Application

[*DM_Duke]

The process would have been taxing, exhausting, but surpisingly effective. For the entire 24 hours he had managed to iconically organise chaos while preventing anyone even the Dabus from touching the vines which were now nice and matured after their 24 hour endurance.
Needless to say that the day afterwards he would have heard an unrelated incident of flayings going on because Dabus were unable to work. A narrow escape one might consider, but then again, being a Sinker, one always lived on the edge of a knife.

With all the reagents provided, Ely looked pleased and presented the Sinker with his offical Namer Badge. He would now leave Dorian to his own creative devices at how he would achieve further entropy in the city, with his only advice narrowed down to "have fun".

Dorian, as of this moment, was now a full-fledge member of the Sinker cast.

[*krandate123]

The entryway of the Hall of Records darkens momentarily as a massive creature pulls open the door. A terrified man draws a blade and rushes the creature, slashing out. The blade strikes true, drawing both blood and an annoyed gaze. With one massive palm the being lifts the man, casually tossing him unceremoniously to the ground a few feet away. Glancing down at the rapidly closing wound, Opkfrumjotunn raises himself to his full height and looks around. Looking down at the man he just dumped on the floor, he asks "Where's the Factol and how do I join?" The troll grins broadly, revealing gruesome fangs and chunks of half-rotted flesh.

[*Midnight]

A further message delivered to Arwyl Swan's Son

  Factor Arwyl

I have already written to you once about my concern over our alliance with The Fated.  The response I received reassured me greatly.  I feel however that there is more that I could do to ensure that justice is carried out in this matter.  To this end I wish to apply for the potion of Factoum.

I would point to the experience I have gained in the prison and what I feel is the dedication with which I have carried out my duties so far.  Furthermore I address this letter to you as opposed to one of the other Factors because I hope that you would understand the severity of the situation should the Sodkillers take advantage of this situation before we do.

Heironeous blessing

Namer Jentia Snyden.

((OOC:My Character has the ten points on her faction badge required for promotion so I thought I'd try here.

[*Cadence]

A response sent via runner:

Namer Snyden,

Thank you for your application. I look forward to reviewing your file in the days to confirm your credentials then proposing your advancement in the faction to fellow officials.

-Arwyl Swan's Son

[*Mr_Otyugh]

After proper evaluation of documentation as well as interviewing the other members of Red Death regarding Jentias performance in field and other duties, a response in a decorative envelope finds its way to Jentias personal locker...

Factotum Snyden,

I have reviewed your credentials and evaluated your performance within the Prison and documentation of the tasks you have performed. As such I have found your actions commendable thus far and a valuable asset to the Mercykiller cause.

Congratulations Factotum Jentia Snyden, among this locker is a key to access lower levels of the Prison as well as meeting halls of the higher-ups. ^{((IC fluff only))}

-Arwyl Swan's Son

Around her would come a rather divided reactions with the recognition of the envelope. Those of less moral view to justice would give looks of disdain to her and couple other namers that show their cheers, showing the division of beliefs of where the faction should go.

[*MimiFearthegn]

Sasha had been to the Festhall many times, but today she entered the building with a certain amount of hesitancy. Instead of heading straight to the shop to check out the latest in Sigil fashion, she stopped in the entrance hall looking around. Eventually she fixed her attention on someone who looked suitably important, and approached them.

"Excuse me," she said politely, but with a bit of nervousness, "How do I apply to join the Sensates?"

[*Veylandemar]

The old elf yawned, feigning weariness to escape a conversation that had drawn on entirely too long. Experiencing mind-gnawing tedium was one thing, certainly, but conversations with Namer Ilvantarm... Entirely another.

She excused herself from the table, cautious not to put too much spring into her step as she quickly fled his presence and escaped into the central hall.

Lucelle paused as she left his field of vision and leant against the arm of a wondrously plush divan that she might better compose herself. Adjusting her spectacles she glanced about the hall, all weariness cast aside now that she'd found herself away from the dull little man.

She toyed with her collar, upon which sat the emblem of the Society of Sensation. The crest marked her as a factotum amidst the Sensates and it would rather seem that very design had caught the eye of a wayward wanderer.

Lucelle looked the woman over, a silvery brow rising above the rims of worn and scratched old spectacles. "A simple enough matter, Miss." She glanced over Sasha's shoulder, looking upon the elaborate waterclock that had recently been installed. "Fortuitously I have some time to spare before my duties hereabouts take me elsewhere. Come, sit a moment?" She gestured to the divan she had leant upon.

"First and foremost, Miss. I am Lucelle Vand'hovar." She offered a warm smile and bowed her head gently. A cascade of silver strands fell free from their perch behind her ears to tumble upon her shoulders.

"To better understand your desire, would it be at all a trouble for you to tell me what you know of the Society and then tell me why it is that you would join us?"

She looked upon the woman, peering over the rims of her spectacles like an old matron. "Take a moment to consider your reply." She smiled again. There was no malice, certainly, but one might gather that their response would be weighed and that the questions were, in themselves, a test.

[*MimiFearthegn]

Sasha looked relieved at not being immediately dismissed, and perched herself on the edge of the divan.

“Thank you,” she said, “My name is Sasha Andor, and its very nice to meet you, Lucelle. As for why I want to join the Sensates. . .” she hesitated for a moment to collect her thoughts, twisting a lock of her black hair around her finger.

“I know that the Society loves art, and exploration, and experiencing new things. I’ve also read that Sensates believe that the world is what can be sensed, and that’s what I’ve always thought – well, at least, that what matters is what we can see, and feel. I don’t normally think about these things a lot, but a recent conversation with a friend made me realize a few things about myself. . .”

She paused, biting her lip, then continued, “I’m from a world with little magic, so maybe I haven’t experienced as much as a lot of people. But I’ve been through a lot the past few years - arriving in Sigil, making my way here, and then leaving to sail the Astral. . a lot of adventures. I know the Sensates collect experiences, and there are probably a few different ones I could share. And I still want to explore the planes, experience them all!”

Sasha seemed to lose some of her nervousness, and gained more enthusiasm as she spoke. But then she paused again, looking at Lucelle, trying to judge the elven womanÂ’s reaction.

[*Veylandemar]

The elf eased against the arm of the divan and listened. She canted her head gently aside as the woman spoke, turning an ear to better hear and block out the sounds of revelry from further into the halls.

When Sasha concluded her explanation, the elf offered a gentle nod. "Might I ask if this is your first visit to the Festhall, Sasha?" Lucelle removed her spectacles, blinking myopically for a moment as her eyes adjusted.

She squinted, briefly looking about, then back to the aspiring applicant. "The reason I ask is that to join our Society, we require that you share some of your experiences, to make them available to others in the form of Sensory Stones."

"Typically, we record one experience per sense. Sight, Hearing, Taste, Smell and Touch." She added. "Though it is not unheard of for aspirants to put forward memories and recounting that make use of multiple senses."

"If you've not made use of a stone before, I can teach you. Know also that imprinting a stone does not steal the memory from your mind, it merely reproduces it in a fashion that others might know it through your perspective."

"If this is something you wish to proceed with, I can act as your guide."

The old elf offered a soft smile.

[*MimiFearthegn]

"Oh, I've been to the Festhall lots of times! For events, and shopping, one time there was even an auction in the cafe over there. . ." Sasha pointed vaguely in the direction of the stairs leading down to the cafe. Most of her nervousness seemed to have faded in the course of the conversation.

She continued: "But I'm afraid I've never used the sensory stones. I was always a little afraid of them, so you might have to teach me."

Then she tilted her head to one side, quizzically, "But how do people record memories that are just one sense? Almost all memories are multiple senses prompting feelings, and emotions. . ."

She paused, as though something had just occurred to her. "Oh . . uhm. . . how public are all sensory stone recordings?"