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DarkHorse last won the day on October 30 2019

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  1. When the brightly colored covered wagon entered the small clearing it got a mixed reception. Others that gathered in such an obvious resting place looked on with both excitement and nervous anticipation. Was she the right sort of Gipsy or the wrong sort? Because there was a clear difference between the fun loving tinker wanderers and those that just wanted to swindle and rob. As the wagon swayed and wobbled its way into the semicircle of already assembled wagons it became rather obvious the driver appeared to be the fun sort of Gipsy. She had an abundance of auburn hair tied back by a neat looking green ribbon accentuated by the clashing of colors that adorned her petite figure. A bright blue shirt tucked into the waist of some deep green pants (not the same green as the ribbon in her hair mind you) suited for traveling and wandering. She currently wore no jewelry save a necklace of her grandmothers tears around her neck. Upon her heart shaped face, blue eyes twinkled and a jovial smile twisted up her mouth at the prospect of being around so many people. Folk gathered around the wagon, abandoning their various missions and jobs to get a peek at if she might provide some music or a story. Lillai’s grin grew even larger as she held up a finger asking them all to wait a moment before disappearing through the window behind her driving bench. The small gathering pressed in curiously, waiting to see just what might come of this new camper for the night. Lillai, was not weary from travel, in fact this is exactly where she hoped to be for the night. She’d been alone for almost 5 nights now! 5 whole nights with nothing but the company of her obnoxious cat. Which, if you asked her, she found to be abhorrent company. The Gipsy disappeared into her wagon for a quick change of clothes and to brush out her hair. She didn’t much like being seen in her dusty, dirty traveling clothes by the general public. So as quickly as she disappeared, her seamless re-entry to the general public covered the amount of tripping, cussing and rushing around that happened within the wagon. In her small hands she held an acoustic guitar aloft, typically a universal sign that she was, in fact, the right type of Gipsy. “Care for some music?” She raised an eyebrow, “I also have some food and pots and pans if anyone needs anything.” The slightly accented and light voice broke like a wave across the sands, it brought smiles and the excited squeals of children. Sounds that were relieving to her, not all people welcomed Gypsies. A press for every song imaginable began to flow forth, from “the ogre over hill” to “grannies goat” the requests came. Which brought a laugh and a mischievous smirk from her. “How about I play you all a tune to speed making that dinner fire? After we’ve cooked it and eaten our fill I’ll play you every song you want to hear and more!” Her voice easily carried, “I’ll even tell some bed time stories for the little un’s.” Without further protest, because no one dare infuriate a Gipsy, she began to play a lively little jig to speed along the work in setting up the fire pit, arranging the tripod to hand the pots and pans, and gathering water. Music has a way of warping time itself without having to do anything magical, song after lively song flowed one to the other and soon the work was done. She contributed her own rations to the communal pot, as was customary, some vegetables and a rabbit she snared that very morning. Then settled into begin telling tales and performing slight of hand for the little ones to keep them all occupied while the adults worked to cook, take care of horses or set up meager tents and sleeping arrangement if they didn’t have the luxury of a covered wagon. The brightly colored balls she juggled disappeared quickly when a plate of food was set next to her. There was a collective groan from those around her in protest to the end of fun. “Food first, stories later.” She said with a wink, “Plenty of night left to go!” It was rather good fare for being made on the fly, her rabbit a lovely compliment to the cabbage and carrot stew they brewed in the large cauldron. “I must admit, its been a while since I’ve been able to have a nice group meal like this.” She confessed to the gentleman sitting next to her, a farmer by the looks of him, “Not too many people willing to share anymore these days.” The farm boy blushed at her direct addressing of him and merely managed to not his head while stuttering for words. “Yes’m. I recon it is...” He managed to mumble out, not looking up. “Such a handsome fellow as you shouldn’t mumble so!” She teased, “Tip that chin up and you might actually catch a fair lass when you visit town next.” His eyes snapped up to hers and widened for a moment. “H-how did you -“ She tapped her nose and then shrugged, “A sooth sayer always knows. But Shhhh don’t tell a soul or I’ll never get any sleep tonight.” He nodded and looked back down at his meal, only to find the rest stolen by a stray dog, and as he looked to the Gipsy woman again, she was already sauntering away gathering bowls and crocks to clean. Sometime later as the camp settled in for the night, work finally finished, Lillai retrieved her guitar once again and began to make good on her promises and play every song she knew to the now clapping and dancing people surrounding her.
  2. Riha was quick with the pin removed from her hair, her close proximity to Phoebe helping her immensely. James was helping more than she was aware too - what was once riled up and angered spirits now quelled from the rage that emanated from Phoebe’s poor little form. As strong as she seemed, even she couldn’t drunkenly handle the powers that Riha’d so briefly been in contact with. This was worrisome and that cunning brain swirled into action faster than she could blink, she wasn’t a fighter, but she was smart and cunning. The quieting of the bandwagon spirits made it abundantly clear who was there for Kulbrast and who was there for Phoebe. Their cheer’s once drowned in the booing and hissing of the crowd still rallied, and louder so now that the others looked to bolt. It allowed Riha to take inventory, there were more than she’d expected to find, but it was a boon. They could be her sword and Phoebe’s shield. The one problem was she’d never used spirits in such a way, so how did she gather them and unleash them as a weapon? They were not connected with her in the least, so she couldn’t pull them to her that way....but maybe if.... “If you've got any ideas, this would be a great time.." Phoebe all but gave her permission. The answering pin prick to Phoebe’s wrist was harsh and quick, enough to draw a good few droplets of blood from the woman’s arm. She only needed a little bit, and as soon as her finger scooped up the sticky red substance she could feel the threads of those allies within her own fingertips. “I do have ideas....” Riha answered, “But I’ve never done it before, and it might just kill us both....but its worth a shot right?” Despite the dire circumstances, Riha grinned and shrugged her shoulders, the longer the blood sat on her fingertips the stronger she felt the connection. “Just uh - hold him off for a few minutes yea?” She grit her teeth against what she had to do, “I’ve found us some allies.” Riha’s hand made a swirling motion as she clasped her fingers together, much the way someone would grasp the leash of a pulling dog. The red that stained her fingertips starting to burn her a little. Her eyes deepened in their lavender color, the lightness of them darkening to near black as her face drew taught and her arm flexed even more. She had to demonstrate she was the stronger one, show them she was master and commander, bring them to heel - quickly. While they were allied to Phoebe, they found it difficult to acquiesce to someone else commanding them as to what to do. An extremely chill breeze kicked up in the arena, tossing the air this way and that, its cold a stark contrast to the burning heat that hurtled towards them just moments beforehand. The harder Riha pulled, the colder it got, soon she was lost in a brief battle of wills between herself and a dozen or so spirits that did not want to be told what to do.
  3. “Do you think he would mind if I took a few parts? It's not like he's using them anymore." "I'd think it's probably fine“ This conversion was not happening, right? Right?! They looked between the two men as if they’d lost their damn minds. The shinobi had somehow managed to replace his leg with an arm, had Riha not been sharing a mind, she would have vomited yet again. Her other half kept her from doing so and they held steadfast in that aspect at least. Rage, indignant horrified rage filled them. How could those....those intruders think it ok to do such a thing!? How could their body be returned home honorably if they were missing parts! As if it was some old discarded object used for spares! They would never rest in the halls of their fathers if they were missing a leg, an arm or even worse....their head. To think they’d be carted around on someone’s person for....spares! “Mana i fuck na- raica as tye? -o nút- tye cannot yuht- mime hrondo an spare parts! Mana care- tye osán- ni am? Some sort -o yer- useless piece -o trash? Ni aught ana rip your other telqui au- ar keep i ‘faila -esse case’ ni maure!” Riha’s mouth spoke, but it clearly wasn’t her. They closed their eyes a moment, the words sounded right, but very obviously were wrong....these people didn’t understand their dialect. They were also....friends? How could they both be friendly and harmful all at the same time? It took them a long few moments to clarify just where they stood on this matter. No - the body could not be used in that manner, and no they could not rip off the other leg in a rage as revenge for even thinking it. “No you may not. It violates our laws..... we - no - I have made a deal with him...” They pointed to dead body, “and we have a plan to get us up the mountain. But first, you have to fulfill our end of the bargain and if we do it right, not only will we have a guide, but we might have help getting up the mountains.” It was then that they outlined the problem, relayed to them about the dead mans entrapped comrades and the request to help them, the aqueducts that were not functioning properly up on top of the mountain, the deal that could get them to where they wanted to be.....They even told the comrades about the curse silencing them and how they helped lift it so they could talk. Now all that was left was to wait and see what they others thought of the plan.
  4. Quin’s two toned eyes simply stared back, head slightly tipped on its palmed perch. She didn’t blink, nor break eye contact as she watched, sensed, and even felt the struggle occurring internally. So it wasn’t about taking her stuff - it was so much deeper than that. Though impulsive on a lot of occasions, she could indeed be a very patient woman, and exercised that very skill in that moment. She waited, and waited and waited, and didn’t provide an ounce of help in getting the words out. He resented her for making him say it, and she didn’t care. Some things have to be said to be real. His confession at wanting to rape Pheobe confused more than it enraged. Quin was a victim of unspeakable abuses at the hands of men, rape being one of them. In her times in the brothels, being a test subject and even parading across the world in her exile, rape was just something that happened so often it seemed so normal. Weren’t all men capable of such a thing? Anyone with any degree of physical prowess was capable of the heinous crime. While most didn’t indulge in their baser nature, some did, in the end it was they that made the choice to do so. As Shikai continued to speak, it was very apparent he fell into the former rather than the later category. While she herself would never accept an apology from her abusers.....their choices were made on their free will, Shikai’s was not. Wouldn’t a conversation with Pheobe begin to mend the bridge? He wasn’t in his right mind... none of them were..... It was what he said next that caused her to reel. “I went to see her today... I wanted to apologize. To ask her to tear that part of my mind out, burn it to ash. She... she said I was putting my problems on her..." ”You did what?” Her cold voice cracked against him like a slap, “I tried to murder you - can I ask you to burn my vampirism out of me!?” She filled the space with a predatory rage, one that caused the lightbulb above to flicker and the cabinet doors to creak with the force of her presence. A clawed fingertip came up to rub at her temple and her eye squinted slightly closed. Were all men just so fucking stupid? She actually imagined she might have a migraine- the first in her vampiric career. The baby vamp’s hold on her emotions and reality was tenuous at its best moments, this was the first true test of her hold on that fragile thread....and it came just ever so close to snapping. He wasn’t that kind of person and they both damn well knew it. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, snagging him in her mind thrall and taking control of his head. Her rage and desire to get a very clear message across making it so easy to slip into his consciousness. She dove deep into his mind, pulled every image, fear and memory he had attached to it all and began to warp his very perspective of the room. Suddenly the room wasn’t a room, it shifted back to the jungle, back to that moment before Pheobe forcibly ripped the notions from his mind. She plucked at his power trip, exaggerated his urges, manipulated the scene to show what could have happened had he not tried to fight it. When it ended in bloodshed, the image shifted again. Playing on a deeper fear Quin sensed within him. It wasn’t the jungle, or Phoebe anymore. It was his own room, his own apartment, and Quin’s tortured face. Her very human looking face pleading, begging, screaming and crying for him to stop, please don’t do it again, she will behave, she won’t upset him again......if only he wouldn’t force himself on her again! The thing he feared so very much played out in his head again, and again and again. All while the images were coupled by moments he didn’t, moments that it never even cross his mind. Again the intrusion changed in the gruesome scene playing, Quin’s face changed. It’s color drained, one eye turning red and claws elongated from her fingertips. Suddenly she was the one in control, she was the one exacting revenge. Every possible way she could have killed him, knew how to kill him, it played like a horror movie without pause. All starting with crushing his skull, with one hand, beyond repair so he couldn’t recover. She knew she was terrorizing his mind, that this was a brutal way to teach a lesson - and yet it was the best she knew how to. If she could simply show him that was was not that person, show him that everyone has a darker nature....perhaps he’d realize it was his to control and no one else’s. Or - she’d gambled very wrong and he’d want nothing to do with her afterwards. Either way - painful lessons cannot be learned in gentile ways. Once the last lingering image faded, the kitchen came back into clear focus, Quin retreated from his head looking drawn as if she was actually exhausted. She was, she’d never exercised that amount of vampiric power over another before. She hated herself for harming him so very much to teach him something he needed to grasp, having to witness the same extremely disturbing images herself and share in his terror. “We all have a monster deep inside. You can’t ask someone else to take away that which is in your power to control.” The Vampire’s voice was firm.
  5. “Normally I would buy you a drink, but it seems like you have had one of mine." Lady Cadeyrn’s smile was so charming and innocently care free that it made it difficult to blame her. She turned for a half a second to grab the second mug slid her way to give to him as a means of repaying. The whitty reply about her getting him a drink died when she found he’d been swept away as quickly as he appeared. She frowned, that was no way to treat a beautiful lady that wanted to buy him a drink. It was like he didn’t want it or something! With his mysterious disappearance, a much more familiar and comforting presence made itself known. Someone she’d missed dearly in her time gone, and likely the culprit of the disappearing chunk of man. Her suspicions were confirmed when that infuriatingly mischievous smile appeared, dangling nearly upside down in a dip, hair cascading down towards the floor. He must have been one of the new Skeletons that were always coming onboard, he didn’t the carry the look of a lost and bedazzled bystander. A look Cadeyrn knew well as she’d seen more than one of them be used as a cover or dance partner. Skeletons had a slightly cocky look about them that didn’t quite match the look of a random tavern local. “Long time, nice accessory - ex?" Those wonderfully teasing notes more welcome than they used to be when she was feeling rather irritated. After her imprisonment and nightmarish time of being treated like some kind of criminal it was a welcome change to have something so seemingly normal. No exclamations over her being gone, no concern for her well being. Just a simple sarcastic remark. She preferred it that way, the Lady didn’t want any simpering over her. Cadeyrn’s still gauntleted hand patted at the head hanging from her belt. It was a trophy and Pheobe knew it. The warrior chose not to answer and instead lifted her mug with a smirk and took a deep drink. Choosing instead to allow the antics to unfold for a few more delicious moments, it was erasing her rather grumpy mood from being jumped at the city outskirts. “You remember me, right? It wasn't that long ago," The imp uprighted herself. If Phoebe’s dalliances or one night toys couldn’t remember her, then she was losing her touch. It wasn’t for her to comment on though, she hadn’t had anything beyond a fist to the face in the better part of a year. Phoebe turned away and whispered something else to her accessory. Poor boy was caught in crosshairs he didn’t even know he walked into. She reached back for the next mug that passed her away, her third now and she showed no sign of being intoxicated in the least, she was that thirsty. Her next mission would be to find some food. She was dangerously hangry and.....that gleam in Pheobe’s eyes set the blood and gore caked hairs on the Lady’s arms to raising. She knew that look, knew it well. Pheobe planned on poking the bear or causing some kind of mischief. Likely punishment for being gone for so long. “Hey, Cade! What's going on-- you're looking rough." Volley fired. The amicable look on Cadeyrn’s face quickly turned to stone, the edges around her eyes hardening and glare forming. She looked downright stormy, the depths of her eyes reflecting exactly just how she would exact her revenge for the insult to her person. The warrior bristled and seemed to grow just a few more inches tall in her presence, hand gripping the handle of her mug much the way it would the handle of the lovely and large sword strung across her back. Sensing her growing prickliness, patrons around her inched and slithered away rather quickly, choosing a less lethal feeling position around the bar instead of near the once radiant presence despite her gore. For a second she contemplated greeting Pheobe’s face with the mug before deciding the feedback wasn’t worth it - this time. Cadeyrn thought she looked damn good for having been stuck in fight club prison camp, bushwhacking for the better part of a week and being jumped at the city outskirts. Maybe she didn’t want to share her delicious little secret and discovery with the rest of the dead....but she needed them to get the place. Such a fucking dilemma. “Jealous?” She shot back, removing the head from her belt with her free hand and holding it out, “He’s not much of a looker - but if you want my left overs, have at it.” The open eyed, slack jawed orc dangled out in front of her for a second, it was missing a tusky tooth. If anyone cared to look close enough, the missing cuspid was embedded into the thick part of Cadeyrn’s bracer, buried deep enough to need pliers to dislodge it. The blood was no longer dripping freely from the severed trophy, instead it occasionally fell to the floor in a overly large chunk. Someone on the other side of the bar could be heard vomiting from looking at the offending image. “No? Shame.” Cadeyrn sighed, re attaching it to her belt “This is all that’s left of the bastards that jumped me earlier today. There were 6 of them, Orcs that is. And here I am, having crossed to hell and back to bring you such a juicy and delicious gift all out of the goodness of my golden heart....and you have to go an insult me. I think I look damn good for having gone through what I did to bring this to you.” The warrior shrugged and leaned back on the bar elbows and forearms resting on the surface in a nonchalant way, someone’s abandoned and untouched food instantly became hers. Replaced by no small amount of coin to replace what she took so the previous food’s consumer could at least have his dinner and then some to cover the offense of it being stolen. The hunk of pork knuckle dripped grease as she bit into it with as much gusto as a starved dog. “Maybe I wont share after all.” She pointed what remained of the knuckle at Phoebe, “But if you apologize, I might change my mind and forgive you.....Don’t forget to include what a beautiful and wonderful person I am while you do it too.” She grabbed another massive pork knuckle and began to eat in a very un Lady Cadeyrn like way. She was too damn hungry to care about looking the proper lady at the moment and no one in the bar that gave a damn anyway.
  6. The gentile plucking of the shamisen didn’t shift or change, instead it wafted through the air as a gentile backdrop to those that were conversing amongst themselves. To any paying enough attention to it - it was as lovely a song as they’d ever heard. The coin that was flicked at her sailed up and through the air, the heat signature on it catching Kiko’s attention. Her eyes didn’t shift, nor did she move as she noticed the offending bit flipping through the air. Her silence met the request for “something lively” as the geisha did her best to get her anger over the slight under control. The only indication that she’d heard him was a small smile and a slight shift in the tempo to that which she was playing. Effectively and masterfully transitioning the song from something slower to something more ‘lively’ as he put it. By the time the music transitioned the coin hit the floor with a dull clanking sound. It’s very presence standing out in its singularity, the only coin on the floor, flicked at a blind woman playing the shamisen. Though inanimate in nature, it represented just everything that was so very wrong with the situation. The very idea that a coin was flicked at her like she was some kind of common tavern bard.....did he think she was underpaid or something? “While your generosity is noted.” Her voice drifted so lightly it could only be heard by he, “It is not traditionally how my talents are respected.” The music never slowed, instead it ebbed and flowed around her voice as she spoke. It was really quite something, to be pulled in to conversation with the woman as she worked. She spun silken words, pulling the listener into a temporary and fleeting world that only he existed within. After all it wasn’t often she had to educate others around protocols surrounding herself. “Though flicking a coin at a blind woman may not be the best way to demonstrate that.” Her voice held a mischievous teasing tone. What was typically a quiet conversation in a private room, had to be delivered in a succinct way. The slip of a bank note, a new silk Kimono, hair combs or even lodgings were typical fare for her. Kiko had many patrons and rarely lacked for anything. She could have settled in just about any city and lived comfortably on her talents and patron’s generosity. But she had the wandering soul of a gipsy and couldn’t stay in one place long enough to enjoy it too much. “You will just have to make it up to me now, yes?” The playfulness reflected the same liveliness in her music, “Perhaps a story instead?” Kimiko had a nose for a good story, call it a hunch, or call it adaptive sight. The second being the more accurate of the two options. Regardless, she detected the potential for some wonderful new material, and her nose picked up a hint of.....well a bath couldn’t quite erase just exactly what that smell was. But it was certainly reminiscent of a dog that rolled in a mud puddle and then rinsed off in the lake. The soft pale blue eyes stared forward as the tune shifted once again, transitioning from one into another seamlessly. “If you share two - I might just even dance for you.” Her tone was low, soft and held a hint of - just something that couldn’t be placed. @danzilla3
  7. Quin waited with the patient stillness of a vampire. Unblinking, unmoving, statue still, the only evidence she was listening - her strange eyes looking back at him. She was....confused to say the least. The glen did many things, this she knew well from her time at the Chateau, its own labyrinth caused a similar effect in anyone that entered it. It took the deepest and darkest pieces of a person, the things people feared they might have hidden somewhere, and brought them to light as if they were real. So why was what happened in the glen any different? And if he simply wanted to take stuff from Phoebe, why was he acting so shameful. Even toddlers didn’t react with that much shame when they stole a toy or tried to take what wasn’t theirs. It was in what Shikai wasn’t saying that the answer lie. And there was a lot he wasn’t saying. Quin intentionally shut off the mind link for just the briefest of moments, fighting that urge to simply delve in and dig for what she sought. But that seemed just so rude! She hated that when she was a human, no secrets, nothing that was simply her own. So she chose not to pry....for now. If he continued to hide everything from her.... well then she would most certainly dig through the cracks and crevices of his mind to find just what was going on. What was the nature of his relationship with Pheobe? The vampire’s eyes narrowed only slightly in her suspicions and troubled musings. Was she something much more to him than he was telling her!? Was he in love with her too?! “I guess I don’t understand.” Came the intentionally obtuse answer, “If you were trying to take her shit why do you feel so bad about it? It’s not like you actually did even if you wanted to.” She shrugged and drummed her nails on the table, chin resting on her other upturned hand. Though his tears bothered her somewhat, she wasn’t one to quickly comfort when she didn’t think it would help. No use softening a blow that needed to come or gentling a lesson best served cold. “I mean....the glen brings out the worst in us, the pieces that we think are within us.....if the worst you’ve got is wanting to take her stuff....” Her voice trailed off thoughtfully, “why do you feel so bad about it?”
  8. "I'm back and I have a job! Meet me at the 'monopole' in Mageside. - Sunny" The Monopole - a two story tavern set back in an alleyway with another two story tavern tucked in directly across from it. The cobble stones set into the ground were uneven, water pooled in the gaps between them and around a grate that didn’t do a proper job. A single dingy door sat next to the pictures windows that were too grimy to see through, and before it a rather lazy looking bouncer that gave an obligatory look over anyone that wished to enter. The interior was dim, with a staircase at the back of the tavern leading upstairs where a gentleman’s club used to exist. The old poles, stage and bars interspersed between pool tables and band equipment for whatever sub par, and likely only sounding great when drunk, band. The old wood floors, uniform through the entire building, reflected decades of fatigue, spilled beer and heels clicking across it. The place smelled of beer, sweat and stale wings, the three things it traded in most. Folks of all kinds gathered here, standing around random tables chatting, playing dice games or simply drinking beer in wooden tankards that were as old as the establishment itself. Dominating the back of the building, just to the left of the stairs thrown into the space as an after thought. The crowning glory of the tavern was pristinely kept, dark and gleaming wood with an expansive liquor display that spread from floor to ceiling behind it. Mirrors reflected back both the bottles and patrons face, a window to nowhere other than what lay behind the person looking in. It was here that “Sunny” summoned her companions to, the space perfect for the unassuming to gather. It also happened to be closest to where she popped back into the realm, plummeting roughly 6 feet from the sky into a tree and then greeting each branch on her way to the ground. Forcibly ejected from her prison, Lady Cadeyrn won her freedom, and as soon as she confirmed her gauntleted hand still grasped the challenge coin she stole - she sent out her message to the Dead. She wanted that pocket dimension she spent the last year in, in fact - she felt entitled to it. After all, she beat the impossible game, won when odds were against her and the rules constantly changed. Of course she won, she was Lady Dadeyrn Drest! And she set her sights on that dimension....the only problem? It had an orc infestation and a prison camp filled with people she had a mind to free. She was late to the tavern, even by her own standards, she hated to keep people waiting. Especially since it was so unladylike to do so, downright impolite considering she’d been the one to invite them. But what else was she supposed to do?! The last village she passed wouldn’t give her their only horse! Even for an extremely hefty sum that would have bought them way more than that one lame mare she asked for. To make matters worse, the Lady was jumped just before entering the city, the Orc’s materializing out of nowhere - likely drawn by the coin she carried. They had the audacity to try and take it back and bring her back with them! All of this left the lady rather - ornery - so as she glared down the bouncer and slammed open the establishment’s only door with a loud BANG! She stepped through its dingy gateway and in one smooth movement, took the half lifted mug from the nearest local and downed it, throat working as she chugged it down in her thirst. She didn’t care whose it had been or if he’d already drank from it - the mug was no cleaner than any behind the bar. She lowered the mug and wiped her mouth with the back of a bloodied hand, smearing whatever gore remained on her cheek in the process. Lady Cadeyrn was what she considered the epitome of the female specimen, even gore soaked, sweaty and dirty as she was. In fact, she’d completely forgotten she tied one of the orcs heads to her belt by its hair, and there it dangled, dripping blood onto the floor as she’d killed it a very short time ago. Her armor was dented and in rough shape, weapons still hung from their positions at her sides, large great-sword strung across her back so the hilt peeked up over her head. The mug in her hand slammed down onto the table she stole it from and continued across the room towards the bar. Her booted feet clanked as she walked, head held tall and spine straight, left arm curled slightly as her helmet rested in the crook of her elbow. She smiled in such a charming way it was hard for the blood splatter against her cheek and forehead to scare away anyone. “Orcs - am I right?” She laughed boisterously, as if the simple statement explained EVERYTHING. As she reached the bar she set her helmet down atop the counter and leaned on it haughtily, “Oy! Beer over here! In fact just keep the mug full - I’m thirsty!” A mug appeared before she could finish her question and she drank down what tasted like watered down piss in one gulp, simply holding out the mug to be refilled and expecting it done right then and there - and it was. Diligence was always rewarded by her and the barkeep was given hefty thanks and the promise of a very large tip later - which if he increased the quality of his piss water would increase. Lady Cadeyrn leaned back against the counter top with a groan and surveyed her new domain while continuing to thirstily drink from the dirty mug. From her perch she’d wait for her dead friends to join her for a little chat about what she found. @Noko @Greenmntman
  9. Dr. Nash listened closely, rage fleeing as fast as it came on. No longer contained, she didn’t feel trapped, which meant she didn’t want to fight her way out. As the woman spoke, Quin used her vampiric glamour to shift her appearance until it was much more like the Dr. Nash the woman spoke to, instead of a muck and gore soaked vampire. Pristine white lab coat and military khaki’s replaced torn and dirtied clothing, braided hair and clean skin replaced what was mostly brown and red. Knowing she looked much less the monster and far more the expert they sought, she paced. She was still listening of course, but Dr. Nash never really stood still for very long as she thought. Her eyes surveyed the damaged of the one that should be dead while she listened to the other. She circled him in an uncomfortably close way, mind simultaneously studying the damage and soaking in what the woman was saying at the same time. As the woman stopped speaking, Quin stopped moving, eyes looking at the one she wasn’t really quite sure she trusted or liked fully. After all, did she not just huck her at some banshees and then hold her prisoner? The silence stretched on and on as Quin thought. Her head moved back and forth between the two humans as they spoke. First the woman, then the one she failed to kill. He was saying the same thing just....gentler. Then the woman again, apologizing for her general’s behavior. Too much talking, too much confusion, not enough time to think.... Sate of the art laboratory would be nice, she could have access to other things that she didn’t have at her current one such as that fancy schmancy machine.....then again....she couldn’t return to that one anyway....but why? Why couldn’t she remember the reasons she couldn’t go back? Her sire was probably worried about her, even he would notice her missing for this long of a time....if not him then Martis.... The vampire’s gaze grew distant for a moment, eye’s wide and limbs frozen. She couldn’t go back because she’d killed him...... Blood splattered and dripping from the ceiling, a white and clawed arm dangled from her battered fingertips. Further away another arm was strewn across the kitchen island, it weeped blood onto the floor with a soft drip....drip...drip..... behind the island peeked out a foot - but it was attached to nothing. It’s leg dangled from the broken glass of a shattered window. What remained of the chest cavity - torn open with bones snapped and sticking out like jagged knives - a pool of entrails, blood and swallowed teeth. A few feet from that what remained of her Sire’s face - the once beautiful and soft red hair sticky and matted together, red eyes blank and unseeing. In Quin’s her hand, a shriveled and toxic looking organ still beat within her clutch - the hand squeezes the heart and .....Martis’s face. Angelic and horrified, reflecting the shattered image of what she once was to him. He was blood splattered too - and more injured than she.... she took a step forward, he took one back. Rejection sank into her bones....first Ira, then her sire...and even Martis........ Quin’s head reeled, that gruesome tape playing once again....and at the wrong time. The glamour she’d conjured so easily fell away as her damaged hands grabbed at her matted hair and she let out a shrill scream that sent a percussion wave shooting out from her. Pheobe gained the audience of Quin’s stable mind for but a few seconds before it was lost again in the depth of her sorrow and grief. She didn’t want to remember, she didn’t want it to play, she didn’t want to lose control again! All those refugees....destroyed.... Still seeing both the scene in her mind and the forest about her, she fumbled in her pockets for what she knew would keep her from destroying them all. But it wasn’t there - the syringe that she kept - intended to paralyze her out in an open field so the sun could fry her - was gone. She let out a whimper of internal chaos and pain, lost within the reaches of her mind and yet struggling so hard to stay present - to not go away again. “I have to go....I can’t go back...” she was now rocking and talking to herself, “We can’t stay here either....” Just fry yourself in the sun and be done with it all. The voice was back. “No....no I don’t want that....” She didn’t sound convinced, “I can’t anymore....I lost the syringe....” Then find another way you miserable wretch. You will never be free of this. ”I don’t want to remember! Stop making me remember!” She was now reduced to shouting at herself, “go away! Get out of my head!” A less potent hiss of pain followed by yet another pained whimper escaped the raving vampire, completely uncaring that she had witnesses this time. Her eyes darted around looking for the syringe, she was so close....so close to loosing control.....she didn’t want to.... There! A glittering caught her overly sharp and slightly blood drunk vision. Quicker that when she attacked Shikai, she’d managed to get to the syringe, scoop it up and pull the cap off with her teeth. The unnecessarily thick needle somehow still pristinely clean needle glimmered for the briefest of seconds before disappearing into the flesh of the doctors lovely - and horribly scarred neck. “Agreed. Just get me the fuck out of here.” She growled, pushing down the plunger - hard, managing to shatter the glass vile in her hand, but not before delivering most of the black substance into her system. Knowing full well the main side effect of the ‘goodnight kiss’ was memory loss of the last 48 hours, she banked on it being her only chance at sanity. An oddly peaceful smile graced her face as she crumpled to the ground like 200lbs of dead vampire.
  10. Quin went willingly enough along as they pursued the rest of the house, specifically the basement. She too shared the surprise that it was actually more than just a dingy under layer to what lay above them. The look in Shikai’s eyes said he was pleased as a peach to see the size of the basement surrounding them. The vampire took a far more critical eye though, pacing through the space and looking around with Dr. Nash’s eyes rather than Quin’s. She was picky about her space, choosing to work in only the most pristine of conditions - especially since most of what she worked with was so....volatile, dangerous and down right lethal to society. It was for their own good of course, but humans couldn’t see beyond the mortal coil that bound them. So they didn’t share her enthusiasm on how vampirism could cure just about any disease. “It needs work.” She finally said, voice echoing - something she hated. Eyes of red and silver didn’t miss the mold growing in a particularly damp corner, the dampness’ source rather unknown. But it meant water was coming in somewhere. In her head she tallied the cost of such an expensive endeavor. Though Shikai made it seem like it was nothing to simply have his....zombie servants....fix things, would they fix it just right? Still, she was loath to crush Shikai’s enthusiasm, so she didn’t voice every critical thought in her head. She was difficult to please in this aspect anyway - Phoebe and her staff nearly smashing their heads against the wall at her pickiness at how they set up her work laboratory. The massive structure was a fortress, each component carefully designed and placed just as she wanted it. For good reason too - couldn’t have one of her Kinder escape and get into the medicinal lab - now THAT would be a disaster roughly the size of a nuclear reactor melt down. She wouldn’t be bringing those sorts of chemicals into her house anyway. “I’m sure with some...uh...elbow grease - it would shape up just nicely.” She added to soften her earlier statement, “It would certainly make a home for sure....once we gut it, re-build it and furnish it.”
  11. Lady Cadeyrn Drest (Kay-dren) Nickname: Sunny Race: Human Marital Status: Single Gender: Female Age: 34 Occupation: Mercenary Physical Voice: Alto with haughty tonal inflections Eyes: Like a mood ring Blue eyes: its a good day Green: Beware - she’s cranky! Any combination between the two: guess and approach at your own risk Complexion: While her skin is quite smooth and very well taken care of, she has a darker set complexion from the amount of time she spends in the sun and outside. Height: 5’11” Weight: 165lbs Build: Muscular / athletic Hair: Auburn Defining Features: Always appeared impeccably groomed despite the level or gore she may carry on her person at any given time. The beginnings of slivering hair spattered across her head. Mental Status: Nature: Haughty, entitled, arrogant, kind, self-serving, strong willed, outgoing, gregarious, silver tongued, VAIN, mischievous Hopes: Have a female heir to pass on her and her mother’s legacy of mercenary work ‘Retire’ as rich as possible Find a worthy ‘donor’ to continue her legacy Fears: That men really are as dumb as they all look Losing any amount of her acquired wealth Likes: Gifts Flowers Compliments (a lot of them) Dislikes: When people do not notice or comment on how pretty she is Not getting her way Gear: Weapons: Primary weapon: Two handed claymore Secondary weapon: Xiphos, Dress dagger Tertiary weapon: Long bow Armor: A hybrid of modern ballistics material formed into the style of full plate armor. The armor is light and extremely tough, while giving ‘Sunny’ the galavanting look she wants A shield Helmet Abilities: Magical: Basic control over fire and fire type spells Mastery control over earth elemental magic Family Mother: Lady Tomryis Drest, Age 52 {alive} A warrior in her own right, Lady Tomryis Drest was the first born to a family that gained its wealth and title through ‘trade.’ From a young age she was expected to contribute to her families wealth by participating in raids, guarding her father’s caravans and keeping track of his coin. She given whatever she desired, whenever she desired it. The Lady inherited her families legacy through a traditional handing down of responsibility. At the age of 18, Lady Tomryis found herself in the ‘motherly way’ following a string of flings she had on her adventuring. Though unexpected, she saw this as an opportunity to continue passing along her legacy to the next generation. The Lady found herself even more pleased when she had a daughter to teach all she knew. Tomryis dedicated all of her time during her daughter’s early years spoiling her. She cloistered the two of them away in one of her many large holdings and educated the ‘little genius’ until she was old enough to hold a sword and begin mercenary work. The Lady brought Cadeyrn on all of her paid mercenary work jobs, effectively teaching her all she knew. The two still share an extremely close mother and daughter bond. Lady Tomryis can be found frequently badgering Cadeyrn about when she will have a daughter to take the female Drest legacy. Father: ???? Cadeyrn’s father was one of many lovers Lady Tomryis enjoyed. Neither Cadeyrn or her mother cared enough to discover his name, whereabouts or lineage. Siblings: Lady Tomryis had no other children, she had 8 other siblings to carry on the Drest name for her father, and saw her duty done when she had Cadeyrn. The Back Story: Childhood: Cadeyrn’s childhood was spent in her mothers largest and most comfortable manor. She was given every toy and opportunity she could ever want or even dream of. Her mother, Lady Tomryis, dedicated much of her waking moments to playing or educating Cadeyrn whenever the child so wished. Due to the large nature of her family, the little girl had no lack of playmates or friends. With cousins multiplying by the year, her close knit family extended far beyond just she and her mother. Brighter and more beautiful than her other cousins, Cadeyrn was given the nickname of ‘Sunny’ by her grandmother. Adolescence As soon as she was old enough to know which way to point a dagger blade, Cadeyrn’s life shifted much the way it did for anyone in her family that reached the age of 11. Considered old enough to learn to use a meat dagger, it meant she was old enough to learn how to hold a sword. Much to her family’s disapproval, Lady Tomryis tutored Cadeyrn herself in fighting. She rejected family tradition that the oldest patriarch teach the next generation to fight. Cadeyrn went on more jobs than her other cousins (and aunts / uncles around her age) due to her mother’s confidence that she would learn better in the middle of a fight than in a yard swinging a stick. By the time she was 15 ‘Sunny’ earned more money independently than her cousins combined and was granted her first family holding. After leading several of her own missions (accompanied by her mother of course), she was granted the honorific title of ‘Lady’ within her family to signify that she earned the right to inherit her mother’s lands when the right time came. Adulthood Sunny was slower to strike out on her own given her close nature to her mother. Battle companions since she was 12, she found she preferred working with her mother than anyone else as she trusted her explicitly. When Lady Tomryis was handed down the remaining family holdings, she was forced to turn her attention less on taking jobs and more on managing the massive family and its lands. In searching for lucrative jobs, Sunny’s skill set caught the attention of an organization known as The Dead. She was offered access to better jobs, more pay and the opportunity to continue carving her way across the continent. On a particularly altruistic job, in which she was clearing unmentionables out of some mining caves, she experienced a cave in and all but vanished. If not for her contract, most would assume her long deceased, when long disappearances were quite normal for her. Currently Cadeyrn has recently freed herself from imprisonment in an orc camp and she brings with her some extremely interesting loot, and it is not in the form of gold.....
  12. Aiden gained a temporary backpack, while she likely weighed no more than his metal armor and weapon when fully equip, she perched there. Arms wrapped like a vice about his neck and thighs clasping round his waist in a grip that wasn’t about to let go. Unfortunately, being of a taller height and having to work them out of the ..... sticky situation they were found in, she looked worse for the wear. Pale and shaken, covered head to toe in sticky webs and a little tail remained where the initial spider stuck her with its web. She knew she looked insane, tugging on the brute’s ears to direct him where to go, but it paid off when they reached what lay on the other end. The humanoid they came upon shared the fate Riha might have met had Aiden not acted quickly. In a rare show of affection, she patted his head with no little amount of gratitude, seeing for a moment her own face staring blankly at the sky thus. Most would try and examine the body, study it for clues to discover just what happened, Riha decided she’d simply talk to him and find out what happened. So she scrambled down from her ‘safe’ perch, finally relinquishing that white knuckled grip around Aiden’s neck and waist. She crouched down over the body and gently touched his forehead with a forefinger. A little flash of light freed the soul from the body and she stood as it rose to standing, choosing to take the loose form of the body it just lost. Common for they newly departed to do since they were still so attached to their physical forms. To those around her, it simply looked like she was poking at the dead spider snack. As she stood with the spirit, it became abundantly clear she was talking to something, but what that something was.... well it could very well be something only she saw, or more chillingly she could actually talk to the dead. She stood there for long moments, simply making facial expressions as if she were speaking without her mouth moving. Riha’s hand reached forward as if she were shaking hands, it clasped around something very real and very invisible. The second she made contact, the woman’s head snapped backwards and she let out a silent scream as she fought to curl inwards on herself. When she explained it was unpleasant, she didn’t mention it was physically painful to make room for the living to host two souls. His memories became hers, his life, his death, those who loved him and those whose he loved. But just as much as she examined his life, he could hers. It wasn’t easy being two people in one vessel. Clashing personalities, thoughts, wants and needs. Riha had to hold on to hers and protect the integrity of his. Once the struggle was over, she shakily wiped away the sweat the beaded on her brow and took a deep breath in, then she began to sing. At first it was silent, then its sound reached the ears of her companions. The muffled nature of their party removed like noise dampening earphones ripped away from their heads and the double vocal sound of her song wove around them. The words came out foreign, sounds Riha’s tongue wouldn’t even be able to form without having grown up with the language. Yet it still flowed from her mouth, in her lovely gravely voice. It countered the webs and threads they were tangled with and snapped marionette strings that were beginning to attach. “Mín were walking into a nú, im found ammen a guide na get or- i orod plual ered.” The sound actually reached her companions ears. They paused, Riha and the spirit, what she said didn’t sound right. They searched for the correct words, the correct language, it was buried deep within their memories. “We were walking into a trap, I found us a guide to get up the mountain.” They said together, that sounded better.
  13. Quin held her silence as she walked him home, shame did not become him and she disliked it when people apologized for being in a bad space. She knew what it was like to wrap her brokenness around her like a cloak and hide behind its shame. Shikai should know better than to hide it from her, she could sense it, dig deep into his psyche and know he was withholding from her. It should have hurt her to know he didn’t trust her enough to share even the darkest of things, but it didn’t, because she knew what that was like. The only difference was, Shikai met her at her most broken, there was nothing more for her to hide. He knew just how deep and depraved she could get, and though little surprises might take him aback, it couldn’t possibly be any worse than the reality of living with a creature that could snap at any moment and destroy everything they ever built. She opened the door gently, her movements were graceful and smooth, they didn’t speak of annoyance or anger. Simply patience and a calm, steady, soothing presence. He was already drunk and shamed, he reminded her very much a a stray mutt she came across once. It had just gotten caught stealing food from a garbage can and was beat by the restaurant owner..... It came skittering out of that alleyway tail between his legs, belly growling and ears pinned back. All it needed was a little food and a pat to the head to be alright again. Quin assisted Shikai into the kitchen where she indicated he sit, it was a simple finger point, but a silent command none the less. She turned and pulled out of the oven a plate of dinner she managed to cook and attempted to keep warm, and then slid it across the table to him with a fork and a smile. “You don’t wear shame well.” She said at long last, turning to pull a cup out of the cupboard. She began to pull a bunch of raw spices and herbs down from a line she’d hung them on in front of the window to dry. Mint, a black root, and ginger all went into a bowl that she began to grind up with precision and accuracy. It was a concoction she’d made thousands of times, something to help with the spinning and soak up the excess undirected alcohol....whatever he hadn’t already slept off that is. Once those were ground up, she went to the refrigeration, something that still fascinated her, and pulled out two unlabeled jars, both containing something white in them. She held each one up the the light and squinted at them each, going so far as to swirl one, yet it still confused her. The consequences of not properly labeling her experiments she supposed. One - was highly acidic concoction for her little flesh eating plant - it nurtured the roots. The other - milk of magnesia. One was completely harmless, the other....Shikai would be spewing blood for months if he drank it. She dipped her pinky into one and tapped it to her tongue quickly - the tang of blood and battery acid ate an immediate path across the surface that her vampiric healing fixed quickly enough. “Not that one then.” She said to herself, setting it aside and testing the other to make sure that wasn’t plant food too. It wasn’t, so she poured it into a glass and added the herbs, stirring it quickly without clanking the spoon too much in case Shikai’s head hurt. She pulled one more ingredient out, just a little bit of a specific type of moss she knew helped with easing headaches. It turned the whole thing an unpleasant shade of pea green. Concoction finished, she walked over to Shikai and set it down next to his plate. “Now.” She sat down so it didn’t seem like she was looming over him, “Let’s talk about this thing you’ve been hiding from me.”
  14. Quin sat staring at the little green shoot starting to grow out of the pot on the kitchen table. The little seed providing no more answers than she’d voiced aloud. Shikai was late, he was supposed to be home hours ago. She’d sensed a growing kernel of upset within him, it caused him to withdraw a little more and a little more until..... he was late. What could be so terrible that he felt he had to keep a secret from her? The vampires fingernails drummed against the table top in an impatient way, her mind assuming all sorts of worst case scenarios. He’d changed his mind about her, he’d been killed, he was sent on an unexpected mission and didn’t bother to tell her about it. All unlikely, considering she’d know. The link she forged with him through repeated consumption of his blood from the source and dabbling with his mind while he slept allowed her almost every corner of his mind. Except one. Except right now. His mind shuttered off to her the moment he woke up several days ago and remained mostly closed. Out of simple respect to him she left it well alone, but now that he wasn’t home on time....well it was her business now. An obnoxious song began blaring from the small black doom box on the table, it vibrated its way towards her. The unexpected sound caused the vampire to leap backwards out of the chair and half way across the kitchen before realizing what it was. The culprit? Something Shikai called a phone - a stupid thing really - but he said she should have one. The vampire managed to turn it on without crushing it this time but poking the little green image with her pinky finger. “H-hello?” She shouted at it. The sounds of a loud bar clouded the voice shouting over it, “I got you buddy here! He’s passed out on the bar!” “What?” Quin felt like someone was playing some kind of prank on her. “Look lady. I got your boyfriend -“ ”If its money you want-” She was instantly angry. ”He’s passed out on the bar!” He shouted over her shouting over him, “Come and get him or we have to throw him out!” Oh, a different sort of concern washed over her, why was he drunkenly passed out at a bar? “Which bar is this?” She asked, dead pan. “Talon and nail.” “I’ll be right there.” She sighed. The person on the other side hung up first, which was a relief to Quin since she never got this far into a conversation with the magic box to know how to end a call. Dressed as she usually did, dark clothing to accentuate her pale nature, she managed to cast the illusion on herself that she looked mostly human. A vampire walking into a bar wasn’t always warmly received. Especially considering her kind were largely misunderstood and rarely found in areas outside their coven or cities. She slipped from the apartment and didn’t bother slowing herself down as she reached the bar in less time than it took to make the phone call. The woman drifted into the bar like smoke drifted across the cold night sky. Her beautiful and sanguine presence went largely unnoticed, the way she intended it, as she picked her way from the main door to the bar where the slumped figure of Shikai loomed. The bar tender took notice of her approach and gave a single curt nod in her direction to acknowledge her presence, she merely nodded back and at the very least tried to look thankful for this human’s consideration in calling her first. “I’ll take it from here.” She refrained from smiling lest she cause a riot from the shape of her teeth, “Thank you.” Oh so carefully her hand came down on Shikai’s shoulder and gave a gentile shake, she didn’t want to startle him too much. “Hey - “ her voice carried over the noise of the bar, “Hey! We gotta go home! Come on Shikai - rise and shine!”
  15. "I think we'll let our servants clean out that room," he grinned, "Upstairs we go!" Quin took his hand and allowed him to lead her out of the room a little dumbstruck. They had servants!? Only rich people had those, and she was not one of those high class rich people. So how did they end up with servants? Was he one of those secret princely type people that came and scooped up some poor Cinderella story? Not likely if he was talking to nets. “Servants?” She sounded so confused, “What servants?!” Her question followed their cautious trek up the stairs and down the long hallway, the long and tattered carpet kicking up dust as they stepped on it. Though the rug’s resplendent colors were long lost, the wood hadn’t lost its value in the least. Door after door led them to what was supposed to be the master bedroom. It’s bed and furniture still standing as sentinels to the lonely past that lived there. The room had far too many windows for her taste, and she had a hard time envisioning it with so much light. Peeking into his thoughts told her he was already thinking ahead for her in that aspect. “The windows have to go.” She voiced it aloud, “Though it will certainly do.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him vampires didn’t rarely needed to sleep so the room hardly mattered. But a den to retreat to when she was injured or feeling scared might be nice. Having a room to call her own seemed to strange, especially when she’d never had one that was hers. “Can we paint it?” She asked cautiously, “and....and I think I’d like it to have a nice warm feeling to it....like a....” Tomb? No those didn’t have a warm feeling to it at all. She could made a den in the basement somewhere that she could hide from the sun in if need be. “Like a bedroom I suppose.” She finished rather lamely, “It is certainly a lot of house for just the two of us.” The comment was innocent enough, but long hallway extending left and right from the stairs brought into stark reality just how empty her life had been for so long. It’s not like their experiments could live there. “Would we be able to have....” Her brow furrowed, “Guests? And host parties?” Wasn’t that what rich people did also?
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