Recent content by Corwin Carmine

Corwin took the time after running away to rest, seemingly out of breath from all the running. Water dripped from them, soaked by the explosion-thrown rush. Somewhere in the rush the abomination was visible, somewhere in the middle. And over there, a leg by the shore. And a tail, over there...

Footsteps echoed in the background along with the rustling of blueprints as Corwin ran from one area to another, busy setting explosives as Vander dueled whatever apparently-saber-resistant creature he was fighting. "Don't know who you talking to-" they started on their way down one hallway...

The Tiefling nodded along to Iymril's explanation, with a briefly bemused expression as if Corwin had no idea what personal failures the professor was alluding to. "I'll try that, then," they responded with a look of concentration, drawing up some old memory of... Well, there'd been a lot of...

And lead they did, off down the hallway. It seemed to take a little while to reorient themselves but they figured it out. The Tiefling was also getting significant impressions of the past's suffering from everyone else around her. Echoes of echoes, as it were, and had to tune most of it out. The...

There was no 'almost' gagging from behind Vander. There a lot of gagging, followed by a lot of cloth noises as Corwin wrapped a scarf around their mouth and nose. Plus a sound that was suspiciously similar to the spray of perfume. They opted not to talk in the meantime. Corwin looked at the...

Corwin stared at the older Sith with widened eyes. "A what? What're we following it for?" They looked around at the piles of corpses, blood, and mixed-up earth, then let out an explosive shrug. "Well, I'm no good at tracking. All just looks like viscera to me." By process of elimination that...

It was certain such places of death always left their scars behind. Corwin had a certain attunement to emotional echoes, albeit much more strongly connected to the living rather than the dead. All the same, as they exhaled air and inhaled the Force, the intensity of death was nearly...

"Oh yeah that clears things right up," they said with mock cheer somewhere in the middle of Vander's face becoming an impromptu pollock painting of blood and sadness. Corwin immediately abandoned the dying man and began poking around the other bodies. A highly niche bit of knowledge weirdly...

The tiefling's tail-tip flicked, pleased with the plan's acceptance. They hadn't been overly convinced they'd be able to blend in all that well to start with. Tieflings weren't that common, much less with Corwin's particular coloration. Which meant lots of lying. Which, y'know, that's fine but...

Corwin, for their part, thought they were hilarious without fail. Obviously. She stared at Vander for a couple of seconds after his initial question. "If you were a traitorous Sith trying to hide from people known for turning traitors into meat salsa, would you build a fortress or hide in a...

Yeah, well, Palpatine's empire suffered so many significant defeats that one of them was used to mark the passage of time. It was hard to keep track of the "important" ones. Carmine also wanted to know if it'd be warmer inside the castle and rolled her eyes at Kissassia or whatever's 'more...

No make up? Unfortunately, impossible for Corwin. It was subtler than usual, but it was there. And waterproof! The rest of the Tiefling's attire was a fairly standard winterized acolyte's tunic and faux-fur-lined poncho-cloak, plus some kind of fancy brand hiking backpack. They didn't look...

"Holding hands? We just met, but I don't mind." Corwin's ever-present smile curled upward at the joke. The Tiefling was reasonably sneaky as they crept along behind Vander, basically just following the other man's lead. As they pondered the degree to which a lavender-colored tiefling might...

Power had rumbled through the room, a silent roar that Carmine heard all too clearly. They went from watching the theatrics from behind a drink to falling to the floor. Reboundings of pain, terror, and death struck them from the servants who died from Arcanos' psychic wail. Yet even through a...

The acolyte in question grumbled. That sounded about right. A Sith traitor? Could a Sith be a traitor, considering what a Sith was supposed to be? Corwin decided not to ask that question out loud and moved on. "Wwweeelll... How many bombs?" They rotated the blueprint clockwise. Then...