Arrival (open)

(gonna edit it a little tomorrow when I'm more awake and have had time to think)

(OOC: Please only 1 or 2 people respond. Also, please note: Amaya can't really "speak" and doesn't really understand "modern languages" so gestures and body language may be the only way to communicate with her outside of the campus.)

Amaya had been on this Magma Carlos place for about two moons. Just long enough for the people she understood to be considered her new keeps to show her to her room, get her fed some strange and unusual food, and for them to obtain for her some new clothes. Apparently her old ones were no longer acceptable. Frustrating for her, because it'd taken her a while to make them. They were still working on establishing a more clear line of communication, but certain had been established for Amaya that they made sure she understood: first, she was not allowed to attack, and especially not kill, anybody, no matter how much they frustrated her. Second, she wasn't supposed to tell people where she came from or who she was, or rather, who she was "supposed to be". Tsk. Amaya knew perfectly well who she was. Third, Amaya wasn't supposed to reveal her powers to people. And fourth, no stealing things, no breaking things, no causing destruction of property in general by any methods. Once they'd been sure she knew those four rules, Amaya had been allowed out with supervision. Or at least, that's how it was SUPPOSED to be.

Tired of two days of her coordinator who was supposed to be helping her integrate into "modern" society placing so much emphasis on language, Amaya put on a purple knee-length long-sleeved turtleneck dress, black khaki pants, white sneakers, and her black fingerless gloves, she made sure that the scars on her face were properly covered with black eyeliner so as to look as though they were face paint or temporary tattoos (she had been told this was important, and it helped her feel less self-conscious about it anyway). To make her appearance "blend in" better, as she'd been told, she put on a black "baseball hat" with her hair an antennae sticking out from under that, and she put a backpack on as well, although it was empty. Going out through the window, she found a way to sneak off campus and spent a couple hours wandering around town looking at buildings and not understanding any purpose to any of it. Then again, it was the first time she'd really been out and about in an actual "modern city" since she "woke up"; she'd so far either been asleep or indoors since she'd "woken up" from her "supposed" leap through time.

Even though a lot of people gave her a few strange looks as she was walking down the sidewalks, she didn't think anybody tried to talk to her- not that she would have understood what they were saying or realized they were talking to her anyways. By the time she found some place she actually felt like she could understand enough to enjoy- a clearing of nature among the human jungle of brick, stone, and whatever else it was- the day had already shifted toward later afternoon and her stomach was rather audible every now and again. Walking straight into the grass and trees of the park, it didn't take her too long to get completely lost as she wandered around looking at the trees, touching the bark, bending down to smell the flowers, and generally just enjoying an experience that never seemed to change, no matter the era.

It was already nightfall before she realized it, and from the sound of hooting owls and crickets chirping, she stifled a yawn as it finally occurred to her she didn't know how to get back to the dorms. She shrugged it off, assuming somebody would come looking for her eventually, but the growling in her stomach was actually starting to hurt a little. Feeling a little upset, she smelled what seemed like food in the air, and from there she followed it until she came to what seemed like a small adventuring party sitting in chairs around a fire held in place by a ring of stones and holding sticks with speared meat on them over the fire. Not really sure what was going on, and pretty sure she couldn't talk to them in a way they'd understand anyway, she decided to hide in the bushes until they fell asleep, and then she'd sneak into their campsite and snitch some food.

Of course, things never work out that way. Her stomach growled rather audibly a few minutes after she'd snuck up and hid at the edge of the clearing. She'd forgotten about that. Freezing for a couple seconds, Amaya watched as at least one of the people set their meat spear down near the fire and started to come her way. Knowing she was busted, Amaya quickly turned and started running, tripping and stumbling as she went. She wasn't quite used to these "sneakers" yet. That's when she made an amateur's mistake of looking back for a moment, which is when she ran into a tree with a grunt and blacked out.

(OOC: Yep, that's my plan: she interrupted somebody's campfire cook out and now they're gonna catch her and bring her back to their clearing. She'll wake up shortly, and then what will she find? Students have a secret drinking party? A boy scout outing with supervisors? Or something else? Either way, the plan is, scary stories, cooked hot dogs, and other summer camping delights! Stay tuned! XD )

Amaya heard giggling behind her as she lay there in the field of flowers, watching the clouds roll by, her head in the soft lap of her very best friend. As Rose stroked her antennae, Amaya blushed; Rose knew perfectly well what that would do to her. Amaya shifted uncomfortably, and Rose giggled again. "Awww... what's wrong? You don't like being petted? Well, then, how about a li'l kiss?" Rose giggled, and Amaya felt her face burning as Rose moved ever so slightly, her face coming into view, coming close to hers, Rose's warm breath on her forehead trailing down her nose as her long, silken raven-colored hair swept across her cheeks like the wind's loving touch; Amaya gulped, sweat starting to appear, feeling warmth spreading through her whole body, puckering her lips and raising her head just a little to touch her lips to Rose's, just a second more as Rose's chin brushed against Amaya's nose; Amaya could almost taste-

A sudden stabbing sensation coming from one of her antennae, as if something or somebody grabbed it and smashed it between two rocks, and Amaya was jolted out of her dream like a bolt of lightning. The throbbing in her forehead where she'd run into the tree was less than that from one of her antennae, and she felt the warmth all over her body, so as her face turned a brighter red, she heard somebody speaking gibberish, some male voice, and she counted her stars at leas she'd woken up with her clothes on. Sitting up, her face was scrunched into a mask of fury and her eyes spoke murderous intent as she bared her teeth. Her eyes were all on the closest person, not paying any attention to her surroundings. Screw the rules- anybody who took advantage of her, well, they would just have to die horribly.

He's blue. Looks like a ghost. But he touched me, so he's probably just some race I haven't heard of. Either that, or he's a Willful Corporeal, or whatever those things are that can give themselves a body whenever, and if he is, I'm probably going to go right through him and bang my head on the ground. Either way. Snorting air out her nose she made to get to her feet, but at the same moment she was about to launch her attack something whipped by her; she felt the wind of its passing brush against her antennae and turned to look.

A knife. In a tree. She turned to where it came from and saw.... Shit. A knight. I didn't know those bastards were still roaming the countryside. That makes things more complicated. For now, she decided to sit and observe- there were about a million and a half questions in her mind and it would be stupid of her to show hostility until at least nine or ten of them were answered. She moved so that she was sitting cross-legged and put her hands in her lap, her face taking on a blank expression as she observed.

Amaya watched the person turn to the new arrival and say something; his facial expressions suggested irritation, but for the moment she couldn't determine whether or not they knew each other. When she saw him pull out the knife, she was tempted to do something violent, but then he stabbed himself, and where she expected blood, she didn't smell any, although there was something that looked like a clear blue sludge coming out of him. She raised an eyebrow, watched him start some sort of strange dance, and realized he was supposed to be doing some sort of summoning ritual. She took a moment as he started dancing to look around- she was no stranger to spells and incantations, and some of the materials used might tell her what she was about to face.

Her first observation was the bed- stone and wood, that was good, but whatever she was lying on, it didn't feel as though it was made of purely natural materials. That was her first clue something was wrong. He eyes spotted the runes etched into the grass, and then she just about snorted. None of the styles she'd seen so far had any rituals that matched those symbols. The smell of the flowers also didn't seem to match, and she wasn't getting a vibe of incense.

With narrowed eyes and crossed arms, she turned back to the crazy person dancing. She watched him fall down and disappear, confirming her theory he was some sort of ethereal being. Attacking him physically wouldn't do anything. When he reappeared shortly after, he was red instead of blue and seemed to be acting different. As soon as she saw him, Amaya rolled her eyes and scowled.

Though it may have changed, in her culture, summoning was a tricky art. Most things that could be summoned were predators by nature: in order to summon them and, typically, not die, one required either a Trapping Circle, usually made as a pentacle or a pentagram. True, there were some highly advanced people who had studied and practiced conjurations for years and could do without, but they had to mentally maintain the parameters at all times or they would very likely die by whatever they summoned. More importantly, they knew better to summon something stronger than they were. If he'd been blue before, and he was red now, then by the artisan's trade whatever he'd attempted to summon, if he'd tried to summon something at all, would have to be at least twice as strong as he was in order to entirely change the shade of his being, else he would have been purple. Most spellcasters preferred ritual as well and a much more sophisticated setup. In most rituals she'd seen to date, most demons had specific things associated with them, or rather, more elemental attributes, so things like rocks would be needed for more earthy demons, or water would be present for more oceanic demons. Most importantly, most conjuration rituals, whether they be targeting nonspecific demons or a very certain named one, were preformed skyclad- completely naked- and only using natural materials and only using tools made by the caster's hand, and it was extremely important to prevent interruption by animals or other people, lest some of the very precise calculations be thrown off or something went wrong. This was partially because you could rarely ever tell when a demon was last summoned, and since they were from an elder time anyway, they would respond easier and much faster to things they were familiar with.

True, things could be different now from what Amaya was used to, or this could be a different style, but Amaya doubted it. To prevent it being lost to the ages, rituals and spells were usually sealed in process when they were first made. Once it was performed a certain way, it pretty much always had to be performed that way. On the other hand, to prevent accidents and tampering, and to guard secrets, nobody could just read from a book for the ritual. When they were written down, extra things were added or words and processes were changed to a more symbolic puzzle to mess up whomever was attempting to do it, and the usual result was they would get themselves killed.

Amaya turned to the knight, who, based on what she was guessing, was just some random passerby, to see what they thought. To her surprise, he'd pulled a weapon. She snorted, then stood up on what she assumed was a bed and clapped her hands to try and make the two people notice her. Then, she pointed at the now-red ghost, and with her other hand, she made a twirling motion with her finger next to her head, stuck out her tongue, and half-closed one eye while having the other wide open.

Translation: You're crazy.

Then, she sat down on the bed again, put her hands on her stomach, and then kicked her legs up and fell on her back, miming the act of laughing uncontrollably, taking a couple short breaks to point at him, the runes in the grass, and the candles. Finally, she stood up and placed herself between the knight and what she assumed was some sort of spiritual jester and, looking at the knight, she smiled politely and mimed a curtsy, but from there pointed at his sword and mimed the act of having one of her own and sheathing it.

(OOC: thinking out loud, my thoughts are in the spoiler on thread direction up for discussion.


XD On with the show!~)

Amaya watched carefully, but things didn't seem like they were about to erupt in a bloodbath. She wasn't sure what to do next, but then she felt her stomach rumble again and the smell of the stew struck her again. Giving in to her needs, she wandered over and looked at the pot, sniffing; she didn't think it smelled toxic, but you never knew for sure.

She spotted some bowls and a fork nearby; thinking back to the days when she used to travel around with what was little more than a band of sellswords and assassins she grabbed the bowl and dipped it into the pot, scooping some stew out, then grabbed a fork and sat a little bit away from the fire with a guarded look in her eye and hunched over, like she thought it would be taken from her, as she held the fork like a knife as she devoured the stew like there was a time limit. She chewed with her mouth open and was a little sloppy, but mostly everything managed to make it to her mouth. Basically, her table manners were atrocious, but not something you wouldn't expect from a person who was raised by thieves and brigands in the wild.

(OOC: Had another idea of where to take it for a thread: if there's a source of water nearby, there's swimming in the dark. Catching fireflies is another option, and I can brainstorm more later today)