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       #Post#: 1149--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Omen War
       By: Jenn B. Date: May 14, 2025, 11:25 pm
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       Geoffrey Wodeward
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       [br]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]To all things housed in her
       silence[/font][br]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Nature offers a violence[/font][br]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif][/font]
       [hr]
       "Not necessarily." He pointed out, thoughtfully. "Still a bit
       young. Not grown to your full strength."  he looked back; for a
       moment, he could have been talking to either of them. Yorick or
       the shadow that followed them. [br]
       He looked back, catching the shadow of a face he hadn't seen in
       centuries. He stared back, one hand leaving the reins like he
       could reach back for him.
       "I tried. For a time." To watch over him, that younger brother
       it was clear he cared for, was protective of. "It's better to
       leave your life behind with the sun, though. For them. For you.
       These nights it's all but expected." He paused again, facing
       forward. "But he had a good life. A full one." Another pause;
       the question about descendants hanging like one he hadn't
       thought of too deeply before.[br]
       "I suppose it's possible, but I'm not sure how you'd find out.
       We weren't important people." They weren't kings or lords or
       anything so high, that was. Nothing a historian would be so
       interested to capture for posterity. [br]
       He left the horse at the edge of the burned out village,
       dismounting to amble through it on foot. [br]
       "I think I've found something." He sounded as surprised as
       anything by the coincidence, the luck. "In the basement of his
       burned out shop, he left a box of things. His botanica. Some
       letters. It wound up at auction in the 1920s, and by providence,
       one of my kind acquired it. Someone I know." [br]
       He stopped in front of the remnants of a burned out building
       that felt familiar to him and dropped to his knees in the snow.
       Head bowed a moment in contemplation.[br]
       "I'll get it. I'll go bargain with him for it."
       #Post#: 1151--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Omen War
       By: MAT Date: May 16, 2025, 9:27 pm
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       Yorick Tsipras
  HTML https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1F3tCmvXqFTlAT1j9JHc8k280TMxJzRNNPcuFY1Mi33Q/edit?usp=drive_link
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       max=45%]
  HTML https://splatomat.com/personal/images/DH/yorick/yurik.jpg[/float]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Do not stand at my grave and weep[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]I am not there, I do not sleep[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Do not stand at my grave and cry[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]I am not there, I do not die[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Euthanatos | Notoriety 2 | Medium[/font]
       [hr]
       He was silent, and it seemed clear that he was about to talk
       about something, but then decided not to. Being cut off from
       family and the people he knew was something he had gone through
       too, though it hadn’t been by choice. He’d spent all of age 12
       in a coma, and woke up having lost literally everything he’d
       ever known.
       When he did speak again, it was to answer Geoffrey’s
       speculation. “Important people…” He turned that phrase over in
       his mouth. “Ahh. I understand.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t
       matter. It isn’t an issue of history books or civic records.
       I’ve mentioned the concept of identity a few times - you share a
       part of your identity with every other person who shares your
       blood. Your brother, any nieces and nephews, their children,
       their grandchildren, all the way into the modern age. If the
       bloodline continued uninterrupted, and you do have descendants
       still alive today, finding them might use the same kind of magic
       I’m going to try and use to find your friend.”
       It wasn’t an offer to do that. But it was an implication.
       Yorick squinted when Geoff told him about finding something. It
       seemed like an incredible coincidence. So incredible it couldn’t
       be accounted for by random chance. An extraordinary turn, just
       when it was needed.
       “Providence…hmm.” Sometimes the Fates weren’t mean girls. “I
       actually believe in providence. I believe that the gods
       intervene to make their will manifest. That they intervene for
       desperate needs, or for good and righteous causes.”
       He examined the burned out ruins, then looked back to Geoffrey.
       “Do you?” The tone of his voice suggested that the question
       wasn’t rhetorical.
       #Post#: 1152--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Omen War
       By: Jenn B. Date: May 20, 2025, 11:51 pm
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       Geoffrey Wodeward
       [float=right
       max=45%][img]
  HTML https://sharedalbums.b-cdn.net/c0885f09-5d09-426b-8312-77b688531fa9.png?rotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=imagerotate=0&width=800&height=800&optimizer=imagee[/img][/float]
       [br]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]To all things housed in her
       silence[/font][br]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Nature offers a violence[/font][br]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif][/font]
       [hr]
       He took a moment to turn that over. He'd never thought of the
       possibility, having a legacy like that. Henry having a legacy
       like that. Over the long centuries, he'd just lost track of the
       individuals, drifting away into the world of the night. [br]
       The place, however, still held some lingering fondness. That bit
       of forest that still survived to this night.[br]
       "Just as you could be his." He remembered the possibility. Yurik
       had always sworn that his child had died with his mortal wife,
       but there was always a possibility that he could have been
       somehow wrong. Or something else. They spoke of so many things,
       shared so much and yet there was probably plenty left
       unsaid.[br]
       "We don't reveal ourselves to humans." He countered as he put a
       hand to the ground to get to his feet. "It's become one of our
       strictest laws. We've seen what happens when they grow too keen
       of our nature." A monster that noone believed in and noone knew
       to look for was a far more succesful predator. [br]
       He dusted snow off his cloak, picking his way into the ruined
       and burned out building. As if emphasizing that previous point:
       what happens when humans grew too keen.[br]
       "Providence." He repeated, a note of incredulity in his tone.
       The notion of divine Providence wasnt unfamiliar to him, but the
       idea of it struck him sharply. He paused again, looking down at
       his feet. [br]
       "I do believe in it." He answered, warily. "Though what god
       would put their hand to me, I could not say.I am far from good,
       and by no means righteous." [br]
       He turned his head over his shoulder to look at Yorick
       quietly.[br]
       "Either way. It'd be nice to read his letters."
       #Post#: 1160--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Omen War
       By: MAT Date: December 16, 2025, 11:30 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Yorick Tsipras
  HTML https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1F3tCmvXqFTlAT1j9JHc8k280TMxJzRNNPcuFY1Mi33Q/edit?usp=drive_link
       [float=right
       max=45%]
  HTML https://splatomat.com/personal/images/DH/yorick/yurik.jpg[/float]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Do not stand at my grave and weep[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]I am not there, I do not sleep[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Do not stand at my grave and cry[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]I am not there, I do not die[/font]
       [font=Arial, sans-serif]Euthanatos | Notoriety 2 | Medium[/font]
       [hr]
       Yorick stiffened a little at Geoffrey's reminder that he was
       possibly a living anchor. Something about it unsettled him at
       the same time that it intrigued him. He thought that it ought to
       only do the former and not the latter. That unraveling this
       particular mystery was somehow a bit profane. He was already on
       thin ice with his peers. If any of them ever found out what he
       was doing - consorting with a vampire -  the accusations would
       flow quickly and freely.
       Still, he had to know. Nine centuries was such a long time but
       the coincidences had piled up to a degree that they couldn't be
       ignored. Was he carrying another man’s soul; was it fueling his
       atman? The kyklos geneseo central to the Euthanatos paradigm
       clearly allowed for it. Or was he just a long distant descendant
       of a man who had suffered in way that mirrored his own
       suffering; some cosmic play repeating through history?
       “I didn’t suggest you should reveal yourself. The knowledge
       might bring something to your heart though.” Something good,
       maybe. Something that might one day let Geoffrey let go and
       return to the Wheel.
       He shrugged.
       “My gods aren’t moral exemplars embodying goodness or
       righteousness. They embody order, measure, balance, reciprocity,
       and fate. You don’t ask if a storm is good. You acknowledge its
       existence, learn about its nature, try to predict its behavior,
       and respect its power as a matter of survival. The power of a
       storm can water drought-stricken crops or drown a village, maybe
       at the same time. So to me, when you ask what god would put
       their hand to you, many names come to mind. But even the
       conventional Christian god works in mysterious ways - or so they
       say.”
       Yorick picked his way through the ruins. Everything in this
       place felt cold and numb. He didn’t know if it was his emotions
       painting the environment or Geoffrey’s.
       
       “I don’t really need to read them to do what I want to try. But
       if you’re willing, I’d like to. I don’t have anything of my…true
       parents. No pictures, or writings, or property. I never even
       tried to look for any other living relatives; I had a new family
       and that was all that mattered. If he was a distant ancestor,
       then maybe some knowledge could be brought to my heart, too.”
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