulse. “Listen, mate, what say you and we ditch this crowd?”
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Mercyrose’s eyes continue to narrow. “Just what are you, guy, that you happen to know all this stuff, without being told? You some kinda deity of this place?”
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Her eyes narrow at Watcher, as the rubs her chin in thought. “I don’t think I like the cut of your jib, stranger,” she says. “Followin’ me outta the blue. Knowin’ things.” She flips her hair, dramatic. “Besides, I don’t needa translator, I understand ‘em just fine.”
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“Oy, You!” Mercyrose calls out, pointing a finger at the spren. “You’ll do.” Longinus stops, turning to look. His eyes blink independently of each other, before turning back to his path. “So, how does this whole thing work, You?” Mercyrose asks the spren. “You got a Surge for me or what?”
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Mercyrose lets Longinus dictate their path forward, instead occupying herself by inspecting the ‘worldhopper spren’ they happen to pass by. Hoping to find one which seems to like them, or would be susceptible to Mercyrose’s wiles, so that they could move on from this strange place.
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Sensing the sudden flaring of tension, Longinus finally stands up on multiple sets of legs, twice the height of any person. And then he begins to walk off into the woods, guided by some bestial insight. Mercyrose offers no objection, only eyeing the rest of the strangers as trees begin to shroud their exit.
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She purses her lips, shaking her head vigorously. “I am Mercyrose! I ain’t from Southern Scadrial, and Longinus ain’t a mistwraith!” Mercyrose leans down to scratch Longinus’ neck. “Don’t worry about the madwoman’s words,” she assures him, as if he had shown any signs that he wasn’t. He rests still.
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She blinks. “You got spren here, too? Neat. Where can I find one?” She turns around, patting her mount, who has returned to slumber. Scratches and pets to persuade it to rise once more.
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The girl looks back over her shoulder. “What exits you got in this place, then? Perpendicularity, Elsegate, or what? I got places to be.”
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The girl sits up, cross legged, facing away from the clearing, staring into the forest. “What planet we on, then?” she questions. “And where’s this punk gone?”
