Demon Realm

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Find Rory Atlidóttir

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Posted | 09-06-2017, 10:47 PM




You're saying I'm fragile - I try not to be
It was late in the afternoon on a Thursday. The humidity in the September air was thick enough to stick to your skin as you walked through it. Even when indoors, the stickiness always seemed to linger. It was uncomfortable, especially for those who weren't used to warmer clients. Rory was on of those people. Even the hottest summer months in Iceland did not rise above a comfortable 'warm'. The drastic change of this new city, even after 3 years of residence wasn't something the small town coastal girl had grown accustom to. It was all so new. So ludicous at the same time. It definitely wasn't Iceland, but this was more of a home to Rory than the island had ever been. Funny how unfamiliarity could lead a girl to comfort.

It was the time of day where most people would be settling in to their homes to prepare dinner and greet their families. Instead, Rory had found herself sitting on top of a worn down bar stool. In some sort of pub she didn't even remember the name of. She had nothing in front of her but a mostly full glass of red wine. Her fingers were wrapped around the stem of the glass, but she didn't seem to take a drink more than once every ten minutes. Her mind seemed to be lost in thought.

Down by her feet was an oversided messenger bag covered in an assortment of sewn on patches. What seemed to be the result of a random thought, Rory reached down to rummage through the insides. She pulled out a small, pocket sized notebook and a mangled pencil. Evidence of a nosy dog with no manners. Tucking some stray hair behind her ear, Rory began to write down a collection of sentences. It was a collection of things of merit that she had either overheard or seen b coincidence. A byproduct of a growing control of her dominion. It was easy to listen in to conversations she was not supposed to hear. That's why she enjoyed writing things down. Today it was simple. 'I don't know what a speedo is, and at this point I'm too afraid to ask.' Whatever that conversation was about, she didn't really want to know.

Reaching over to take a sip of her wine, Rory let out a relaxed exhale. She was used to her own silence, so by now it was kind of nice. Typical. Just the way the liked it. Only in her attempt to set her pencil down in the counter top again did she let it roll right off again. Down to the ground. Too dirty with stains and drips of who knows what to pick it back up again. She wrinkled her nose in protest.
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robb stark

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Posted | 09-13-2017, 09:07 PM


Ava doesn't always prioritize location over convenience, but right now she just needed a drink--it didn't matter where it came from. The place isn't high-end like she'd grown used to, even if that was a recent development. Unlike those other places, though, she's invisible here. Not a single person turns their head when she walks in the door (alone, thank God) and takes a spot near one of the few people sitting at the bar. Her mind isn't able to anchor any one specific train of thought, plagued by images that slip focus from her grasp. A frustrated hiss seethes from her nostrils, ordering the strongest thing she could stomach and furrowing her brow against the burn is ignited in her throat.

She rotates the glass between her fingers, listening to the scrape of it against the wooden counter-top. Ava is under no impression that what she does is good, but it's not about that. She knows about escapism, about needing an out when life was too much, and that is what she provided. However, one did not inherit an empire by allowing mistakes and error. One also did not earn respect by hiding behind walls and lines of people. Occasionally she had to throw her weight around to make a point. While this tended to work out fine in most instances, her demon enjoyed playing for the losing side every so often. It was easy to put a bullet in someone's head that you've convinced yourself was useless, inhuman, and a detriment to society with how hard they'd managed to fuck up in order to land themselves on the business end of a gun. Still, it was difficult to hide the hesitation in your trigger finger when your demon activated your empathy dominion and transferred that cold, electrifying fear straight into your senses.

Ava rubbed her hands over her eyes, freshly washed and smelling of bathroom soap; she still can smell the poor bastard's piss.

It is then that she feels the need to occupy herself with something else. Lifting her head, she catches sight of the woman near her casually writing away in her notebook. Half squinting her eyes, the ginger just so happens to drop her pencil before Ava deems it too sudden to speak to her without it seeming off. Pursing her lips, she leans over in her chair and picks the pencil up off the floor, brushing it off on her shirt before offering it back to its owner.

"No idea how you manage to write in this place. I'd have to meditate to focus." She pauses, gaze sliding over to her drink, assessing what that said about the stranger, "Wine is also an interesting choice. Do you come here to relax?" Interesting. Looked like a good distraction to her.


"speaking" | thinking | "Rosalyn speaking"

Find Rory Atlidóttir

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Posted | 09-13-2017, 11:28 PM




You're saying I'm fragile - I try not to be
Sitting on her own, Rory always found a way to notice when anyone came near to her. It was a hyper sensitivity made up entirely in her head. A horribly annoying side effect of social paranoia. Of course, people walked near her, spoke in earshot, and sat near her constantly. It was just a art of being out in the big wide world. It was only when people sat close, or spoke to her unexpectedly that she would feel Lux dig his claws inside the bones in her shoulders. Pressing down on her body to make her feel like the world was falling on top of her shoulders. It was him that caused her to notice things that she would rather ignore. Like a normal person. Like a person who didn't have this voice inside of them that made them doubt the entire room around her. This time it was a woman. A stranger just like everyone else in this never ending city. Despite the looming feeling of Lux's influence, Rory turned her head to smile at the girl. Emoting light surprise underlined with thanks as she fetched her pencil from the floor and handed it to her. How very kind. "Thank you." She spoke in her soft set voice. Just loud enough to be heard over the music.

When the stranger spoke, Rory couldn't help but let out a small laugh. She hadn't thought about how out of place she must look here. Treating a pub like her living room. Shrugging her shoulders, Rory pointed around her in a weak circle, motioning to the entire room. "Writing actually helps me concentrate. It gives me something to focus on." Okay, so maybe she intentionally left out some details. People didn't care about her dominions, it wasn't something people off the street usually discussed with the redhead.

Not that Rory was the type to share personal information with just anyone. Her dominions came with a long list of emotional distress. Something which she liked to keep to herself.

Looking down to her wine, Rory raised an eyebrow and promptly took another drink. "Oh, I've never been here before." She laughed, while sending her a lighthearted smile. "I just didn't feel like going home yet, and I don't have much of a taste for beer." Or liquor at that. Not that she really ever drank much to begin with. It fet kind of sad to sit at home and drink with your pets and plants. Especially while watching a Lord of the Rings marathon. Not that that had ever happened before. Never.

"I'm Rory, sorry." Realising that she had never even introduced herself. It was the least she could do for a strangers kindness. People don't usually talk to her in places like this. Or very often at all, really.

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Posted | 09-21-2017, 08:08 PM


Ava doesn't see the struggle that bears down on the woman beside her, but knows all too well about the unseen influence of demons. Often times she wondered how life would have been without the constant haunt of Rosalyn--without the spectral observance she can feel on every move she makes and every word she says. While her demon was forward in her aggression, she did not know what it was like to be beneath the thumb of one that could not, or would not, become tangible. She could hits hers if she did or said too much, not that it deterred the creature from acting as she wished to.

Still, she retains a bit of curiosity when she leans to offer her the pencil back, in that same moment stretching out a probing tendril of magic to pluck at the emotional strings of the stranger. The tune sang back to her, high and grating, tight and tense and ready to snap. She feels it twist inside her, making some attempt to warp her own emotions, before it is forced down like a bad taste. Her control was sound enough that things did not get the better of her. Unfortunately, it had not always been that way.

"No problem." Her smile is easy, leaning back into her own space and sipping at her drink. A dark eyebrow tilts at her reply, honey-colored eyes following the lazy half-circle of her hand. "Ah, I see. Starbucks too crowded for you?" It's a joke that is punctured by another smile.

"Oh, well what do you know, neither have I. Doesn't seem half bad, though. If not a little..." She's looking for the right word as she twists around to peer at the place, "...Barren."

The Vice Lord looks into her small glass contemplatively when the other woman mentions she doesn't have the taste for beer. "Same. Don't really like this crap either, to be honest." She downs the small amount left and orders another through the little white lie. She likes the scratching burn it creates down her throat. "But, it gets the job done. No one actually drinks it for the taste. At least, not most of the time in my experience."

"No need to apologize, I don't bite. I'm Ava, it's nice to meet you, Rory." Another lie, one she says while offering out her hand to shake, but only after she slides into the bar stool that had been separating them. It was a little awkward to talk to someone from so far away. Curiously, she glances over at the notepad, but can't quite make out what anything says from the fleeting once-over with her eyes.

"Is it a hobby or a career?" She asks, pointing at the notebook.

"speaking" | thinking | "Rosalyn speaking"

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Posted | 09-21-2017, 08:47 PM




You're saying I'm fragile - I try not to be
She was completely unaware that Ava had sent out any shape or form of a dominion. Rory could never know these things, not unless they effected her in a more obvious way. Whatever had just happened, the redheaded woman was blissfully unaware. Her emotions were usually worn on her sleeve, alongside her heart. She was typically a very open book. Never keen on the ability to conceal her feelings or desires. She was only good at hiding herself physically, so the girl was a very well practised recluse. She only sat in her seat, playing with the ends of her pencil as she twisted it between her thumb and index finger. The sensation of the wood on her skin gave her something else to think about.

Rory laughed at Ava's question. She shook her head 'no' in response. That was only half the problem. Was it too much to spill so much about herself onto the table in front of a stranger? Maybe, but Rory felt comfortable here with this woman, and that didn't happen very often. It was a welcomed change. "Too crowded. Also way too loud." Rory pointed at her left ear with her left hand. Faintly tapping at her temple as she spoke. "Intense noises make me uncomfortable because they catch me off guard sometimes." She laughed to herself, not taking it too seriously. Rory took another drink of her wine, savouring the delicate tastes of oak and blackcurrant. One good thing about having enhanced senses was food. It was a perk, actually.

Rory nodded along as Ava explained that she didn't have much of a taste for the alcohol she had picked out herself. She knew how the taste was so sharp and stung the entire way down. It just wasn't for her. "Yet here we are." It was a joke, and her friendly little smile went alongside her upbeat tone of voice.

Shortly after, the ginger girl reached out to shake her hand. The more they spoke, the more calm Rory felt in her presence. It was actually quite fascinating how being this friendly with a stranger helped her ignore the potential fear and anxiety that would have swollen inside of her sitting alone alongside other strangers. Context, she supposed. Lux was easier to ignore when she had something else to focus on. The little notebook usually helped with that too. It was a tool in many aspects. Blinking a few times as the very same book was mentioned, Rory let out a soft 'oh' and then shook her head. "Neither. I just use it to keep myself occupied when I start to think about too many things at once." That was a decent enough explanation, she liked to tell herself these things anyway. "So, what brings you here? I mean if you don't like alcohol you must have just been as bored as I was." She smiled, assuming that the other woman must have an equally as interesting answer to this question.

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