Erim of Death
sinistralofdeath
21 March 2012 @ 07:28 pm
#5: Ghosts and Getaway.  
[When she had first seen the pink slime ooze up from the showers and sinks, she had immediately gone outside to see masses of the stuff gliding down the streets; it was then that she decided it would be prudent to concoct the means to survive in this situation.]

[However, Erim’s strategy planning had mostly ended in concern for those she had met and come to at least regard as capable companions. Near midnight she had fallen asleep, with both thirst and hunger.]

[When she awoke at 3 AM, it had been due to a white mass throwing the lamps, the books, the shoes, just about everything in her room. What in the world—]

[And then she realized. A specter. Of course she had no means to combat it and still doesn’t, so she did what she could.]

[The silver haired woman had run barefoot out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house—grabbing the back-scratcher on her way.]

[A tired woman with no shoes with disheveled clothing and hair askew approaches you now.]

Is there no end to this!?
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Erim of Death
sinistralofdeath
08 March 2012 @ 03:46 pm
#4: Apologies and Technology.  
[Phone / Unfiltered]
H-hello. Is this object… am I using it properly? This is a… telephone, yes?

I’m still wondering what happened to me. But… I apologize for my actions. It was an attitude unfitting for… in honesty, anyone. I do not wish to become, er, “Great Goddess Supreme” of Mayfield, or be in any position other than figuring out my way around here. And perhaps being useful in any upcoming… skirmishes.

Please accept my most humble amends.
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Erim of Death
sinistralofdeath
04 March 2012 @ 02:35 pm
#3: Confections and Reversion.  
[A: Action / 459 Stone Street]
[It was like any other normal Sunday for Erim. She awoke, made her drone children a meager breakfast of cornflakes and milk, and rolled her eyes once more at their seemingly earnest praise of her pouring skills. Going upstairs, she changes into her normal attire and heads back downstairs, ready for another walk about town.]

[Today, however, is different. A plate of chocolate cookies lay on the kitchen table. The silver haired woman regards them dubiously for a second, but decides to make herself some tea and perhaps read a novel. Traveling can be exciting, yes, but a break once in a while does not hurt anyone, does it?]

[The tea is done, and Erim slowly begins to munch on one of the treats. It is soon gone and she eats another, and then another.]

[And suddenly she is left wondering why she is here.]

This house… a human house. Disgusting. Why am I here? A place such as this is of zero consequence to I, the Goddess of Death!

[Tossing the book aside and letting the tea cup fall from where her hand holds it—which happens to be midair—the goddess kicks off her black heels and attempts to rip her pantyhose. When that proves fruitless, she grabs a knife and cuts them off; the mangled shreds fall from her.]

((OoC: Anyone Erim has invited over can drop on by, and of course the residents of this home are quite welcome to respond.))

***

[B: Action / John Doe Park]

[A barefoot woman with silver hair approaches with a stern look on her face.]

You. I cannot sense your energy waves as this place has rendered me powerless. Tell me, are you mortal?

[After all, a goddess isn’t a goddess unless she has people to worship her. Of course, other higher beings will be regarded instantly as allies.]
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Erim of Death
sinistralofdeath
14 February 2012 @ 03:30 pm
#2: Carnations and Family.  
(February 14th: Action / Erim’s Workplace / Around Mayfield, Technically? / Open to Residents)
[Erim had been wandering around when a woman had ushered her into a building; standing before her, she now demands to know why she’s late. The silver haired female hasn’t even the time to ask a question before she is seated in a chair at a desk in front of a mechanism.]

[Letters on raised metal circles, attached to small metal bars, go inside the black metal. They seem to beckon fingers to press them, and hesitantly she does. An a appears on the paper sticking out of the machine. Some form of magic? Spying notes on the desk, they read, “Rewrite the official schedule,” “Type out an abriged version of the Henderson report,” and other things that mean nothing to Erim.]

[So she begins to write. Anything, everything. Her past, the history of Estpolis—the world from where she originates. What else does she have to do today, anyhow? Taking occasional breaks when she sees others doing the same, someone even has the kindness to buy her lunch when he notices she didn’t bring her own.]

[At the end of the workday, she receives a bouquet of carnations, “For a job well done.” Apparently, what she writes doesn’t matter as long as she shows up.]

Lovely—perhaps being here isn’t entirely inconvenient.

[Stepping out the door of this place, the once-goddess gives the faintest smile and inhales deeply. Flowers have always been a favorite of Erim’s. A small weakness, if you will, ever since she named the priphea in the Gratze Empire.]

[If you’re below age eighteen, you will be treated to the utmost maternal love; if you’re eighteen or above, you will be treated like a dearly beloved sibling…]

[But of course, Erim won’t know why.]
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Erim of Death
sinistralofdeath
13 February 2012 @ 02:23 am
#1: The Beginning.  
((Action / 459 Stone Street))
[The last thing Erim had known was the soft embrace of what she is a mistress of: death. Doom Island’s crash landing onto the Republic of Parcelyte was prevented due to the honorable acts of the legendary hero and his wife.]

[Now that she wakes, the silver haired goddess had expected another reincarnation at the hands of Lord Arek the Absolute, but instead finds herself in bed in someone’s home in a frilly white nightgown. Her hair is down, hairpins and ribbon being gone.]

[Half-lidded eyes fly open as she sits bolt upright in bed, hair flying behind her.]

Lord Daos? Amon?

[Nothing. Frantically, she looks in all directions, trying to get some bearing of this… place. While unreliable, Erim decides to call on the weakest of the tetrad.]

Gades, I summon you; respond.

[Fiesty though he may be, he never fails to respond to the his superior’s calls. As a last resort, Erim tries to sense their energy waves… and is shocked when she finds not only can she not sense theirs, but those of any others, mortal or immortal.]

[It is only when she cannot sense her own does she realize every bit of power has been drained from her—no, eliminated.]

((Action / Around Mayfield / Open to Residents))
[At least her wardrobe still suits her: black pantyhose, a knee-length black dress matching the fashion she sees other ladies wearing around this town, and a long, heavy gray coat to suit the weather. Though not her personal ones, she had also found hairpins on the nightstand in her room and fixed it up in the style she is so familiar with.]

[Erim is powerless—a goddess no more. She may as well be Iris again… but the Ankh of Runa is nowhere to be found, so she can’t even rely on its powers. Feeling extremely guarded, the now mere woman with argent locks had left the house hoping to get some sense of this new village, this Mayfield. Uniform houses, oddly hollow people.]

It is all so eerie… This place, just what is it?

[She does not even realize she speaks aloud until the words leave her mouth.]
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