Time for a Twist

Discussion in 'The Twister's Domain' started by The Twister, Oct 1, 2015.

  1. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    There sits a quiet little table, built from dark wood. Upon its surface sit a lonely pair of six-sided dice, each glistening cleanly as if freshly polished. Upon their pale surfaces are no numbers, nor any symbols, appearing blank.

    Only then do you notice the girl sitting behind the desk, blank eyes staring intently at the untouched dice in front of her. She seems to be a wee Hylian girl, with delicately brushed blonde hair in a bob cut. A pain suddenly strikes in your chest, as if your heart is fearful of something your mind cannot comprehend. Somehow, you didn't notice her face until that exact moment. Peering back at you a faceless face--an invisible grin, a smile overwhelmed with glee and intense malice--a malice so horrifyingly potent yet so incredibly subtle. It was as if a monster of horrifying evil was glimpsed in the fog--you could not be certain of what you saw, yet you nonetheless feared beyond fear that your mind was merely played tricks on you. Nothing so horrible could be a tangible reality. Dread overwhelms you as you realize those unseen eyes are glaring into your watching, horrified gaze.

    Upon the desk rest a pair of hands belonging to the girl, fingers interlaced, clenching each other so hard her knuckles are white. Nonetheless, she grins.

    You realize now, for reasons you do not understand, that it does not matter where this desk appears. Perhaps you see it in a busy street of Castle Town. Maybe it's all alone in a vast meadow. When you look upon the ceiling of a cozy inn, even, the faceless face could be looking back at you. As you unroll a scroll, the desk may pop out as if it was a mere picture book. Indeed, circumstances matters not. The desk and the girl and the faceless face are all seen by you and you alone. Are they a fabric of your imagination? Are they tangible? Do you perceive her? Or does she perceive you?

    It matters not. When you have the desire for a Twist, the Twister shall appear before you. An unseen mouth doesn't move as playful words whisper not into your ear, but into your mind...

    "Eleven little green gems must you forfeit, if you wish to play this game.
    Knowledge or item--what do you call them? Ah, yes, treasures. You must sacrifice one.
    Take your hand and roll my dice. Let the symbols decide your gift.
    If you favor the result, reach your hand into your mind, grasp it, and take it.
    Doing so will forfeit your original treasure to me forevermore.
    Whether you accept my twist, or refuse it, your eleven gems will remain mine."


    For a time, the dice will wait for you--until the red-furred moblin reappears at the year's end. In this span you may play the game once, without consequence. You could always try to roll the dice a second time, but what results will unlikely be in your favor. It becomes suddenly obvious you are unaware how you know this, unless that same whisper imparted this knowledge on you.

    "If, for some reason, my message is not clear enough to you, seek he who spawned me.
    Bother that fool with your questions, as I myself have no time to spare sating your curiosity.
    "

    The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous. It awaits you.
  2. Cloud

    Cloud friend admin

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    Julius sat at the desk in his office, unarmored for once in his thus far stressful week. The nest remedy for stress, as he had come to learn more about himself, was typically reading; history, in particular. He let out a sigh of relief, and glanced at its brown leather cover.

    'History of Snowhead Mountain,' it read. Julius knew plenty about it already -- he was alive when the catastrophic winter some years back had formed it, and had even taken numerous expeditions there when he could. The compendium's actual section of history was rather brief -- it was more a book about the species of plants and animals that had settled there.

    Unsurprisingly, many were there from when Snowhead, as many people proper knew it now, was still the Northern Hills. Julius didn't care much, however -- as he opened the book, content to continue his reading, a rather unexpected event happened.

    It was the Twister, again. Still, he haunted his life. Flexing his jaw, Julius listened to the creature's rant, still aware of what happened the last time he played ots fiendish game.

    "Fine, then I shall roll the dice -- but my wager will be different this time. This time, I wager... Myself. My physical form and body. Do what you shall to this form of mine," Julius said, grabbing the pair of dice and throwing them back down upon the desk after a number of shakes.
  3. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    On the visage which was plainly there but not perceivable, an eyebrow cocked at the most peculiar of offer. The unheard voice sounded like that of a young lass only on the most superficial layer, "I would hardly call your body a treasure."

    As the dice poured from Julius' hand, the pair split into six different dice. As they rolled to a stop atop his desk, six symbols appeared on what had once been blank faces. Simple lines carves the shapes: an eye, a boot, a lever, a quill, a plus symbol, and--before Julius could make out the face on the last die, it abruptly fell apart into a pile of coarse sand atop his desk.

    As Julius next inhaled, he felt a sudden tightness in his chest, gasping desperately for air. Pulled as if by his breath, the sand abruptly flew towards him and into both his mouth and nose. The last thing Julius saw was a faceless face bearing a grin most devious--before his head fell onto the desk with a solid thud, and all to him became black.

    ...

    Sometime later, he suddenly found himself staring at a bookshelf--a familiar one, from a study several rooms over. Strangely, he did not feel alarmed. This all felt perfectly natural. He looked down at his unarmored hands, and found them to be normal, seemingly unchanged. It was, in his mind, perhaps a disappointment. Had that merely been a dream, or an illusion?

    ...An illusion. On a whim, Julius pulled out his Lens of Truth, and again looked upon his hands.

    There was nothing. He tried to reach for a book from the shelf, only for his hand to pass right through. Panic set in, for reasons most obvious. On instinct, Julius took in a sharp breath. He dashed back to his study, and ripped open the door.

    He could not describe this eerie feeling. No one could. The sight of your own corpse. Julius beheld his body slumped on the desk, a pale and sickly green color. Sores and warts covered his body. No, it wasn't a corpse--it looked diseased. His skin was pale as a ghost. Someone would mistake him for some white-colored warted jungle toad, before realizing that body belonged to a Hylian.

    Julius reached forward, to touch his corpse--or as much as an illusion could touch anything tangible. A pain shot through his body, and over the course of several seconds he felt his body rip and sew together its two halves.

    A sudden sharp breath pierced Julius' lips, as he sat upright in his desk again. He was no longer an illusion. His body was solid. He felt groggy and in mild pain, but no different than as if he had awoken with a hangover. Yet, when he looked upon his hands, they were still chalk-white... warted... People would no doubt assume he was sickly and disease, infected with leprosy or some horrible disease...

    Looking to his desk, Julius beheld five faceless dice sitting before him, in a manner that somehow seemed mocking.

    In that moment, he realized this mutilated body of his might be permanent. As he grasped the dice in his hand, sudden knowledge appeared in his mind in the form of words unspoken in the voice of a small Hylian girl.

    "Will yourself to die, and your corpse will collapse. Upon doing so, your old body will appear--an illusion.
    Your illusive body can act, see, hear, speak, and even travel any distance as your body can, but never touch nor be touched.
    Your illusive body can push through wooden walls and most materials as a spectre can, but is trapped by stone, dirt, metal, and earth, unable to push through such boundaries.
    You can return to your corpse and bring it to life merely by grazing it, as you have already done.
    When your corpse truly dies, however, you will become an illusion forevermore: unable to touch, unable to feel, unable to die."

    Unlike last time, there was no hint given as to how this twist could be undone. Perhaps the grotesque visage of his face could be somewhat covered with makeup or an illusion, but Julius knew this twist to be his fate. Such, perhaps, was the price of sacrificing a trinket instead of a treasure.
  4. Blonde Panther

    Blonde Panther Not always sweet and delicate vet

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    Eri stopped, shyly hiding behind a tree as she looked at the desk that had appeared. One moment she had been skipping through a forest, all alone, and the next, she had seen it appear from the corner of her eye. The little girl behind it had come out of nowhere along with her things. Normally, Eri would have approached her and made friends, but something was... odd about her. Not right. Scary. Still, the girl hadn't moved or tried to attack her since she had appeared. She just... sat there. Her fingers brushing over a pair of dice...

    "Ummm..." Carefully, Eri left her tree. She shuffled over to the desk, one foot in front of the other, slowly and cautiously. The girl noticed her, looking at her with a faceless face. Somehow, that was the LEAST confusing thing about her. Eri tilted her head when the girl's voice sounded in her head, telling her about the game. Games? Eri loved games! Maybe the girl wasn't so bad after all! Reaching up, Eri put eleven of her little green gems on the desk, one by one, and then grabbed the dice, one in each hand. She shut her eyes. She didn't know what the girl had been talking about when she'd mentioned 'treasures.' However, maybe the gift she was talking about would do something about light making her skin itch so badly!

    With that thought, Eri threw the dice onto the desk. First with her left hand.... and then with her right. She then started hopping up and down, hoping to see the result of her throws.

    {Twisting Eri's Undead trait.
    -11 Rupees, leaving her at 9.}
  5. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    As the dice left either of Eri's hands, they bounced several times off the desk's surface, echoing with amplified noise through the forest that surrounded them. The cubes' hues changed from white to green, a deeper shade with every bounce, until finally they settled upon the wood with a deep sage green hue. Eri could see nothing on their faces, but as she looked closer, both dice exploded apart into twin vortexes of sharp green wind.

    Although the tornadoes began no larger than thumbs, they rapidly grew larger and more powerful. Leaves and dirt were ripped from the forest floor as the two twisters fused, growing larger and larger atop the desk--until the desk itself, and even the little girl sitting across from it where hurled into the sky.

    Yet, Eri found herself staring up at the gigantic, forest-destroying twister with no sense of danger. She couldn't even feel the slightest tug of wind on her body, though leaves and debris did splat against her dress on their way to the tornado itself.

    Suddenly, just as everything had begun, it all came to a stop. The twister vanished in an instant, and everything came crashing back down to earth. Ripped form the sky, the desk and several colossal trees smashed apart with a ruckus a short distance away--and Eri's feet moved as if on their own to inspect the pile of shrapnel wood. As she moved, however, Eri felt something she could not fathom, much less describe. There was an odd spring in her step, an energy in her stride.

    Looking down at her hands, Eri was shocked to see a lively color to them--somewhat pale, with a refreshing green tint to them. Her skin was indeed completely different, no longer red, nor pink, or even blue. Her flesh was life. She was alive.

    Instinctively her hands moved to her face, and she felt warm and living skin, with a face resembling that of a Kokiri. Yet, she did not have normal teeth--they were still sharp fangs. Furthermore, she could see the dull glow of orange eyes off her hands. Indeed, some features seemed to have remained. Was this because of her Skull Kid origins? Was she a Kokiri before? Kokiri often had green hair, so on instinct Eri moved to touch--what the hell this is not hair.

    Eri forcefully plucked something from her head, finding a leaf in her hand. What the fuck was she a Deku Scrub. No, she had skin now. Yet, her eyes belonged to either a Deku or a Skull Child. Her fangs were unmistakably Skull Child. And her 'hair' was unmistakably Deku.

    As Eri dropped the leaf to the ground, she saw the familiar sight of a Leaf Puppet spring up in its place. Indeed, these leaves seemed to double as her Maple Leaves, though presumably with all the same limitations. Not that she noticed it at the time, but as soon as Eri's Maple Leaf had been dropped, a new one grew in place of it on her scalp.

    ...

    With all these radical, unbelievable changes, Eri only now came to a sudden realization: what happened to that blonde girl?

    In the exact moment that thought came to fruition, a maiden's whisper lingered at Eri's ear. The soft, young voice came from nowhere, yet everywhere all at once--form the debris which surrounded her. "The sun is your foe no longer. Instead, be grateful for those earrings."

    "Should you refute my gift--and seek the cold, welcoming embrace of undeath once more--swallow a fragment of darkness. This experience, your ignorance of wind, and all it has wrought will then be forgotten."

    The voice faded, and silence again fell on the forest.
  6. Devil-Steel

    Devil-Steel Your friendly neighborhood devil reg

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    Samanosuke had only recently returned to Ruto from his mission with Dogath and the others and was now stretched out on one of the dunes as the sun began to set in the distance. A chill ran down his spine, and the young Hylian thought it was from the air getting cooler. Upon opening his eyes he was greeted by the sight of a table made out of dark wood, with a small Hylian girl sitting behind it. His first instinct was to treat her as the child she appeared to be, much like he had done with Dogath when he had first met him, it was then that the pain in his chest set in as he finally came to realize that the girl didn't have a face.

    This must be the Twister that he had heard rumors about. Truth be told he had never once thought the rumors to be true, but there was no mistaking them for the truth now. Nervously he would gulp as the girls voice echoed through his mind as his eyes drifted down to the blank dice. Slowly he would reach into his adventure pouch and pull out a handful of rupees and place them on the desk one at a time, his eyes never once leaving the unsettling face of the girl. As if the fear that something terrible would happen to him the moment he took his eyes off of her.

    Once he had eleven rupees on the table he would finally speak up. "You must be the Twister that I've heard whispers about." While he was trying to mask the fear in his voice, he wasn't doing too good of a job at it. "I'll admit, I had thought that the rumors were nothing more than just that, rumors. Here you are though, sure as I'm sitting here. You do exist." He wasn't trying to be disrespectful, but between the fear he felt and disbelief that such a being actually existed he might have come off that way accidentally. "I offer you the only treasure that my father was able to pass onto me. I give to you my Spin Attack to do with what you will." With that, the boy would pick up the dice and give them a shake before tossing them onto the table. The die had been cast, just what was in store for Samanosuke?

    (Will adjust my rupees once the twist is done.)
  7. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    “Oh my, but you’re a handsome one, aren’t you?” A sultry voice whispered in his ear, the heat and moisture caressing that side of his face. And yet, when he turned to find its source, nothing but empty air. His eyes returned to the faceless girl, the abrupt words having unintentionally broken his gaze. And yet, hers had never left him, despite her lacking anything with which to do so. He got the unnerving feeling that she was assessing, appraising him with each passing second.


    “But, how sad, boy, that you would give up your inheritance so easily.” That breathy sound rang out against his ear again, only on the other side now. He would not bother to turn his head this time, an action which seemed to make the girl laugh silently. “Is that only a thin veneer of stoicism and honor I see on your face? Is your heart truly so easily swayed? No, I think I want more.”


    A blinding pain as red and black swam in his gaze, forcing Samanosuke to fall to a single knee. “There, a matching item, something that, too, was inherited from your father.” She giggled audibly this time, and as the pain cleared a bit, he realized with horror that she had plucked an eye from its socket, that all that was left was an empty, gaping hole. He looked down at the dice with his remaining eye: a one and a two. Did it even matter anymore?


    And then, burning, searing pain again returned to that socket, like molten gold were being poured into his head. He screamed out in agony as the pain felt like it might bore a hole through his brain. Then finally it stopped, replaced by the dull throbbing of an old wound. He blinked, once, twice. Realizing that he could see from both eyes again, and yet, something was different. The eye had been replaced, but with one not of his own. Samanosuke unsheathed his blade, looking at his own reflection in the shimmering steel, to see a golden orb sitting there in his head. Intricately carved, resembling more a bauble for the rich rather than an eye, was a metallic orb.


    He had his vision again, but it seemed different than before, perhaps even better now. The Hylian was instilled with the knowledge of this new artifact, realizing that he could see things both near and far, not unlike a certain headpiece designed after a hawk. He knew, too, that its sight would not cease to function even if it were removed from his head: so long as he remained within a mile’s distance, he could see the sites it saw, as if he were there himself.


    As loathe as I am to give up my new prize, should you desire that globe once more

    You need only find a seed of gales and plant it with the gold,

    And as it grows hale and strong, so too will be what is returned to you.
  8. Devil-Steel

    Devil-Steel Your friendly neighborhood devil reg

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    In the middle of a meadow, below a tall tree sat a lone Moblin. He sat there and watched as the world passed him by oh so peacefully. He was far enough away from the main road that most wouldn't see him, and those that did likely wouldn't be able to make out the fact that he was a Moblin. So this was one of the rare instances where Sandal could be found outside of his armor.

    The armor he usually wore sat beside him neatly, and was freshly cleaned and polished. Oh how Sandal loved this set of armor. While he had many different sets, this was the only set that he ever wore. The rest were only used for him to tinker with and practice his craft on. While the armor that sat beside him was more of a second skin to him as he never went anywhere without it on, and rarely ever took it off.

    Out of nowhere a desk would appear next to him under the tree with a strange faceless girl sitting behind it. Sandal, unlike many others didn't come to fear the visage that was sitting behind the desk. No, the dumb Moblin was overjoyed to meet someone that he thought couldn't see him for what he was! Someone that he wouldn't have to hide from the first time he met them!

    A smile would spread across his dog-like face as he looked at the girl, but before he could say anything the Twisters voice was already running through his mind. For a moment he would be puzzled, but quickly enough figured out what it was that the words had meant. Reaching into his adventure pouch Sandal would drop a handful of rupees onto the desk, fifteen in total. Sandal never had been amazing at counting after all. Once he had the money down he would lift up his pile of armor and place it on the desk. "My treasure!"

    While his armor was a far cry from what the Twister had truly meant by a treasure, it was by far the item that was most important to Sandal. It was his current masterpiece after all. Each time he perfected a technique on a different piece of armor he would always find time to use it on this set of armor to make it better. While he hadn't reached the level where he could work materials such as Goron Iron or Mirror Silver into his armor, he would one day. He wanted to become such a great outfitter that everyone would have to accept him! This was the armor set that he was going to use to make it happen!

    Lifting up the dice he would shake them a few times before dropping them on the desk, the large smile still on his face.

    (Please twist Sandal's armor, as it is his most precious 'treasure'. Will adjust rupees after the twist. Julius has agreed to loan him 5 rupees..)
    Last edited: Oct 5, 2015
  9. Squishy

    Squishy tl;dr this is all, still, toko's fault admin

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    Silas had not meant to run into this... this thing. He had simply been pacing around the halls, as he often did when he wanted to think. So lost in thought had he been that he did not notice where he went. And when he did, he found he did not recognise the empty corridor he found himself in.

    A sense of dread came down over him. He, as a loyal Sheikah, prided himself in knowing every single nook and cranny of this place. How could he have missed an entire corridor?

    The man did not get long to dwell on his possible failings, as an eerie voice sounded out behind him. He had not noticed the child before either. Was he going mad? Had the strain of his recent missions become too much on his mind?

    No. With growing dread, he realised what he had run into. He had heard the tales before, of a strange, childlike entity who offered to play a game in return for a 'treasure' of any kind. As if hypnotised, Silas approached the table, eyes on the dice.

    "Sacrifice a treasure, huh?" He muttered, a nervous giggle escaping his lips. He knew he should turn away, that nothing good would come of this. And yet he found himself entranced.

    The Sheikah took his wounded arm from its sling, wincing at the movement. He clumsily picked up the dice, one by one, fingers stiff with disuse. Silas looked at the faceless girl.

    "I bet you already know what I want to wager, right?"

    A searing pain shot up his arm as he shook the dice in his hand.

    "I wager my arm," Only the barest hint of pain seemed into his voice. "A Sheikah's treasure is their body, honed from youth to carry out our mission." Blood rushed in his ears, his vision narrowing to the faceless girl before him. Everything else started to go dark. "And I wager all I've learned with it."

    The falling of the dice became a deafening sound in his ears.

    [Silas wagers his wounded arm, flame choke and barrier. He hands in 22 rupees for this. Make my day, Twister :kermit:]
  10. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    A crack of lightning abruptly pierced the forest sky, daylight smothered by an eerie darkness almost instantly. The faceless face twitched, staring blankly with unseen eyes at the pile of metal laid before her.

    The dice fell onto the desk with a wet splat, melting instantly into some grotesque, foul-smelling stench not unlike rotting milk. The small, childish voice seemed mocking in its tone, "Fifteen rupees? Ah, yes, that seems like an appropriate recycling fee."

    In the blink of an eye, the hunk of metal that was Sandal's armor smashed, heated, compressed, and separated, until the various materials that had made it up laid separately across the desk. "It is important to recycle metals. You don't want those toxic chemicals filling landfills now, do you?"

    Saying nothing more, the girl slowly vanished into thin air, right before Sandal's eyes. Even her desk disappeared, flopping the metal and the melted dice onto the grass beneath it with a pathetic sound.

    ...Sandal realized if he wanted his armor back, he would have to make it again from scratch.
  11. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    Soon all Silas beheld was darkness, masked by a face without a face. Unseen lips moved as if to form words, but all that rang from this mouth was the sound of clacking dice. Eyes formed--visible, solid eyes--with long lashes and lids closed. A most mischievous grin grew unseen beneath it.

    The eyes opened with a flash, huge and blindingly bright eyes of white--no, not eyes, dice, spilling forth from gaping eye sockets. Before Silas, the cubes rolled to a steady stop. Upon the face of one was the scratched symbol of a shield. Upon the other was what appeared to be a Goron's hand--rolled up into a fist.

    PAIN.

    SEARING, UNBELIEVABLE, INDESCRIBABLE PAIN.

    Silas saw everything before him once more, red, quivering. His eyes darted to the pain--a FOUNTAIN OF BLOOD gushing from his shoulder. His lungs exploded with indescribable agony. His body fell to the floor, sobbing and screaming uncontrollably as a pool of his own blood gushed forth at a rate that would surely kill him. Nerves struggled and suffered to feel an arm that was no longer there--which was no longer anywhere. Gasping, panting, hyperventilating. Never has his heart beat so hard in his chest--and never had he needed it to stop so badly.

    Slowly, painfully slowly, a soothing numbness and comfort washed over his entire body--including the severed limb. It was cold, but welcoming. Silas could only believe it was the sweet embrace of death, something he craved more than words could ever hope to describe.

    As his nerves flailed and desperately reached, they finally found something--though it was alien, foreign, and unlike anything known before. Through teary eyes, Silas looked towards the void of his arm--forgetting somehow that it was not there.

    Except, it was. No, not his arm. Something else.

    Floating on its own was a gigantic hand carved from stone--no, a glistening silvery metal. The palm was a carved square, and each segment of his fingers and thumb was a cube that floated in place as if by magnetism. The entire hand was so huge that he could have palmed his head like a grapefruit. Wait, could he--y... yes, it twitched slightly, though moving it at all felt so bizarre and painful. Maybe that would become easier with time...

    ...Only then did it dawn on him fully that this was his new limb: a giant hand that floated astride him, defying gravity. He assumed with practice it could move and extend to the full reach of his old arm--and it certainly felt more powerful than his old hand. In a flash, he remembered the face of one die--a Goron's fist. That felt accurate. It appeared to be as hard as steel--somewhat numb to Silas, perhaps because it was indeed some kind of living metal devoid of nerves.

    A spark suddenly appeared in his mind, and he knew without knowing: this mechanical hand was coated with a reflective silver. As it did not live, it could not be magically cured if damaged. Instead, it could repair on its own--even if completely obliterated--in less than a day. It became suddenly obvious that was what happened when his arm was obliterated--this new hand healed itself for him, and even sealed the wound on his shoulder.

    Only now did he realize it had become twilight... How long had he seen black? How long had he been writhing in pain? There was no doubt he last saw that little girl hours ago...

    ...and yet her voice lingered a whisper in his mind.

    "If you favor flesh and flame over steel and silver, tightly grasp a splintering fragment, and in due time machine will revert to Hylian."
  12. Devil-Steel

    Devil-Steel Your friendly neighborhood devil reg

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    Sandal could only watch as his treasure melted before his eyes. It was heart wrenching for him to watch. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Luckily for the little girl, she had left before Sandal's tears had turned to full on crying. Had you ever seen, or heard, a common moblin cry? It was a horrific sight to see or hear.

    After a few minutes of wailing Sandal would realize that he had drawn the attention of some of the Hylian guards. Quickly the moblin would grab what remained of his armor before running off towards his home. It would take some time, but Sandal would be able to fix his armor given enough time, and time was all he had.
  13. Devil-Steel

    Devil-Steel Your friendly neighborhood devil reg

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    Sandal was walking down a dirt road when a familiar figure appeared only a few feet in front of him. He would stop dead in his tracks as the memory of his armor melting played over and over in his mind. A mixture of anger and fear flooded over him. Part of him wanted to attack the figure, though his instincts told him that doing something like that was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad idea.

    Slowly the Moblin would make his way up to the table and look down at the dice once more. Gulping he would reach into his adventure pouch. Slowly he would pull out a handful of rupees and drop them on the table, eleven of them exactly. He would once more reach into his pouch and pull out a bottle of Blue Fire and set it on the table. "New Treasure." Hesitantly he would pick up the dice and give them a shake before casting them back onto the table. Once again his fate was in the hands of the Twister.

    (Will adjust my rupees after the twist is done.)
  14. Eternis

    Eternis Page of Time reg

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    Bragi dropped down to the twisted tent of temptation,landing softly on the ground before entering. It had been a long search for something that could solve his problem, finally finding this. He had taken quite a while to narrow down the location, flying for hours until he'd spotted it.

    He walked inside, laying down two blue rupees, one green, and a small golden pin of a harp before picking up the dice.
    "I gamble with my experience as a minstrel, mistress of chaos. Not with the songs in my head, mind you. They will stay a reminder of older days that I'd quite like to retain, but... Heh."
    He tossed the dice, spreading his wings open wide.
    "Let the dice fall as they may."

    ((Note that the 'Minstrel Profession' Bragi's twisting is from before the update, so the description is in the profile.))
    Last edited: Oct 14, 2015
  15. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    Sandal felt an unseen hand, bony if not outright skeletal, grip his head, rip backwards, and pry his face from his skull with a loud and painful peeling noise. Agony filled him, but in this pain his body refused to move. He felt limp, dangling, and exposed, like a puppet.

    Meanwhile, the little girl rested her chin on one hand, paying him no mind. Her free hand idly slipped side to side through the chilly blue fire, as if trying to entertain herself, but quickly growing bored before any amusement could even grow within her. Nonchalantly, she stood up, and begin to walk away. In an almost disturbingly normal voice, she commented, "I'm bored of that fire. I'm bored of that mask. I'm bored of that face."

    Sandal's unmoving, faceless body collapsed into the dirt, as if the strings holding up his puppet form had been severed. He felt strangely like a toy that had been thrown back in its toybox, only to collect dust in its helpless boredom.

    ...

    The pain of his faceless face grew to be numbing. Minutes passed. Hours. Had it been days? He could see nothing. Hear nothing. But he was aware of himself. Finally, there came a sudden breeze...

    A painful cold hit Sandal in the gut, and he startled up, as if knocked out of a trance. The Blue Fire he had offered was next to him... The breeze must have pushed it off, and bounced it off his belly. His hands moved to his face, feeling flesh there, no numbness or pain. Everything seemed to have returned to normal--save seven rupees missing from his wallet.

    ...

    Sandal realized, in the back of his mind, it might be best to not search for this girl again anytime soon. The face behind him realized it as well, if it was wise.
  16. The Twister

    The Twister The faceless face grows a grin most mischievous.

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    As Bragi released the dice in a particularly dramatic fashion, they simply bounced and rolled off the table like the most mundane dice to have ever existed--not even increasing or decreasing in number. One bounced up to show what appeared to be a bleeding wound, while the other rolled over to depict a solitary green rupee.

    A cold chord struck in Bragi's heart. Something had been forgotten. Something felt less cheerful. He felt less hopeful, less charismatic. It was as if he was facing several cold realities of the world all at once, in a manner internal only to his mind, in ways he could not even fathom much less portray in any clear line of words.

    With this dull emotional pain, he found in it a note--a strong of notes--an inspiration born from sadness and melancholy. Even as a new song completely of his own design was forming in his head, he couldn't feel happy about it. Something about all of this felt too real--too cold, too unfeeling. The sound was wondrous, a masterpiece perhaps, and yet he felt nothing from it. It was cold, hard, unfeeling... dark, and greedy... just like a rupoor.

    It was... he might call it... the Aria of Avarice.

    When it is played for and heard by a specific individual Bragi can see, that individual will soon feel an overwhelming and crushing despair, not unlike what Bragi feels now. That despair instead will not turn into inspiration, but instead into greed. Through this avarice, that individual will soon find a way to earn extra rupees he wouldn't have thought on before... for better or worse.

    (This effect allows Bragi to grant himself or any other one character a specific boon once per quest or dungeon. The affected individual will earn 15 rupees more than normal, but cannot share them with other characters. The individual can gain additional rupees through Profession or Crafting, but not through other rupee-earning treasures such as Rupoor Supply or Nose for Treasure. The affected individual is also more likely to be moody, irritable, or annoyed for the duration of the dungeon or quest.)