Fanasty (Spelling?) RP (No bloody gory stuff though)

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"Extremely close, I see the bright pink from his merciful laugh.
Oh, I forgot to tell you, another faerie ability of mine is to see colours with any noise. Even when somebody is thinking, I can see the shade of their thoughts. Your thoughts have been mostly grey, but then I see a little yellow...a little hope."

"I see, don't be frightened by any colors you may see. The battle may get intense. Plus, the hatred I have for him may intensify when I see him again. But don't worry, I won't hurt you."

Name: Kelevan Torisec Lantee
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown - appears middle-aged.
Species: Purestrain Human.
Land: Indeterminate
Occupation: Wandering Technomancer
Magic: 100% magic resistance of variable radius.
Background: Unknown - Rumored to be the last surviving Atlantean.
Strength: Intuitive understanding of all things tech.
Weakness: Honest women

Description: 2 meters tall, 100 kilograms mass. Auburn hair (greying at the temples) cut short. Green eyes. Broad-shouldered. Narrow-waisted. Muscular, but not muscle-bound. Medium-pale complexion. Dresses in khaki-colored travel clothes and a wide-brimmed hat. Leather gloves and boots.

Behavior: Rarely smiles or speaks. Carries a dagger and a fencing foil for defensive purposes only. Dislikes crowds and noise. Enjoys food and wine in moderation. Mostly ignores, and is mostly ignored by magic-users and enchanted beings.

Goals: Unknown.

Modus Operandi: Methodical, observant, and knowledgeable. Capable of improvising tech from available components. Something of a mercenary; will work for cash and/or "Room & Board".

Alliances & Loyalties: None identified.

Anon...

Few people took any real notice of the stranger when he came to town, save for the beggars, cutpurses, and strumpets in the market. Yet, as he passed by the Magister's Empourium, a loud crashing was heard from within, followed by the cursing of the master mage to his apprentices.

"You clumsy fools! My homuculous requires thrice-distilled ichor, not this coagulated swill! Now clean up this mess and fetch me that cockatrice ... and be quick about it!"

If anyone observed the stranger's face as he made his way to the inn, they might have caught the briefest flicker of a smile, which quickly vanished like a mayfly in summer.

He opens the door and steps inside...

By the sunlight streaming through the doorway, Kel could see that the inn seemed deserted, save for the lingering aroma of spiced meats and spilled beer. An uncut round of cheese sat on the counter next to three loaves of cloth-covered bread and a mis-matched collection of freshly-washed wooden steins. Cordwood was stacked next to the fireplace, which had recently been swept out.

The outer walls were mortared fieldstone, while the inner walls and floor were roughcut timber. The underside of the thatched roof was supported by wooden rafters, from which hung an assortment of hooded lanterns, chains, and antique weapons (mostly broken).

From somewhere up the stairs, he heard footsteps and the regular 'swoosh' of a strawbroom. From the back, he heard the clatter of scullery work and the occassional 'thunk' of a chopping block.

"Odd..." he muttered, "Must be too early."

"Sir?"

He turned to see an elfin maiden - a forest elf, judging by the brown hair and eyes, and her tawny complexion. She wore a boy's breeches and jerkin. He removed his hat, and bowed.

"Kel Lantee, at your service, miss. Is the proprietor around?"

"Well, not exactly, sir..."

"I see." He raised an eybrow.

"There was a wedding here last night, so he and most of the townspeople are sleeping it off, so we did not expect anyone..."

"I only need a room, clean water, and ... uh ... just where are the jakes?"

She pointed down the back hallway.

"Out the door and follow the path to your left around the stables. There is an artesian font nearby. Here is a flannel."

"Here's a silver. If you'll see to it that my pack is not disturbed, there will be another when I get back, miss ... uh ... ?"

"Tannintree", she said, pocketting the coin with a smile. "Melinda Tannintree. I'll see to your things. No worries!"

He set his pack behind the counter and proceded down the hall...

Kel stepped from the jakes and made his way quietly to the fountain. Water flowed musically from a bronze standpipe driven into a granite outcropping. He rinsed his hands carefully and dried them on the grass.

Looking around, he noted that the horizon was beginning to fade, and that objects in the middle distance were already becoming indistinct.

"Ahh ... 'Use it or lose it' seems to apply to this pocket universe, too! I wonder..."

He made his way back inside.

"Miss Tannintree?" he called. "Melinda?"

"Right here, sir."

She stood a little over five feet tall, and her brown eyes glistened softly as she shouldered a travelling pack.

"We'd best be going."

"Whereto?"

"Elsewhere ... elsewhen ... stand close, now..."

Kel retrieved his pack from behind the counter and extracted a small box. He lifted the lid and began poking at it.

"What will become of them?" she asked.

"Those that came to be in this pocket universe will fade with it, I suppose. The rest - us included - should get out while we can."

"I'm ready ... look there!"

Kel followed her gaze to the far wall, which even now was shimmering and becoming indistinct.

"It's centered on us. We must be the last to leave. Grab hold!"

Melinda pressed in close to the tall man, feeling the tension of his muscles through the fabric. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and held on.

Kel closed the lid with a loud snap as the universe faded around them and then they were alone, falling for an eternal moment through the interstitial void.

... but there was no one else left to see.