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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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alecto's tracker
POSTED ON Nov 2, 2020 19:16:55 GMT
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alecto rowe

9 total threads | 0 open threads | 3 finished threads

• looking for volunteers (jaspar duvale) - mission - x

• well fed devils (gavin merlino) - social - x

• embrace the void (katherine fairburne) - dw - x

• the haunting at finis hollow (sven adler) - social - x

• vanilla ice (mclaren mcflurry) - dw - x

• spooky season is over (caspian ludovic) - dw - x
ongoing



• cultist simulator(jaspar duvale)  - mission -  x

• cold with feeling (klara tanner) - mission - x

• into the long night (gavin merlino) - social - x
complete

• thread 1

• thread 2

• thread 3

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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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vanilla ice [dw - ice/ground]
POSTED ON Nov 2, 2020 18:58:49 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


Shoal Cave was a fascinating location in and of itself. A place of freezing temperatures and everlasting ice within one of the hottest, most tropical known regions. There were all sorts of theories that attempted to explain the phenomenon, but seldom few that proved reliably accurate with their research.

Her fur-lined black coat hugged her figure comfortably as she descended into the maw of the cave, moss-green eyes studying the ice-incrusted walls with something akin to interest. Normally she would do these explorations by herself, but Alecto wasn't disillusioned about her own physical capabilities. So she'd hired a guide to take her down into the cave's depths. 

Said guide was already waiting for her, a Steelix by her side. Strange choice considering they were going into tunnels, but Alecto supposed the guide would know better. 

"Yes," her response was bland, curt. "Alecto." Her eyes briefly studied the other woman, but quickly grew dull with disinterest. She motioned to the rest of the cave. "Please lead the way." 

Something flickered on her shoulder, a brief flash of razor-sharp teeth and an impish grin.



 
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notes: ...

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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
awards
71 posts
alecto rowe DOLLARS
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spaces between the stars [sw]
POSTED ON Nov 2, 2020 12:31:09 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


Alecto enjoys these outings as much as she resents them. It is time she could've spend on her research, feverishly pouring over old documents and squinting at words on her pc screen. Yet not everything can be studied from the comfort of her old desk, and so Alecto finds herself walking through tall grasses, the humidity snagging on her dress and making her shiver.

Saint is perched on her shoulder, cackling in that strange, wheezy way of his. He disappears once in a while when something catches his interest, but Alecto does not seem overly worried. In the quiet night that surrounds them, Alecto doubts there is anything that might harm them. 





 

notes: » come all little ghosties, i'll take you away 𝅘𝅥
MADE BY VEL OF GS

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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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71 posts
alecto rowe DOLLARS
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the haunting at finis hollow [alecto]
POSTED ON Nov 2, 2020 11:29:55 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


Cold moss-green eyes survey the trail of blood that stretches down the tunnel and into the darkness. Patches of crimson are smeared on the walls in grotesque patterns, reminding Alecto of some sort of edgy abstract painting. It is, she thinks, terribly garish and in poor taste. The scent of freshly spilled blood sticks to her tongue, and when the woman crouches to study the strange imprints left on the ground, she finds that the blood is still warm to the touch.

Hmmmmm. So she hadn't imagined the inhuman screams from before. 

Finis Hollow is a curious place, and the lore surrounding its existence follows no discernible logic. Like a gaping void that light cannot pierce, the few references Alecto has been able to unearth do little but quickly gloss over the name before moving on to other subjects. The symbols Alecto has found on the cavern walls, however, tell another story. 

Forbidden knowledge tastes like finely aged wine, and is just as tempting. 

So Alecto had easily bypassed the guards earlier with a Teleport, beginning her exploration of the strange symbols etched into every surface of the labyrinthine network of tunnels. Until the screams had interrupted her, that is. 

Now she rises from her crouch, fingers stained red. Common sense would dictate that Alecto should get as far away from this place as possible. Ideally before some League official sticks their nose in here. And yet her eyes follow the trail of blood. There is a sharp hunger in Alecto that won't be sated, that will refuse this shallow dip into the unknown. She needs more. 

Her body shifts to face the looming dark.








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notes:  i did it wooooo

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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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71 posts
alecto rowe DOLLARS
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lovely drapes [sz]
POSTED ON Nov 2, 2020 10:53:36 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


If the image of Alecto voluntarily diving into darkness isn't a metaphor for her life, she doesn't know what is. The moonlight that spills into the corridor doesn't reach far into the stairs and Alecto has to rely on senses other than sight to find a way not to injure herself permanently as she walks down the stairs. Webs gather on her arms - she can felt their silk-like touch over the skin of her hands.

What seems to be a cold flame burns ahead. Alecto stills for a moment, then slowly resumes her walk. Her path leads her into a wide room that she finds familiar - it must be close to the entrance. Moss-green eyes subtly fall on the flickering purple lights - two now - that haunt her steps. She can see the familiar shape, its discolored appearance piquing her interest.

"Come closer, little spirit..." She chants out, her voice echoing strangely in the chamber. There's a safari ball in her hands, and she presents it to the Phantump when it closes the distance between it and herself. 

With a flash of the safari, the pokémon is engulfed. Silence falls over the room, heavy and oppressive. It is time to go. 








notes: catching shiny phantump // end safari thread
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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71 posts
alecto rowe DOLLARS
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lovely drapes [sz]
POSTED ON Nov 1, 2020 20:04:38 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


Her steps are almost soundless in the gloom of this haunted mansion as she makes her way to the end of the corridor. Massive windows are boarded up, but Alecto can see a few beams of moonlight passing through the rotted pieces of wood. As she approaches she can see that the walls are stained with humidity, the wallpaper peeling in a way that reminds Alecto of cheesy horror flicks.

"Ah, more stairs?"

Instead of a door leading to another room, there is a set of stairs at the end of the corridor. They lead down into darkness. Alecto, being Alecto, lets the faint shadow of a grin curl her lips before she slowly makes her way down into the dark.







notes: pass 
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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71 posts
alecto rowe DOLLARS
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well fed devils [c]
POSTED ON Nov 1, 2020 19:49:43 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


Gavin's words might have been softly uttered, but there is a depth of meaning hidden behind their cadence. It immediately catches the woman's attention, that strange familiarity that trickles up the back of her brain, but try as she might there is little to be gleaned from the man's expression. 

The next question Alecto is quick to answer. "The one I know nothing about. Yet." The image of the corrupted Lugia flashes in her mind, and though her countenance remains mostly stoic, there is something hungry in her eyes as she leans a little bit forward. "I have not found a single source detailing the sort of corruption that seems to have twisted your Lugia. It is..." She leans back again, although her next words sound a little breathless, betraying her feelings. "Perplexing." 

There is care in how Alecto chooses her words, but a deep-seated curiosity sneaks past her shields and makes its way to her tongue. "Is it just a weapon? Or does it serve a more interesting purpose?" Uninspired minds bore her; if she is to give herself to whatever this might be, she will do so with the expectation of dissecting all aspects of this current mystery. 





notes:  ...
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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well fed devils [c]
POSTED ON Oct 30, 2020 11:22:35 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


Her hand stops its motion when Gavin nods to it, having barely noticed what it'd been doing until now. At his observation, however, the shadow of a wry smile lifts the corners of her mouth. "I have worked plenty in the light, but I found that society does not look well upon those that try to reach beyond the neat structures of what it deems appropriate." There is an undercurrent of scorn in her voice, much as she tries to hide it. 

A frisson of excitement runs up Alecto's spine when he mentions the legendary, and it shows in the way her eyes gleam. "Most written accounts link Lugia to the Johto region." Her home. "Though different cultural subsects within the region have different interpretations of the legendary." The Guardian of the Seas. The Silvered Serpent. The Peacekeeper. Alecto's fingers twitch and she does her best to quell the urge to reach for her books and point out interesting cross-references. 

Knowledge can be exhilarating.

It does not surprise her that this is a man of means, nor does it surprise her that this supposed organization operates outside the law. It is not difficult to work out these details given the secrecy that has been... requested of her. "Extraordinary ends demand extraordinary means," is all she says, taking another gulp of her coffee and feeling it burn a path down her throat.





notes:  ...
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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Looking for Volunteers [m]
POSTED ON Oct 29, 2020 17:48:13 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


The plan went without a hitch. Spires of ice covered a good portion of the area where Jaspar had been. The basket and the food therein were completely frozen, which made Alecto frown slightly since, well, it was a waste of a perfectly good excellent pie.

The way Alecto's hand went to Jaspar's back, rubbing comforting circles as he heaved, was almost automatic. The woman could sympathize with Jaspar's nausea: teleporting could be disorienting, especially to one's stomach and if you weren't expecting it. Something about the lack of control. "Are you feeling better?"

As Jaspar called out to his Golurk, Alecto looked at the chaotic mess of ice and alien parts that their trap had become. It seemed the ghost was just a tad too enthusiastic. The woman frowned at the shattered remains of a particular alien. For a second she wondered if they were still alive, but quickly dismissed the question.

She stepped over a few arms and legs, the ice crunching under the weight of her boots. A light smirk pulled at her lips. "I call this a success." She nodded, stepping up to Jaspar's side and leaning against him. She peered at the black eye on one of the aliens and winced. Oh, that must've hurt.

The Golurk seemed a bit confused as to what to do now that punching apparently wasn't on the menu. Skyler patted its beefy arm, smiling. "Good job! We need to go back now." She turned to Jaspar. "How many do you think he can carry? Two?" Two should be enough for what they had planned. 

The woman took a roll of silver duck tape out of her pocket and grinned wickedly at Jaspar. "They don't have to be comfortable, do they?" 





notes: golurk airlinesssss
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
awards
71 posts
alecto rowe DOLLARS
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well fed devils [c]
POSTED ON Oct 29, 2020 16:30:36 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


At Gavin's first question, both of Alecto's eyebrows go up and she gives him an incredulous look, wondering for a moment if he's trying to pull her leg (which his faint smile implies). She might've been foolish to challenge him directly not knowing who he was, but how in Arceus' name would she be able to guess that he'd have a corrupted Lugia with him? 

His second question is more interesting and it changes Alecto's previous expression into a thoughtful one. She isn't quick to answer, and takes a few sips of her coffee before speaking. "I think that the wheels of power turn behind closed doors." She looks up at him, her stare almost challenging. "And that those who are part of the change seldom step into the light." 

Her finger absently draws symbols on the table as she continues. "To be in the possession of a corrupted legendary implies a deep well of resources, both financial and otherwise." She'd noticed that strange pokéball he'd used; she'd never seen the like before. "The type of resources that a single individual cannot ever hope to achieve."

She wants to ask him about who he is, but she knows to let him lead the conversation. He's just testing the waters, testing her  - and she's doing the same. They're both circling around each other, although Alecto is perfectly aware of where the power rests in this strange dance.






notes:  ...
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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well fed devils [c]
POSTED ON Oct 28, 2020 20:00:53 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


The dirt roads of Route 117 soon give way to the charming cobbled streets of Verdanturf as Alecto leads Gavin deeper into the town. At this time of the night Verdanturf looks like a skeleton of itself: all moonlit edges and dark crevices where the moonlight doesn't reach. Light pools in the streets from the countless streetlamps that line either side of the wide roads.

Alecto supposes she should have been afraid, but there are worse things than death - and Alecto refuses to be blind to this particular mystery. 

'Better to deal with devils than to be blinded by angels.'

Nestled into a side street is a small bookstore. The sign at the top reads Hoothoot's Reading Nook, but the letters look a bit faded and some are peeling at the edges. When Alecto pushes the front door open, the nearby streetlamp illuminates the words 'The Cryptic Cove' that have been painted onto the glass. 

The bookstore itself is strangely cosy, its shelves filled to the brim with all sorts of books, some of them quite old. Despite the darkness within the room, Alecto makes her way easily between the corridors. She passes a couple of plush, if old, reading armchairs and heads to a door at the back of store, which leads to a set of stairs.

The upper level is clearly a living space. With the ease of familiarity, Alecto hangs her keys at the entrance and turns on the lights. "Welcome to my humble abode," she says, making her way to the kitchen. "If you want you can sit while I make the coffee." A table and four chairs are shoved against the wall. 

She seizes the chance to gather her thoughts then, trying not to feel the weight of the man's presence at her back. Soon enough, the divine scent of coffee fills the small kitchen and Alecto brings two cups to the table, sitting in one of the chairs across from Gavin and sliding a mug his way.

Moss-green eyes look at the brown liquid in her cup for a couple of seconds before she lifts them to meet Gavin's amber ones. "I do not know what is going on," she confesses, her voice laced with steel, "but I want in."




notes:  ...
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
13 height
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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activity check (november)
POSTED ON Oct 28, 2020 18:54:55 GMT
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owli

leto
she, her
twenty-nine
january 13
demisexual
bookstore owner?
13 height
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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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into the long night [c]
POSTED ON Oct 28, 2020 17:12:05 GMT
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"It's not the waking,
it's the rising."


Alecto immediately stills, heart in her throat. The Lugia has shifted slightly, head rearing back as if on the cusp of attacking. Darkness gathers in its maw as it fixes its eyes upon her and Alecto can't help but shiver at the malevolence in that red gaze.

Now that fear has settled into her bones like an old friend, it makes way for the burning curiosity that has shadowed every step of Alecto's life. She inhales deeply, shakily, her eyes slowly and meticulously taking in every inch of the Shadow Lugia. Thoughts of her earlier research and the ritual gone wrong are wiped away from her mind as this new mystery unfolds beautifully in front of her. 

Gavin's comment somehow makes it past the pounding in her ears, but it takes Alecto some time to react. Even more time to shift her eyes away from the beast and onto the man himself. She licks her lips, her mouth gone suddenly dry. "It certainly summoned something." Her voice is a little shaky, perhaps, but it is working. There is an unmistakable hunger in her voice, her usual stoic facade utterly shattered. 

There is nothing she wouldn't do to be able to disassemble the world and peer at its truths. 

"Would you-" She has to clear her throat, her moss-green eyes piercing into Gavin's, beseeching. "Would you perhaps like to discuss this over a cup of coffee?"





notes:  ...
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