A. Dreamweaver, Weave Me a Dream 5/25; Greatmoon Groves
i. [The plant life here make the groves much more comfortable for Therion than pretty much anywhere else he's yet been on the planet. As strange and upsetting as he finds the entire concept of Chroma, Prismatica itself distresses him even more. It's so loud, so bright, so full of "technology" and things he doesn't understand. At least the trees make this place quieter. The smells are cleaner. More familiar.
Familiar, too, is the unfortunate prevalence of bugs. Therion knows to avoid the Viscosus Bees by now, but he's not ready for the giant butterflies. He retreats to the edge of the grove, pressing his scarf over his nose and mouth while he sneezes his head off, and finally settles under a tree to catch his breath.]
ii. [Once recovered, he stays under the tree with a small hunk of wood to whittle. He's well into it by the time the pixies show up, so he just swats at them idly, without real rancor. At least the dust they cast off doesn't bother his nose.
The bubbles that bobble up from him look dark and warm. In one, someone holds Therion from behind, arms slung loosely around his waist without trapping his arms. It lets him keep whittling, even in the dream. A campfire crackles nearby. The vibe, as the kids say, is safe.
Another seems comfortably blurred, or, for those who recognize the effects of alcohol, happily tipsy. Therion leans on a tavern bar, a tankard of ale in one hand, but what he's really drinking in are the tales being told all around him--the exploits of a clever thief whose face no one knows.
A third doesn't even feature Therion. It's just a thought bubble full of gold, jewels, and other precious things glittering, gleaming, taking in the light. The vision's rendered in almost sensuous detail; viewers can practically feel the weight and smoothness of each stone just looking.]
B. This Little Piggy Went to Market 5/31; Farmer's Market in Lunatia Square
[Now, this is something he understands. Therion browses the Farmer's Market stalls with easy familiarity. The wares are strange--some much stranger than others, why do those melons have muscle?--but a seasoned thief recognizes opportunity when he sees it.
Since Therion hasn't yet generated much Chroma, the produce doesn't take on any of his features. But a fruit here, a trinket there--small items begin to disappear from both booths and market-goers' belongings alike.]
((OOC note: Therion has a permissions post at which you can officially opt your characters in to petty (or not so petty) theft. You don't have to, and he doesn't have to steal from your character to interact with this prompt. He can be caught or confronted after the fact. But the option is there!))
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A. Dreamweaver, Weave Me a Dream
5/25; Greatmoon Groves
i.
[The plant life here make the groves much more comfortable for Therion than pretty much anywhere else he's yet been on the planet. As strange and upsetting as he finds the entire concept of Chroma, Prismatica itself distresses him even more. It's so loud, so bright, so full of "technology" and things he doesn't understand. At least the trees make this place quieter. The smells are cleaner. More familiar.
Familiar, too, is the unfortunate prevalence of bugs. Therion knows to avoid the Viscosus Bees by now, but he's not ready for the giant butterflies. He retreats to the edge of the grove, pressing his scarf over his nose and mouth while he sneezes his head off, and finally settles under a tree to catch his breath.]
ii.
[Once recovered, he stays under the tree with a small hunk of wood to whittle. He's well into it by the time the pixies show up, so he just swats at them idly, without real rancor. At least the dust they cast off doesn't bother his nose.
The bubbles that bobble up from him look dark and warm. In one, someone holds Therion from behind, arms slung loosely around his waist without trapping his arms. It lets him keep whittling, even in the dream. A campfire crackles nearby. The vibe, as the kids say, is safe.
Another seems comfortably blurred, or, for those who recognize the effects of alcohol, happily tipsy. Therion leans on a tavern bar, a tankard of ale in one hand, but what he's really drinking in are the tales being told all around him--the exploits of a clever thief whose face no one knows.
A third doesn't even feature Therion. It's just a thought bubble full of gold, jewels, and other precious things glittering, gleaming, taking in the light. The vision's rendered in almost sensuous detail; viewers can practically feel the weight and smoothness of each stone just looking.]
B. This Little Piggy Went to Market
5/31; Farmer's Market in Lunatia Square
[Now, this is something he understands. Therion browses the Farmer's Market stalls with easy familiarity. The wares are strange--some much stranger than others, why do those melons have muscle?--but a seasoned thief recognizes opportunity when he sees it.
Since Therion hasn't yet generated much Chroma, the produce doesn't take on any of his features. But a fruit here, a trinket there--small items begin to disappear from both booths and market-goers' belongings alike.]
((OOC note: Therion has a permissions post at which you can officially opt your characters in to petty (or not so petty) theft. You don't have to, and he doesn't have to steal from your character to interact with this prompt. He can be caught or confronted after the fact. But the option is there!))
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