[Need, or... is it Lashan again? is an old woman with a scarred face. Quite tall, barrel-chested and broad-shouldered, it's evident she was pretty muscular once and that's not all gone to age. Her Western outfit is pretty masculine but with a divided skirt, and has decorative geometric patterns on it.
When someone's been dead as long as she has they get used to forgetting things but she really should have more context than this. She does remember how to lock down her powers, and that otherwise right now they'd overwhelm her. Her powerset is absurd but for this and for now they're mainly inactive - she can pick up on if a person or etc is magic, she can sense the emotions of someone close by, she's really a mass of spirit particles pretending very well to be a living body but she can't change them rn]
1 [do I like pie?]
[Lashan... or should it be Need, still? inspects a slice on a plate and uses her fingers to break off a bit of crust. Smells it. It's pleasant enough, but the little circle of things she knows includes this is just a facsimile I set up of my old body and she's pretty sure she hasn't actually eaten in long enough that doing so now would be on the intense side. Does she want that? Can she even handle more than a bite or two?]
Hmn. I don't think I actually need to eat. [She looks up and quirks gray eyebrows in an ironic invitation.] How about you, child?
[Unfortunately she'll say that to a character of any age.]
2 [you can take the spirit out of the sword but you can't take swords out of...]
[How dare there be no weapons. Lashan - yes, today it's Lashan - grumbles as she searches through the town. The best she comes up with for this prompt is one of the multi-tools with a tiny knife in the shop, and a reasonably sized iron bar not totally eaten by rust. She gets one end of that wrapped up to act as a handle and tries to at least get the other end pointy by scraping it against brick and rock and whatever else might work. Scrape, scrape, the sound carries.]
3 [a passable pun for this section: eye have it!]
[The old woman's stubborned the eyes out for a good while and eventually resorted to sitting on a porch, either with her own eyes closed or looking at the sky. She's been presented with an awful lot of these eyes and is completely certain that even before ending up here she wouldn't remember most of them. It's very unpleasant. If you come near, she sounds resigned more than maddened.]
Need | Heralds of Valdemar
When someone's been dead as long as she has they get used to forgetting things but she really should have more context than this. She does remember how to lock down her powers, and that otherwise right now they'd overwhelm her. Her powerset is absurd but for this and for now they're mainly inactive - she can pick up on if a person or etc is magic, she can sense the emotions of someone close by, she's really a mass of spirit particles pretending very well to be a living body but she can't change them rn]
1 [do I like pie?]
[Lashan... or should it be Need, still? inspects a slice on a plate and uses her fingers to break off a bit of crust. Smells it. It's pleasant enough, but the little circle of things she knows includes this is just a facsimile I set up of my old body and she's pretty sure she hasn't actually eaten in long enough that doing so now would be on the intense side. Does she want that? Can she even handle more than a bite or two?]
Hmn. I don't think I actually need to eat. [She looks up and quirks gray eyebrows in an ironic invitation.] How about you, child?
[Unfortunately she'll say that to a character of any age.]
2 [you can take the spirit out of the sword but you can't take swords out of...]
[How dare there be no weapons. Lashan - yes, today it's Lashan - grumbles as she searches through the town. The best she comes up with for this prompt is one of the multi-tools with a tiny knife in the shop, and a reasonably sized iron bar not totally eaten by rust. She gets one end of that wrapped up to act as a handle and tries to at least get the other end pointy by scraping it against brick and rock and whatever else might work. Scrape, scrape, the sound carries.]
3 [a passable pun for this section: eye have it!]
[The old woman's stubborned the eyes out for a good while and eventually resorted to sitting on a porch, either with her own eyes closed or looking at the sky. She's been presented with an awful lot of these eyes and is completely certain that even before ending up here she wouldn't remember most of them. It's very unpleasant. If you come near, she sounds resigned more than maddened.]
You, too? Or am I going mad in my old age?