Rolling for Witch's Brew, Coffin Up Candy and Whack A Ghoul.
You Call This A Festival?
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The member 'Mischa Amasova' has done the following action : Dice Rolls
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Guest- Guest
“If this is the best they can do then maybe I should go somewhere else…not that it would make much difference in this shitty country.” The dark haired young woman uttered with a frustrated sigh. She hadn’t expected an awful lot from Magnolia Town but this was truly the pits. A few tacky decorations and a few geeks who were walking around wearing Halloween costumes. It was complete and utterly pathetic and the Pergrande native was quite happy to express her opinion, once she came across someone that she could complain to. It appeared that Fiore was as big of a hellhole as she’d been taught it was and nothing she’s seen so far did much to change her mind. This place deserved to be conquered and the thought of her country destroying it was one that caused her heart to beat faster. She so deeply desired to be on the frontlines herself but her strength was simply not yet great enough for her to be able to do that, much to her own frustration. For now, all she could do was increase her power and perhaps beat the shit out of a few Fiore natives while she did so.
To make sure that everyone knew where her allegiances lied, Mischa had decided to completely take the piss by wearing a Halloween costume of her own nation's combat uniform. It had certainly captured the attention of a few of the locals who she’d walked past although up until that point, no one had mentioned anything to her about it but she had a feeling that sooner or later, someone probably would. She was hoping for it in a way, as perhaps it would add a little excitement to what was currently turning out to be a rather flat and dull experience.
Eventually, she got her wish and a rather large figure shouted out at her as she walked past him. The man was sitting at a table and looked to be in his mid twenties, a look of cold fury spread across his features as he glared at her. “OI! You there! The girl wearing the uniform! Take that crap off right now!”
Mischa came to a complete halt and turned to him. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself? What I choose to wear is my damn business. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll make it so that you never talk again.”
“Oh yeah?” He replied, standing up and taking a step towards her. Six feet tall at least and well built, he was by no means an average weakling. “I’d like to see you try it. People will thank me for teaching a lesson to a scumbag who’d choose to wear such an insulting outfit.”
“Wars happen and people get killed. You’d best get used to it because there are going to be a lot more deaths.” The teenager answered. “I bet the thought of fighting for your country is something that you’d never have the courage to do. You pathetic coward.”
It looked as if she’d well and truly set him off but before the man could actually do anything, a figure stepped in between the two of them. A tall brunette woman, wearing a witch’s outfit. “I think that’s enough of that, don’t you agree?” Without another word, she’d grasp Mischa’s arm firmly and pull her away from the man, with a surprising amount of strength.
(569 Words)
To make sure that everyone knew where her allegiances lied, Mischa had decided to completely take the piss by wearing a Halloween costume of her own nation's combat uniform. It had certainly captured the attention of a few of the locals who she’d walked past although up until that point, no one had mentioned anything to her about it but she had a feeling that sooner or later, someone probably would. She was hoping for it in a way, as perhaps it would add a little excitement to what was currently turning out to be a rather flat and dull experience.
Eventually, she got her wish and a rather large figure shouted out at her as she walked past him. The man was sitting at a table and looked to be in his mid twenties, a look of cold fury spread across his features as he glared at her. “OI! You there! The girl wearing the uniform! Take that crap off right now!”
Mischa came to a complete halt and turned to him. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself? What I choose to wear is my damn business. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll make it so that you never talk again.”
“Oh yeah?” He replied, standing up and taking a step towards her. Six feet tall at least and well built, he was by no means an average weakling. “I’d like to see you try it. People will thank me for teaching a lesson to a scumbag who’d choose to wear such an insulting outfit.”
“Wars happen and people get killed. You’d best get used to it because there are going to be a lot more deaths.” The teenager answered. “I bet the thought of fighting for your country is something that you’d never have the courage to do. You pathetic coward.”
It looked as if she’d well and truly set him off but before the man could actually do anything, a figure stepped in between the two of them. A tall brunette woman, wearing a witch’s outfit. “I think that’s enough of that, don’t you agree?” Without another word, she’d grasp Mischa’s arm firmly and pull her away from the man, with a surprising amount of strength.
(569 Words)
Guest- Guest
The woman practically dragged the annoyed teenager from the area and over towards a large booth where an enormous cauldron was sitting. The concoction inside smelled horrible and did an excellent job of wiping out Mischa’s appetite. Clearly the interfering pain in the backside wasn’t much of a drink mixer but she sure had a damn iron grip. Mischa couldn’t break it at all and there was no chance that she could pull herself away. There was something odd about this woman and when she took another look at the brunette’s garb, she quickly put two and two together, her frown deepening. She was more than just wearing the outfit of a witch, much more than that.
Before she could speak though, the witch did first, her own expression rather grim. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking by coming here like that. This festival is a way for people to enjoy themselves and forget about their worries. Did you come here just looking for a fight or what?”
“Why does everyone around here insist on butting into my business?” Mischa spat in response. “I can wear whatever outfit I want and judging from the reactions I’m getting, I reckon I’ve picked a bloody good one for scaring people. Isn’t that what Halloween is all about or have I missed the point?”
“You’ve gone completely overboard and taken things far too literally.” The witch answered. “This is all supposed to be a bit of fun.”
“What if pissing people off and showing my national pride are things that I enjoy?” The teenager answered. “I don’t give a damn if people don’t like it and I’ll keep doing precisely what I wish. Now if you don’t mind, that guy you pulled me away from is due a beating.”
She was about to walk away when the witch sighed and responded. “Look, just relax and leave the locals alone. I don’t want to have to kick you out of the festival and there’s nothing I can do about your uniform unless I strip you bare. You can stay as long as you don’t cause any more trouble.”
Mischa just scoffed. “Whatever. So what’s the disgusting smell coming from your cauldron?”
A smile crossed the witch’s face. “My brew. Drink it and you’ll find yourself changing in ways that you never have imagined.”
The Pergrande native scowled at that point. “It’s magic of some kind. For all I know, it’ll poison me. Like I’d drink that.”
“Well if you’re afraid then I can’t force you.” Came the swift reply.
Mischa’s scowl deepened even further and for a moment or two, she just glared at the cauldron but after those seconds passed, she took a cup and scooped up some of the brew, before drinking it in one go. It tasted alright and she didn’t think it was poison at first but her vision would then turn blue, catching her by surprise and seeming to confirm her fears. Yet, that would soon pass and once her vision returned to normal, all she could see around her were ghosts, which caused her to stare dagger at the witch. “You did poison me! First my vision turned blue and now I see spirits! Foul sorcery!”
The witch actually laughed. “You’re not poisoned. It’s a usual effect of the brew and it’ll go away on its own…”
Mischa had already walked off at that point, her mood even more sour than it had been before, leaving the witch to simply shake her head, hoping the girl wouldn’t cause any more trouble.
(596 Words)
(1165 TWC)
Before she could speak though, the witch did first, her own expression rather grim. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking by coming here like that. This festival is a way for people to enjoy themselves and forget about their worries. Did you come here just looking for a fight or what?”
“Why does everyone around here insist on butting into my business?” Mischa spat in response. “I can wear whatever outfit I want and judging from the reactions I’m getting, I reckon I’ve picked a bloody good one for scaring people. Isn’t that what Halloween is all about or have I missed the point?”
“You’ve gone completely overboard and taken things far too literally.” The witch answered. “This is all supposed to be a bit of fun.”
“What if pissing people off and showing my national pride are things that I enjoy?” The teenager answered. “I don’t give a damn if people don’t like it and I’ll keep doing precisely what I wish. Now if you don’t mind, that guy you pulled me away from is due a beating.”
She was about to walk away when the witch sighed and responded. “Look, just relax and leave the locals alone. I don’t want to have to kick you out of the festival and there’s nothing I can do about your uniform unless I strip you bare. You can stay as long as you don’t cause any more trouble.”
Mischa just scoffed. “Whatever. So what’s the disgusting smell coming from your cauldron?”
A smile crossed the witch’s face. “My brew. Drink it and you’ll find yourself changing in ways that you never have imagined.”
The Pergrande native scowled at that point. “It’s magic of some kind. For all I know, it’ll poison me. Like I’d drink that.”
“Well if you’re afraid then I can’t force you.” Came the swift reply.
Mischa’s scowl deepened even further and for a moment or two, she just glared at the cauldron but after those seconds passed, she took a cup and scooped up some of the brew, before drinking it in one go. It tasted alright and she didn’t think it was poison at first but her vision would then turn blue, catching her by surprise and seeming to confirm her fears. Yet, that would soon pass and once her vision returned to normal, all she could see around her were ghosts, which caused her to stare dagger at the witch. “You did poison me! First my vision turned blue and now I see spirits! Foul sorcery!”
The witch actually laughed. “You’re not poisoned. It’s a usual effect of the brew and it’ll go away on its own…”
Mischa had already walked off at that point, her mood even more sour than it had been before, leaving the witch to simply shake her head, hoping the girl wouldn’t cause any more trouble.
(596 Words)
(1165 TWC)
Guest- Guest
Stomping her way past a few more activity booths, the Pergrande native was almost overcome by her rage at how things had proceeded so far. The nerve of that woman to actually stop her from doing whatever she wished and what was worse? Mscha couldn’t do anything about it. There was just something about that woman’s vibe that gave the impression that she was so much stronger than the black haired girl, an idea that infuriated her beyond belief. She swore to herself then that she’d get her payback one day and by the time Halloween came around again, things would be different and Mischa would beat the ever loving hell out of the brunette bitch.
Muttering to herself, Mischa didn’t pay all that much attention to her surroundings until she almost walked into the back of someone who seemed to be watching some kind of game being played. The black haired teenager was about to give him a piece of her mind, when she glanced towards the booth, where a young boy seemed to be watching three magical cups which were spinning and moving around. It just looked like a cheap trick to her and she didn’t understand the appeal of it until the cups came to a stop and the boy ended up picking one. The result was the boy whooping and hollering with joy as he seemed to win a piece of candy. Those watching clapped with joy.
Mischa, on the other hand, was not as impressed and simply barked at the event organizer. “If he can do it then anyone can. Not much of an achievement, is it?”
The event organizer frowned and replied. “Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you try it? I’ll make an effort to make it more difficult for you.” He was an older looking gentleman, who’d up until that point seemed to have been in quite a happy mood.
“If you want to be made a fool out of then fine.” Mischa snapped, approaching the booth and pushing past those waiting in line, much to their annoyance. They didn’t get in the way though, considering that the teenager had quite a forceful push, sending a few people almost off of their feet.
Placing a piece of candy in the far left cup, the old man would then wave his hand, resulting in all of the cups to start moving, in an almost dance-like manner. Starting slow but increasing in pace, Mischa would watch with a hawk-like gaze, following the cup that she believed had the candy in. It was obvious that the speed was higher for her than it had been for the boy and her brows furrowed as time wore on. After a couple of minutes, the cups came to a stop and without any hesitation, she picked the middle one, revealing the candy and winning the game for her.
With a roll of her eyes and a dismissive look at the organizer, she’d continue on her way, unwrapping the candy and eating it while she walked.
God, even the candy of her nation was better than Fiore’s…
(519 Words)
(1684 TWC)
Muttering to herself, Mischa didn’t pay all that much attention to her surroundings until she almost walked into the back of someone who seemed to be watching some kind of game being played. The black haired teenager was about to give him a piece of her mind, when she glanced towards the booth, where a young boy seemed to be watching three magical cups which were spinning and moving around. It just looked like a cheap trick to her and she didn’t understand the appeal of it until the cups came to a stop and the boy ended up picking one. The result was the boy whooping and hollering with joy as he seemed to win a piece of candy. Those watching clapped with joy.
Mischa, on the other hand, was not as impressed and simply barked at the event organizer. “If he can do it then anyone can. Not much of an achievement, is it?”
The event organizer frowned and replied. “Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you try it? I’ll make an effort to make it more difficult for you.” He was an older looking gentleman, who’d up until that point seemed to have been in quite a happy mood.
“If you want to be made a fool out of then fine.” Mischa snapped, approaching the booth and pushing past those waiting in line, much to their annoyance. They didn’t get in the way though, considering that the teenager had quite a forceful push, sending a few people almost off of their feet.
Placing a piece of candy in the far left cup, the old man would then wave his hand, resulting in all of the cups to start moving, in an almost dance-like manner. Starting slow but increasing in pace, Mischa would watch with a hawk-like gaze, following the cup that she believed had the candy in. It was obvious that the speed was higher for her than it had been for the boy and her brows furrowed as time wore on. After a couple of minutes, the cups came to a stop and without any hesitation, she picked the middle one, revealing the candy and winning the game for her.
With a roll of her eyes and a dismissive look at the organizer, she’d continue on her way, unwrapping the candy and eating it while she walked.
God, even the candy of her nation was better than Fiore’s…
(519 Words)
(1684 TWC)
Guest- Guest
She was just about to start causing some chaos when the sound of a frustrated person caught her attention and her head turned around on a swivel to see a young woman hitting a machine with a hammer. At last, someone who was actually having some fun and Mischa couldn’t help but feel just a tad curious about what it was that annoyed the girl. She might just have asked, if it weren’t the girl giving up at that point and storming off, leaving a baffled organizer behind. This one was a younger female, blonde haired and rather pretty. Still intrigued, Mischa approached the booth, gazing down at the booth as she did so.
The organizer spoke first, drawing the dark haired girl’s attention. “A lot of people get angry about the game but it’s not often that they try to assault the machine. Fancy a go?”
“What do I have to do?” Mischa replied, raising an eyebrow.
“When the ghouls pop out of the hole, just hit them with the hammer. That’s all there is to it.” The organizer answered with a shrug.
After a moment’s thought, the teenager nodded and took the hammer in hand. The organizer would then press a button on the machine and a whirring sound would start. For the first ten seconds nothing happened, before the ghouls started to suddenly start to appear at random intervals. Mischa soon got into the swing of things, quite literally and started to pound hard on the machine, the sounds of which quickly alarmed the organizer. There was no holding back and as the teenager scored a direct hit on the final ghoul, the machine stopped working altogether, a little bit of steam coming from the top.
The organizer wasn’t happy and cried out. “Seriously? Did you have to hit it that hard? It’s going to cost a bundle to fix it!”
“No doubt you have a mage stooge who'll fix it for you. It’s what they do, yeah?”
Laughing for once, she gleefully turned away from the woman and walked off. The festival hadn’t gone quite the way she’d planned but there was still time to start a scrap or two and flaunting her outfit with pride, Mischa soon vanished into the ever moving crowd.
(378 Words)
(2062 TWC)
The organizer spoke first, drawing the dark haired girl’s attention. “A lot of people get angry about the game but it’s not often that they try to assault the machine. Fancy a go?”
“What do I have to do?” Mischa replied, raising an eyebrow.
“When the ghouls pop out of the hole, just hit them with the hammer. That’s all there is to it.” The organizer answered with a shrug.
After a moment’s thought, the teenager nodded and took the hammer in hand. The organizer would then press a button on the machine and a whirring sound would start. For the first ten seconds nothing happened, before the ghouls started to suddenly start to appear at random intervals. Mischa soon got into the swing of things, quite literally and started to pound hard on the machine, the sounds of which quickly alarmed the organizer. There was no holding back and as the teenager scored a direct hit on the final ghoul, the machine stopped working altogether, a little bit of steam coming from the top.
The organizer wasn’t happy and cried out. “Seriously? Did you have to hit it that hard? It’s going to cost a bundle to fix it!”
“No doubt you have a mage stooge who'll fix it for you. It’s what they do, yeah?”
Laughing for once, she gleefully turned away from the woman and walked off. The festival hadn’t gone quite the way she’d planned but there was still time to start a scrap or two and flaunting her outfit with pride, Mischa soon vanished into the ever moving crowd.
(378 Words)
(2062 TWC)
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