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Fallen Joy

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Fallen Joy last won the day on May 20 2014

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  • Birthday 05/31/1990

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  1. Natasha listened to Alexandria, sensing her urgency. As she suddenly took off, Natasha paused for a moment to think. Or at least she tried too. Two moments after Syvos dived from her edge, Natasha saw a blur of hazel rush pass her peripheral. AUUUGH “Son of a—DURZOL!” Natasha ran after the racing dragon, barely grabbing a plate in his armor and pulling herself on the saddle seconds before the dragon bird dived down the cliff side. He folded his amber wings, ignoring Natasha's chastising curses, and caught up to the crimson beauty. Synchronously they spread their wings and curved up towards the skies. In swirls of ruby and gold, the dragons churned in the gusts of winds like autumn leaves in the zephyr. Alexandria yelled in exhilaration and Natasha couldn’t help herself, her ash face breaking into a tusked grin and crying out like a wild animal in the skies with her steed. They rode over the palisades of rock, and eventually their shadows cascaded over canopies of green. Alas their hours of search were fruitless, it took them to the far northeast, over the Haunted Glen and now near the Forgotten Wood. The scarlet skies were darkening into the dusk of night, navy shade expanding from the west horizon and stars blinking beyond the clouds. They landed their tired dragons, Durzol hunched with heated breathes. The dragon tread to a pool of water they decisively choose to re-hydrate them. The liquid steamed in his mouth as he drank. Natasha was sitting cross armed on a rock, thinking hard when Alexandria approached her with the jerky. She took it silently and shoved it between their tusks. Alexandria dedication to this mission was lost on her, but still managed to put stress in her neck and shoulders. Her mind chewed on her thoughts as her teeth effortlessly devoured the meat in a few bites. “Alexandria,” she finally says. “Can’t you use your…” She paused, rolling her discomfort with the concept on her tongue. “Magic to find her?” More than enough times she had seen the witches use all kinds of voodoo to do impossible things. When The Matriarch was their slave, before irony made them its bitch, she was capable of seeing things in the future, locating enemy traps and locations. She even warned them of Luna and her kind on their way to invade the fortress. Locating enemies and threats seemed possible, why not be able to use it to find comrades? These sisters did seem strangely close after-all.
  2. Alexandria reached out, and as a reflex, Natasha tensed with the constant battle ravenous flame in her belly, preparing to scorch the fool that dared to touch her. Then her mind deepened its purr, overriding so many years of violent outbursts and dousing the flame. Like a tamed beast, she settled as Alexandria's hand curled around her wrist. Somehow she still felt incredibly warm as her dense muscles melted, and she followed without resistance into the tower. The orc was used to the obligations of her enslavement, forcing her to castrate her more primal nature. Usually, she'd resent the imposed weakness and vulnerability. Yet this scarlet haired woman seemed to literally bewitch her personality. Instead of begrudgingly letting her obligations possess her, those crimson eyes widened and then lazed into a half moon-gaze as she followed her, mind clean of resentment. Marquise's voice rang in her ears at that moment: You're not yourself. Her instantly ignited her temper shook off the feeling, allowing her to focus back on the moment at hand. The two jutted up the stairs and Natasha explained everything she had heard: Luna's wounded return and how Abree tended to her; the supposed missing witches, which she already deduced to be Stellestria, Una Tal, Emma, and Serra; and finally Luna's departure with two of the more skilled warrior orcs. Curt and Bale were one of the few orcs that could potentially challenge Natasha. By the time she finished, Alexandria was primed like a gold lion for battle. Natasha couldn't help but crack a small grin at the sight. This was the witch she was familiar with, an intrepid warrior springing with haste into battle. Excitement ringed through her muscle, so much that she had to roll and pop the tension from her neck. Alexandria didn't have to wait; the she-orc was on her heels. When Alexandria mentioned her bells and gave her admonitions, Natasha's grin only widened. "Wouldn't miss it," she practically growled in response at the stable. In that moment, Durzol landed behind the orc. The hazel winged-beast trembled with exhilaration fed through Natasha's empathetic link. He was already wearing his saddle, a metallic and hide welded craft. He was also adorned with metallic plates on his neck and a helm to his crown and snout. His long tail brandished weaponry of jutting spikes flared in a trident formation. "We wouldn't miss it." Durzol reared up at sight of Syvos, coos vibrating intensely under his massive husk neck and black smoke leaking from his nostrils. By the twinkle of his amethyst eyes, his interest in Syvos was still very much untamed. In fact, a scar or two on his body told stories of how he perhaps got too invasive. He slowly cranked his head over Natasha's shoulder, eyes hyper-focused on Syvos. Natasha had a twitch of irritation and instantly swung her fist over her shoulder, knocking him right in the snout. The dragon sniffed out harshly and whined, protesting at the injustice. Nonetheless, he backed up and came to a curled sit with the face that could only be interpreted as pouting. "Do you know where they went?" Natasha asked, ignoring him (and Kamal for that matter). "Many dark forests over the mountains."
  3. Natasha lowered her clamped fist as she heard the echoing steps of someone approaching. Her chiseled abdomen tightened, and her mind started an incessant purring of anticipation. She half turns her body, wanting to walk away. No, she needed to confirm that the witch was there. The door clicked; Natasha's coils of muscles tense, and she thins her lips. The scarlet-haired witch peeked her amber irises into the flaring lights of the magma hued cavern. At the sight of her, every gnarled knot within the orc loosens. Lips part with a sigh. She couldn't comprehend this sudden sensation of relief. "Natasha?" "You're here," she says in orc and takes a half step towards the witch before stopping herself. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and she falls back. "Good." The opening door further reveals the witch and the orc's eyes brazenly drawdown. No armor of gold; sleek brown leather, hard and form-fitting. Natasha gets another tinge of discomfort as she exhales away newly heated breath and brings her gaze back up. That beaming smile throws her guard and makes her clear her throat. "Have you come to drink?" "Heh, no." She said with some amusement in her voice. "No, time." Alexandria wasn't missing, and so she could have walked away, but her rational nature told her if Luna was indeed trudging in death's waters, Alexandria would dive in after her. These witches tended to devote great lengths for each other. At least this way, Natasha would be there. "Need to tell you something," she said, decisively turning full front towards her. "Orcs have stories of Luna. That she left in night because witches vanish. You know of this?"
  4. After the celebrations, the passing of time found quiet within the Witches' Tower once more. During that time, another Sister has joined the Coven, her room manifesting in the complex inner workings of the tower. With this room, a new waterfall birthed and spilled like locks of hair a pool of water. Though the flow was much too great for the pond to hold, it never overflowed. Outside, the army of orcs still worked tirelessly on expanding the tunnels of mountain. Their latest project involved networking the honeycombs of Mt Ariadne into the neighboring mountainous structure to the east; there a nest and stable of rider dragons lived and bred. There were still only 30 dragons, but through fortunate a few select were pregnant and speckled eggs dusted the nest. Torches illuminated the cute orbs in sleek reflections of hazels, crimsons, and cerulean colors. Natasha had just landed her dragon Durzol and was observing a clutch of eggs. They were placed in the hard light of a torch, and she could see shadows of life dancing through the shells. Durzol cooed over her left shoulder and she knocked him affectionately with the back of her hands. She was grateful he was immune to pregnancy. Even the thought of her own womb infected with a little parasite tightened a knot in her stomach. That's right, Marcques wanted her to bare children. Disgusting. "I'm telling ya, she can't coming back this time." Natasha lazily shifted her crimson eyes from the eggs, catching the approach of two elderly she-orcs trudging up the nearby incline. Shelia and Abree, once strong tamers crippled by age and the wrong side of a beast's fangs. Shelia was nearly blinded by a hound's lick to the eyeball and Abree lost an arm and most of her nose trying tame the wrong cavern creature. Before the witches, they would have been pick off, but Luna found them useful in the egg care. "She always comes back Shelia..." Abree crooned in a nasally tone. "Be happy she does." "Haven't you noticed? The four witches that went in never came back. That tower don't shine so bright like before. Telling ya, they died and she's next. " Natasha slowly raised her brows. Dead witches? For a moment, a part of Natasha she'd never admit existed nearly dropped all her things and bee-lined it for the tower. Her thighs literally shivered with adrenaline to do so, and her mind chastised them for the impulsive weakness. She grunted deep in her chest and warned her heart to calm itself before continuing to listen. "Well, there was something weird..." Abree said. "Some weeks ago, Luna came back without the two witches she left with, all beat up and tired. She came into the stable and I spotted her. She seemed pretty pissed that I saw her, thought that was it for me. But then she fell over, and told me to carry her to the tower. I was doing all sorts of weird things for her after that." "Like what?" "Ah you know I don't understand any that witch stuff. Mostly hold and stir things for her. She didn't seem able to move much. Could've snapped her neck like a twig. Anyway, I'd cook things for her and she dip her hands in it. She then looked at her hands, and kicked me out. Did that for a week." "I bet something hurt her real good." "Probably. Where did she go with them witches?" "Nigel told me some dark and dank forest. According to him the wit-" The orcs suddenly stopped, finally noticing Natasha. The she-orc, unashamed, walked right up to them. She towering figure made the hunched orcs visibly flinch. She stopped looked Shelia dead in her old clouded red eyes whilst own flared intimidatingly with sheer interest. "Don't stop on my account, what did Nigel say?" She commanded. "I...I'm not sure I remember." Natasha only had to stare at her a half second more before she cracked. "I mean..he said they turned into something...all white and noisy. They were no longer witches, he ran away." "Coward," Natasha snarled. "That's probably why Luna sent him to off to the dwarves. And she's there again?" "Maybe?" Durzol gave a rumbling growl behind her and she quickly spoke again. "Well, last night she snuck off with Bale and Curt on their dragons. Don't know where she went." Natasha blinked once, and then silently left the old orcs to themselves. Durzol followed after her. It wasn't her business. It really wasn't. What did she care? She was just the witch's slave. She had no orders and hence no obligations. She knew this, but still she walked...no, she ran and eventually sprinted all the way to the witches' tower. Her mind still couldn't comprehend her actions when she found herself banging on the big doors of the tower with the side of her fist. She knew exactly who she wanted to see. "Alexandria," she said loudly before hitting the door three more times. "Are you there?" As she asked the question, she asked herself mentally again why was she there.
  5. (A revival thread of The Witching Hour) Instead of it merely stealing her sight, it festered on her skin like a disease. Against such darkness, once rich buttermilk tones paled into ghostly vein tinted flesh. The aphotic world ensnared Luna in its lustful talons, burdening her breath and crippling her to her knees. She felt the long sinews of her dress fatigue and tear as she dropped into the sodden underbrush. With the gravity of weakness plastered on her back, she hunched and planted her hands into the dirt. How did this happen? Her face grimaced, curtained by sweat bejeweled tresses of jade. She squinted through the hot clouded drawl of her breath, watching her fingers drain of life and white spread up her wrists like frost. Her life seemed to siphon into the rotten roots surrounding her; the grotesque peduncles engorged and throbbing like the veins of a heart. How did I let this pass? The air suddenly screamed and wailed; so high and horrid that the darkness itself seemed to vibrate on the brink of shattering like glass. White ghostly creatures flashed across the woman's peripheral like haunting spirits. Their voices pulled crimson pain from her ears but enticed a seductively pleasant cold to her heart. How she wanted to plunge herself into that sweet numbness. To be with them and feel nothing. No. Her ostentatious mind tensed and tightened with her face. Those mauve irises embraced her dilated pupils and illuminated with showers of arcane magic. Though tremors rattled down her arms, straining to maintain her weight, a different strength rose in the depths of her core. It spread warmth back into her chest and color to her hands. Luna's hair began to float and swim around her. "I will not... become one of you," her voice came low and rasp. The brightness of her eyes intensified. The white of her hands now retracting to her knuckles. Then, between the screaming creatures, a low rumble and violent snarl echoed around her. She tilted her head up, gaze shining like stars through long bangs. "And I will not let you have them." A monstrous figure shifted between the thick trunks of the trees, deep carmine eyes flickering in and out of view. Its obsidian scales blended impeccably into the shadows, contours only revealed through the luminous nature of the witch's eyes. It, too, reflected the woman, its optics and malice danced around the image. "You may have taken them," she said with the sweetness of poison on her tongue. "But I will return...And I'll make you suffer." The creature lunged at her, ripping trees from their roots in bloody sprays of black liquid. Before its talons could touch the witch, she burst into a great nova of pure white. The energy kissed the clutches of the creature and instantly cremated the tips into ash. It hissed and withdrew. When the light settled, the woman was gone, and the beast left seething at the empty spot. ---2 weeks later--- Luna opened her eyes and closed her mind's reflection on the past. She rested on the outskirts of the Dark Forest, settled on an old boulder patched with moss and cracks. She brought her eyes to her gloved fingertips; the fingers were still ashen and white underneath. The curse nearly inflicted upon her had refused to settle. She tried every remedy the lore offered. Nothing. Her body was naturally resistant to magical curses, but still, this managed to tattoo itself upon her like a mark of shame. The demon of indifference was still her chest, the sweet desire to abandon all her emotions and lose herself into a world of apathetic bliss purred enticingly. Her fingers curled into a fist, and she inhaled deeply. The only thing that fought through it was the pain she felt in the Coven's Soul. Of her sisters. Left behind in their tortured state. She had to rectify this. Her heart tore at what she may have to do. She sent two witches in on their own were lost. The next two with herself and she barely escaped. This would be her third entry, and this time she would not risk any more witches. The seductive pull of the Dark Forest seemed to allure the nature of her kin too well. Even now, she felt the intoxicating bouquet of its breath flow through the trees and caress her beating heart. But no amount of temptation could stop the daunting shame. She should have been able to protect them. What was worse was the time it took her to return for them. She searched for a cure, but then was forced to Dougton. So many events happened at once, and she had to lie to her sisters that all was well. Finally, after celebrations of their recent victories, she returned to the forest. This time she sought different help. Three days ago, she sent off a magical beacon to the underworld, Valucre's underworld, littered and infested with dark mercenaries, the undead, the unnatural, and other near-dead and grotesque fiends. She promised a great reward to any who answered and assisted her. She was resourceful and enriched enough to do so. Today was the day to meet if any responded. She would put her prejudiced opinions of Nature's greatest abominations aside to complete this mission. "If not," she whispered to herself. "I'll do it alone." Beside her, two orcs sat cross-legged beside a fire pit. Beyond them, two-rider dragons of red and hazel hues curled up like felines. In the air at her temple, the partially invisible familiar Chubbo floated silently. The creature stared at his witch, its serpentine figure showing concern. Luna ignored all of them, her sharp eyes focused on the caliginosity between the tree lines of the forest. She'd only wait so much longer.
  6. Thread Summary (Long) Back in the Sisterhood of Witch’s Coven, the seer witch known as The Matriarch has a sudden premonition. The premonition involves a great and evil summoning of an iniquitous being, great and terrible enough to desecrate the land around it. The vision greatly disturbs the witch, and occurs at the worst possible moment, for all her sisters are gone on missions of their own. With only the knowledge that it takes place on a new moon, only in three days time, she has no time to wait for her sisters to return. After deep meditation and consultations with the Great Spirits, she learns there is a witch vital to her success and the location of her. With her Bodyguard and two orc twins Tera and Kana, she sets out on her journey to find this witch and stop the summoning. They travel to the Blue Hills, where the Matriarch uses a spell to send a message to witch and water enchantress Namiko. However, before she can explain the story in full detail, the message is interpreted as the witch and her orcs are mysteriously attacked. Though having lived most of her life in solitude, Namiko finds herself choosing to help the Matriarch. She travels quickly to the Blue Hills, discovering the remnants of the battle and the witch is missing. She finds Kana incapacited by some mysterious ailments and heals her with magic. The duo track down the Matriarch, discovering her at a campsite of mercenaries. She is motionless and teetered to a strange amulet. They succeed in rescuing Matriarch and the other orcs, learning that the assailants were mercenaries hired to drain arcane energy from spell-casters using the amulet. And that they were to return the amulet to Dougton, where rogue elven clerics would reward them. Unable to touch the amulet herself, The Matriarch entrusts the amulet to the Bodyguard. Finally rendezvoused, the Matriarch gives Namiko the final details of her vision. These are reconfirmed when the witches share a dream of the premonition that night. Despite not being a sister of the coven, The Matriarch has formed a bond with Namiko and seeks to use it to delve further into the vision. Using their combined magic, The Matriarch manifest more details the future. It tells of a cabin in Dougton that the denizens avoid and where energy is dark and hungry. She identities this place as where the summoning would take place. The witches travel toward Dougton, taking the whole of the second day. The Matriarch give hints and suggestions the Namiko has some hidden pure light magic within her, capable of saving them from the summoning and that she is vital to their success. Right before Dougton, the witches are assaulted the clerical elves, who come looking for the amulet. The witches demonstrate great synchrony in this battle and Namiko’s ability to purify great darkness is revealed. During this battle they also catch a glimpse of the great evil trying to enter their world, and while they are able to fend it off, it renders them exhausted and motionless on the battlefield. The orcs take the witches the rest of the way to Dougton by the late morning of the third day, where they rest within a clinic. There they learn of a strange illness seems to have been passing through the sanction of the city. Denizens are turning mad, leaking black liquid from their bodies and going on violent outburst before decaying into black smoke. The witches conjure a plan to use Namiko’s unique magic to help them. They implant a purification potion enhanced by Namiko into fountain within the herbal garden of the clinic, allowing it to fester and grow in time. Meanwhile, the witches leave orcs there and investigate the town. The Matriarch seeks to inaugurate Namiko into the Sisterhood of Witches, knowing the strength of the collective will further their chances of success. After some contemplation, Namiko agrees to sacrifice her life of solitude to join something greater. The ritual is and intense and takes all of the daylight to complete, but it is ultimately successful. Namiko’s soul is bonded to the Coven Soul. However, when they revive from the ritual, they find the tavern and town infested with the disease. They are attacked in their room and forced to fight their way out. They return to the clinic to discover it ramacked and destroyed. Tera and Kana survived, but the Bodyguard and the amulet are missing. At the night arose, a poisonous haze impregnates the air and black streams of liquid slither through the street. What is spared in the herbal garden of the clinic, protected by the magical fountain. The fountain, having absorbed the strength of the Coven Soul, has taken on a powerful, almost sentient character. The water draws to Namiko and she uses its strength create a great wave of purification against the infested sanction of Dougton. With the summoning eminent, they witches race to the lone cabin on the scorched and ashen hill. Namiko’s wave of purification follows them in her wake, cleansing the pathway. However, the weather becomes treacherous as they rush to the site, a thunderous storm brews with ebony rainwater pouring around them. When they reach the hill, a powerful barrier blocks Namiko’s wave from entering the dead land. At the cabin, the Summoners are there with the amulet. The Matriarch discovers that the dark nature of the earth is rising into the air and feeding summoning artifact. The Amulet itself seems to be the key to unlocking the powerful entity, the sky literally spinning onto itself and manifesting the beginnings on a portal. The witches fight tooth and tail to stop the summoning, even forced to fight the possessed Bodyguard. Death comes too close to the witches several times, and the god-like being extends its claws into the world and turns the land into a molten and broken landscape with great bolts of crimson lightning. The Matriarch seeks an opportunity, nearly killing herself by absorbing the God’s own attack into her body and sword. Broken, she passes the enhanced and tainted sword to Namiko. The witch once more demonstrates great power as she purifies the sword’s energy into a great weapon of light. She slams the Matriarch’s sword into the amulet, destroying its core. With the destruction, the amulet explodes into a force that shatters the barrier, allowing the wave of purifying waters to enter the land. It destroys the Summoners and cleanses the evil. When the portal slams shut, the talons of the evil god are severed and fall into the ground. One orc is lost in this battle, destroyed by the lightning. But the Bodyguard is cleaned and saved. The witches are victorious but exhausted of all their energy. Investigators are on their way to sanction of Dougton after the alarming storm, but Luna arrives before them the next morning. With three rider dragons with her, she carries the witches and the talons away from Dougton and back to the safety of Mount Ariadne. Summary (Short) After a premonition, The Matriarch of the Sisterhood of Witches travels to Dougton to stop the summoning of a great and terrible God by elven clerics. With her is the witch Namiko, a water enchantress that holds a great purifying affinity to her magic. Together they travel to the city, where they are forced to fight a plague of evil spreading to turn the denizens into puppets of the God. It is through a mysterious amulet that purloins magic from all that it touches that the Summoners are able to perform the ritual. The witches go through many trials and tribulations to destroy this amulet, and form a strong bond with each other in the process. The final battle takes place near a cabin on a lone hill in Dougton, a place previously corrupted by life draining energy itself. It is Namiko that manages to destroy the amulet in the final battle; done so by purifying the God’s own terrible energy absorbed by the Matriarch’s sword. With its destruction, Namiko’s great water magic is able to purify the land. All that is left is five talons of the God, severed from the body when the summoning portal is shut. Luna arrives the morning after the battle, having felt the dangers through the collective. She finds her sisters too exhausted to move, and takes it upon herself to bring them and the talons away from Dougton before the authorities arrive to investigate the previous night’s chaos. Opportunities 1. Seven strikes of an evil God’s crimson lightning has transformed earth into molten lava, which was then rapidly cooled by witch empowered waters. Obsidian rocks with crystallized energy now litter the battlefield. What might they do in the right/wrong hands? 2. The purifying waters have saturated the ground and cleaned the area. The land is now inhabitable once more. What will be done with it? Notable Consequences 1. The Sisters of Witches have a new sister Namiko Waverunner. 2. The Sisterhood of Witches gain +593 orcs to their army 3. Spoils of their adventure: 5 Talons of a “monstrous god” and a broken magic-stealing amulet 4. The 6 miles of land, once dead and draining of energy to all that came close, is now restored to capable of growing once more.
  7. For ten whole seconds, I was terrified you just removed Terrenus all together. You were about to get so many messages from me. Anyway, the only consistent thing in this world is change, so be as dynamic as you like! 😉
  8. As Namiko fell, the Bodyguard reached out and caught her on his palm. He silently lifted and slid her delicately near the Matriarch, cradling them both in his great arms. The white witch smiled softly at her sister, kissing her forehead upon hers. In the next moment, both the witches were in a deep slumber. Namiko and The Matriarch slept through the passing events of the next three days. As the surviving denizens of the town recovered from their possessed stupor, an investigation was performed by the guards and protectors of Dougton. The crimson storm drew attention from miles around, but the guardsmen were too late to intervene. By the time they came to the remote section of the town (already avoided due its tendency to drain visitors of their energy) the witches, the amulet, and talons of the demonic threat were gone. The old doctor hid the witches and orcs at the broken clinic, away from questioning authorities in gratitude for saving his family. In the meantime, the orcs prepared for the journey back to Mount Ariadne. Tana was never found and assumed dead. While Kana didn’t express grief over her twin sister’s death, she was unusually quiet during their time there. The orcs managed to carry the mysterious obsidian talons to the clinic, but transporting such clear beacons of terror would have proven very difficult. The talons themselves seemed to wash away the colors of the world around them. It was only a matter of time before they were discovered by lurking guards. However, all their problems dissipated the next dawn. On daybreak after the battle, three winged-beasts transpired across the skies of Dougton; riders dragons of the coven. Upon one of them was Luna. The Coven’s leader had been aware of Namiko and the Matriarch’s mission ever since Namiko merged her soul with the coven. The effects of the crimson storm created a disturbance in the arcane world that she too could not ignore. Luna left immediately for Dougton, but due to her late start and great distance, she had arrived the morning after the battle ended. She was relieved to find them both alive and sleeping in the clinic. After analyzing the strange energy of the talon, Luna’s decided to harvest them with the dragons. It took two of the dragons to carry the weight of them away. The steeds, Namiko’s horse and the two hoofed beasts, were left outside of the Dougton and thankfully remained unharmed. By the end of the second day, the three witches and the two orcs were journeying back to Mount Ariadne. All they left behind was a saved town and a grateful old doctor. When the Matriarch woke, the evening the third day, it would be to the whispering winds of the night air. Clouds breezed across her body, leaving a cool moist sheet upon her white skin like diamonds in the moonlight. The new moon was now a pleasant crescent shape, hooking gracefully across a starry sky. She and Namiko were secured to the back of the third dragon, sailing across to No Man’s Land. When the Matriarch departed, the rider dragons had not been a feature of the coven. She would have been alarmed, but she felt Luna’s presence. Whatever confusion she had, it vanished. The Matriarch closed her eyes once more, tightening her hand over the set of delicate fingers she grasped during the night. It was all over, and she was more than happy to keep at rest. [End Thread]
  9. “Sister?” “I’ll be fine,” she whispers, voice husk and eyelashes low. With no more energy to speak, her fingers continue to urge eagerly to the beating blade. "End this." The Matriarch had no sight, but her dim eyes still saw it happen. A pristine spirit inundating the darkness and grasping the crimson curse of the blade. Though it frenzied and fought, it ultimately submits and pales under her light. Their energy then merges into a great entity the demon could not possibly defeat. The Matriarch gradually closes her eyes as Namiko assails forward . Her pain is so great that her mind numbs into a self-preserving disconnect from the world, leaving her with nothing but deep thoughts. Her memories cloud her, bringing her back to the riverside in Coconino Creek. It was peaceful, she and her newfound sister resting by the quiet of the water. It was there that she had the premonition that had given her true hope. Celestial waters, like the waves of Heaven’s ocean, charge through brimstone and fire.. Raven locks carry the currents, guided by tenacious eyes of the rising Sun. With pointed lightning hardened to metal within her grasp, she sends her wrath into the heart of evil. Reality breaks in luminescent white followed by cerulean light. Black corpses falls with a dying moan. A small tremor occurs in her surroundings, only touching her subconscious mildly. Thoughts still overwhelm her pained body. She does not acknowledge the shifting mound in the distance. She has doubt in her actions, no reservations in ensuring Namiko possesses her all her strength in sacrifice of her own. Another tremor occurs this time, louder, and the mound closer. It is drowned by the sounds of Namiko’s vigorous pillars of water bombarding the dark elves of the summoning circle. The elves fought her with arcane barriers, but they quickly crack and burst against Namiko’s newfound strength. The summoners pummeled back, melting into smoke as they fell. The Matriarch thought...Namiko had already broken the tides of the her first premonition. Perhaps.… A large shadow cast over the white witch, the Bodyguard hovering over her with death tattooed across his twisted face. His gargantuan hand easily grasped the entire body of the Matriarch, grip so tight that her face reddened and her breath stopped. Namiko charged with determined bravado into the circle and leaped into the space of the amulet, it now protesting violently with pulsing energy. Above the amulet, the sky continued to crack in desperation. Sharp, black talons kneading through. The Bodyguard cranked his arm back, prepared to the end the Matriarch’s life on the flames of a broken tree. Lost of breath and sensation, the witch only continued to pray. Perhaps she’ll save me from my fate as well… Namiko’s pierced the amulet with the Matriarch's sword. It screamed, horribly. A great pulse exploded from the center of the jewel, spreading out in a ring around them. The ring forced away the black fog, extinguished the flames and molten earth, and then finally broke the barrier around the hill. The waters of the fountain, no longer held back, stampeded forward onto the land. Its luminescent, cerulean tides cascaded the landscape like strokes of an artist's brush, daunting the ebony canvas with color. It washed over Kana, into the crevasses, and finally upon the Bodyguard and summoning ground. The great orc froze in position, Matriarch still in his grasp. Light rose his up legs like veins, and inserted itself into his eyes. Slowly his hand loosened, and he dropped the witch shortly before collapsing himself. The remaining elves cried as the waters washed over their fallen bodies, flesh vanishing into dissipating smoke. The demon above roared as the cracks in the sky began to repair around him, its prison resealing. It attempted to breakthrough, talons reaching further for the world. The long metallic extension fought the last fissures of the sky, moments of uncertainly stretching time. Then abruptly, the sky sealed close. The amulet stopped glowing, the jewel at the center shattering as it clunked to the ground with the sword. Seconds later five large obsidian claws pierced the ground, each as great the Bodyguard himself. The demon’s talons were severed by the close of the portal. They twinkled like a black starry night, diamond dust seemingly embedded in the mysterious ivory. A surreal aura of power radiated around them for a moment, and then settled. The crimson, hellish skies cleared until nothing remained by the navy sheet of night; the air suddenly serene and cool. The last of Namiko’s water seeped into the earth, leaving it rich and brown. Kana stirred, opening her eyes slowly. Moment ago she felt like every bone in her body was broken, but suddenly she had strength to move. She rose to her thighs, hair dripping with the remains of the fountain water, and she sat back on her thighs and a deep breath of life. Matriarch too was damp with the fountain water. Patches of her vulnerable skin was repaired, the scarred skin slowly hiding itself again. Her body was entirely too weak to move, but she opened her misty eyes to the clear night. All the evil was gone from her vision, but not only that, the land seem purer than before. Her fingers twitched in the moist earth, feeling nature’s energy already beginning to seed into it. It would once more grow. Suddenly her body moved, though not of its only accord. A gentle gargantuan hand had cradled her onto a matching bed of muscle. She felt the tip of a rough finger touch her cheek. “I am….sorry.” Came the rare deep voice of the Bodyguard. The Matriarch closed her eyes and nodded her head. “Take me to Namiko.” The Bodyguard began to search the grounds, looking for Namiko with the Matriarch on his arm. He found her, hopefully unharmed, and lowered to his knees with a great thump. The Matriarch reached her hand out towards her sister, tremors manifesting throughout her muscles. “Are you alright?”
  10. In the seconds before the strike of the demon, there was a still for the Matriarch. Ebony raindrops slowed to a metaphysical drawl, dripping slow down her lashes and curves of white skin whilst her mind raced a mile a minute. Forehead pressed upon the cold wet hilt of her sword, she listened to the layers of her breast plate clank as she panted, preparing herself for what was to come. Violent crimson lightning struck the earth, clashing at seven different points. Three of them hit nothing but ashen dirt, but the ground fractured with a painful scream. Stream exploded at impact and rock melted into pools of amber magma. Once gray and dead, the landscape now lit up with luminent liquid heat. The smell of sulfur began to permeate. The orcs’ battlefield was struck by the fourth, blasting the trio apart in different directions. As Tana flew through the air, her hardened ebony hard cracked and simmered. She bounced once with sickening cracks, rolled, and disappeared into one of the newly birthed fissures. Kana landed on unscarred earth and rolled to a stop with serpentine smoke slithering from her charred skin and hair. Motionless. The Bodyguard flew towards the top of the hill, denting where he landed with a thunderous sound. The last two assaulted the witches. The heated demonic energy clashed with the cool pure water of Namiko’s barrier with a sibilant scream. The collision would feel like a strike from a car, potentially throwing Namiko off her feet. Clouds burst, fogging the area in white and sulfuric smells. When it cleared, the witch would be untouched by the lightning itself. The ground was charred around her, rocks feverishly crimson and bejeweled with golden sweat, but the witch was not. It happened as fast as lightning traveled, and all seemed well in the next blink. What was not noticed the agonized scream piercing through the turbulent winds and breaking earth. And how half the lightning had branched away moment from the strike and conjoined with the Matriarch’s. Using the ionized energy of her arcane magic, The Matriarch used her sensitivity to magic to align her energy with the demons. She pushed it into the sword, and like a lighting rod, attracted the electric energy towards her and away from her sister. She couldn’t pull it all, but enough. The two lightning bolts struck the sword within her grasp simultaneously. “ARRGH!” The pain was unfathomable. She felt as if her blood had transformed into acid and began to melt her from the inside. Her porcelain skin literally broke; fissures spreading across her snowy skin like a disease of cobwebs. It then broke off into pieces that slowly became dust. The red energy around through her in dancing lines of light and then into the metal of her sword; it stained into a scarlet color. The witch collapsed onto the earth with the sound of shattering crystal, the sword clanging to a still beside her. Underneath her once flawless skin, her scarred burnt skin revealed itself in patches along her body. Years of abusive servitude in the bowels of the orc fortress, environment scorching with flame and lava, the Matriarch’s true body was burned and scarred beyond recognition. Through the years, magic coated her skin in a hard, smooth, and perfect coat. She barely feel touch and fine textures, but she also barely felt pain. Until now. Against this attack, the barrier reached its limit and broke. She heaved and moaned from the pain, but refused to lay completely still. Though every moment was tormentous, her muscles feeling like they were grinding against broken glass as she reached her hand out towards the sword beside her. It pulsed and oscillated with vibrant with an aura the literally began to elevate it from the ground. “Sister…” her voice was inaudible, but rang loud into Namiko’s core though the Coven’s Soul. “The sword...purify the energy...and use it to destroy the amulet.” As if the attack excited the imprisoned fiend, the fissures in the sky grew in size. The amulet shivered with malevolent excitement. The jewel in the middle upturned to the skies and from it, a beam extended and hit the invisible plane of sky-glass. More cracks manifested and through the windows and gargantuan claws started to peek through, kneading eagerly for freedom.
  11. The princess approached her husky blanket and eagerly encased her shivering body with it. Her breath rose like a white gardenia against the grey and lavender sky, and she watched it blossom then whisk away into the crisp sea breeze. Her body quivered once more. Never had she felt a chill so daunting; it rang in chatters through her teeth whilst bumps crept up her naked skin. She suddenly missed her long enveloping hair. Then a wave of heat rose up her spine, ascending slow and licentious like sinful fingers. She rolled her lips into her mouth and exhaled long from her nose. On the ground beneath her, she'd just watched Tyveres' shadow meld into hers through slits of her falling eyelashes. He had walked behind her. A look of flushed intoxication transpired upon her face. What is wrong with me... The storm of images and sensations that filled her virgin mind and body in unexpected moments of closeness with this man was tantalizing at best. Like a growing parasite, it was getting worse, purring in her chest at the mere sight of his shadow melting into hers. The beast clawed fleshy images of them being so close and compressed. Of him going into her. Stop. She clenched the blanket and her eyes shut to pry the coiling, coveting serpent from around her mind. When she opened her eyes again, she was ready to hear the voice that a moment sooner, could have set a flame she'd be unable to escape. "We're nearing the shores of the ice capital of Shawnee. Based on the mountain range, we should see signs of the ice fishing village of Ystupl soon. We can find lodging and gather more supplies from there to make it through the land of ice. It'll be cold so we'll want to find a safe and warm passage to your home." “Mmm,” she managed, taking another cloudy breath. “That would be great. I-I-I” She blushed, realizing her teeth were chattering. “..am not used t-to the cold.” His shadow split from hers, the man striding to the rail and leaning so casually. She gradually turned and briefly smiled at him before turning her head down again and brushing a strand of raven behind her ear. He was so cool and collected. Last night seemed almost unreal, and his moment of demure a distant thought already. The captain was crazy, there was no way he felt that way she did. Keeping her head down, she must have looked incredibly shy with her hunched shoulders and self embracing posture; though it was mostly due to the frigorific temperature. “Cecilia…” What a deep and drawling way to say her name. Her fingers touched the extra beat between her breasts. “Y-yes?” ”Your power…” She blinked twice and turned her eyes up at him in confusion. “How well can you control it?" “Oh…” She paused and considered for a moment. “Well, generating light and sound is inherited through royal blood. I’ve well adapted to light magic, but never took much to sound.” She chuckled to herself, remembering the struggle of her attempts growing up. “Sometimes I can emit pacifying waves through my fingers to lesser creatures, even generate calming illusions. I used it on the Surpous we captured." "You may not remember, but back at the port town in Genesaris, you used your light to bring us back to land after you fell overboard. I remember that there was a warmth within that glow. I've already trained you in the way of the sword, but it may prove useful to tap more into that hidden power." She nearly dropped the blanket at this remark, the bite of cold on her naked arms springing to her to reverse it. She released uncomfortable laughter and shook her head. “What? But didn’t you save...No, that’s impossible. I’ve never been able to generate such power with my magic. My light is visual only, it cannot generate force. I mean...the captain was a fluke. I was able to use sound to restart his heart." This was obviously not true. The captain's heart was badly damaged. She not only restarted his heart, she healed it. She did not realize this though. "I was desperate and still ended up fainting afterwards. To carry two men through a storm...No, I couldn't do it. It was my biggest downfall as a princess." Her smile faltered a bit as she continued. “You see, my kingdom’s magic is primarily the generation of sound and light. Within light, there are rare cases of being able use holy light. To heal and purify. A select few are capable of one, but only in the royal family have we been able to create a sort of hybrid between the three. Producing a light that is also capable of generating sound waves. The King, for example, married into the royal family and can only use sound. As someone with royal blood, I have the potential, but have always lacked the ability. I can sometimes generate sound waves to deliver messages like I did when you first saved me.” She slithered a hand from the comfort of her blanket and held a palm open to the assassin. A swirl a light manifested at the center of her hand, floating into the air like ribbons in dance until wings blossomed and a butterfly fluttered between them. As its wings fluttered, vibrations sang through the air like a soothing song. “I can also manifest illusions that coat the eye. In lesser creatures, it can pacify and allow communication. But…” She frowned and closed her hand, causing the butterfly to burst into a sparkling rainfall of gold. “I've never produced holy light. And my sound magic is very weak. There's usually an affinity to one. Mine was light. There has only been one person I knew capable of producing great waves of sound within displays of holy light.” A coat of sadness moistened her eyes but disappeared with her next blink. She turned away from him to focus on the drifting tide of the ocean. “My mother. And she only did it once. My mother had the purest light magic of the entire kingdom. She could produce great stars of light, powerful enough to illuminate the underground kingdom for months. Twenty years ago, a horrible sickness plagued my people. Men. Women. Children. They were dying within weeks of infection. In her grief from their suffering, my fath-....the King told me her magic became the most powerful he’d ever seen. Midst their cries for help, she rose to the skies like an angel.” The princess glanced up, as if to imagine it. “And sprouted great wings of gold. As if possessed by it, she began to sing. Her voice traveled through her wings and pulsated throughout the kingdom. All those that heard the sound were purified of the infection...Then from her rained down a shower of light that nourished the earth. From that earth came a field of violet blossoms, used for years after to heal the sick.” There was a great shine of admiration and sadness within her eyes. “The Golden Butterfly has been a divine symbol of saviors for hundreds of years. It appears in royal blood truly pure of heart and in times of great sorrow. But it came at a great cost to my mother. Her heart became progressively weaker, and she died five years later when I was three. She sacrificed everything for our people until the end. So you see, I can’t have done what you’ve said...” She look back at him, a great sadness in her countenance. “Because I am the daughter of a murderer and a rapist.” She walked from Tyveres and to the fish stew the captain had prepared for them. She sat on an old rickety chair with the steaming bowl in her lap. “I’m no savior, nor am I pure of heart. I can only repent the wrongdoings of the evil King. Ones I’ve chosen to be blinded to until now. I’m just trying to free my kingdom….by slaying him.” And that made her a murderer as well. Silently then dipped her spoon into the bowel and began to eat.
  12. A great beast descends from the skies in a fury of insanity. Crimson eyes glow with tears of black. Anger and murderous intent roar from tusked fangs. It barrels over them when with a battle ax the size of a small tree, muscles rippling with pulsating veins. Its entire body consumes them with the terrible smell of brimstone and coal...Her body lays broken, blood spilling from her skull, cast against the bowed torso of a broken tree... The Matriarch stared into the empty eyes of the insane Bodyguard. His crimson optics flared back with hell-borne cauldrons of possessed, mindless rage. The gravity of the foreseen future infected the witch's muscles and turned them to cemented pillars of fear. The once frigid nature of the ebony rain seemed to transform into embers; her blood and body on fire. She felt pinned against a stake amongst flames of panic, the burn crippling and the debilitation growing like the inevitable scorch of flesh. Then a sudden cerulean spin of water pushed through the inferno to douse her flames. A freeing sensation blossomed from the center of her core leaked to her trembling fingers and toes whilst washing away the burdening lead from her body. Life rekindled within her eyes as she realized it was from the Coven’s Soul. Namiko was pulling for their reunion. She had to go to her. No matter what. With that single responsibility and desire, fear vanished. Her legs moved practically on their own, the Matriarch running up the incline of the dark hill. Like a tormented bull in a rodeo, the Bodyguard charged in furry after her. His steps were so wide that it took seconds to close the distance. He rose his gargantuan battle ax with the intent to murder the woman he'd sooner sacrifice his life to protect. The Matriarch’s eyes ignited with knowledge, she did not turn to her attacker but kept running up the hill. Seconds before ax could meet its mark, a bone arrow struck the temple of the traitorous beast. The impact diverted the ax only slightly, but severing only five hairs from the Matriarch’s crown. The wind from the strike, furious and great, blew the woman forward. She was airborne for moments than landed on the black wet earth with a throbbing heart. It wasn’t time. She stood and kept running. The Bodyguard roared in agony, as if the very act had caused him severe suffering. His muscles contorted and his eyes bled furiously. It was Luna’s curse afflicting him--his soul miles away convulsing from the betrayal. Yet he still yanked the arrow from his temple, his flesh and bone too hardened to bleed from such an attack, and set his eyes on the witch. Before he could pursue, Kana abruptly appeared in the air, her war cry loud as she slammed down onto the Bodyguard's shoulders and buried her spear deep into the nape of his collar bone. The spear lodged then instantly broke. Though tendrils of black leaked, the Bodyguard wiped around unfazed and gripped Kana’s entire head within his fist. With an violent throw, Kana flew at least twenty feet before sliding in a mangled mess across the earth. Tana immediately took her place, releasing a barrage of bony arrows sporting green hued tips. It was poisonous, but the Bodygaurd batted the arrows away with is ax. The few that hit barely marked his muscles. He advanced on her fast, forcing Tana to leap back as his ax split the earth where she once stood. The Bodyguard immediately spun with a backhand, his reach catching her midair and sending her flying in a series of gruesome cracks. Kana stood and spit out blood, rubbing her crushed, broken nose. Driven by the obligation of her enslaved soul to protect the witches, she did not hesitate to charge back into the raging bull’s path. “ARRRGHH!!” Tana too, ignoring the pain of her several broken ribs and bruised lungs, stumbled to her feet and charged forward with an heaving breathes. Neither of them had no expectation to survive, but were determined to buy time. The Matriarch's hands found her blade, tightening her grip as she and her sister ran towards the summoning circle from opposite ends. Like blood spilling from the wound, the darkness leaking from the circle clotted and congealed into a tangible force that fought their advancement. The Matriarch's sight was loss to the darkness, but Namiko’s spiritual hand guided her through it. Namiko waved her blade, her purifying magic impregnating the winds around her. The thickening darkness was weaker to her stride, she advanced further and faster than the Matriarch could. Her wind dyed the venomous air into light sky blues zephyrs of purification. As she advanced dangerously close, the elves responded. Though they did not break their circle, their echoing chants grew thunderous and angry. “YOU WILL NOT INTERVENE!!” Their voices channeled into the skies and birthed a tremor that threatened to throw the witches off their feet. The rain became a horrid downpour, mating with the cackling sadistic skies and flashing with crimson lightning. A sensation overcame the Matriarch, familiar and terrible like in their battle across the bridge. The dread drew her eyes to the skies. The clouds swirled more closely, honing in to the floating amulet. The artifact began to pulse like a living heart, each beat invoking another quake into the earth. Then suddenly, as if the heavens were made of glass, the sky cracked. Fissures sprouted from the center of the swirl, revealing bleeding wounds of carmine light. The realm of the demonic entity was attempting to open, the fractured sky the first sign of the swinging gates. The Matriarch threw a hand to her face, closing her eyes against the pelting rain. Her vision useless, she searched through her sensitivity of magic itself. Something was conjugating above then, beyond the fissures, seven points of origin where iniquitous energy gathered to be released. An ominous sound hissed all around them like the sigh of Death. The imprisoned demon inhaled deep with lust, drawing power from behind the bars and ready to unleash it through the cracks. “Sister!”The Matriarch cried out through the screaming winds. “Beware the skies! It’s going to attack!” Even as she said it, there was little she could do to stop it. Her future sight could not grasp what was going to happen next, so she acted on instinct. Slamming her blade into the ground, she knelt with hands on the handle and summoned her strength. The blade began to crackling like the skies above them. White against red. She had to protect Namiko, no matter the cost. Namiko was the key to their victory. Soon after, the demon unleashed seven great bolts of crimson lightning towards the earth. Their potency promised to not only kill but destroy the land upon which its victim stood.
  13. Considering Cheerie is entering the office shortly after him, they’d probably cross paths. I’m fine with anything; however it flows from your fingers. I am pretty sure Cheerie won’t be the competitive type.
  14. “Ms. Blossom.” “Ms. Blossom?” “Ms. Blossom!” “MS. BLOSSOM!!!” A great clamor transpired as Cheerie Pidal Blossom toppled out of her desk chair. She tumbled messily onto the wooden floor with a distinctive ‘umph,’ her supervisor Franklin having pulled the headphone from her left temple and shouting quite offensively into her ear. Tympanum ringing horribly and hip throbbing against a digging gun, the woman sat up with a long groan. She then whipped a glare through a curtain of pink tresses like a murderous child from a well. “What the hell!” She hissed whilst rubbing the strands from her eyes. Frank was well flared and prepped for a fiery retort, but instantly deflated at the sight of her. He suddenly shifted his eyes away with small streaks of crimson forming on his grizzled hairy cheekbones. He scratched his scruff uncomfortably. “Erm. Ms. Blossom…” he said in a low voice. Cheerie glanced down and released a squeak of horror, her sprawled legs opening a window to her lacy undergarments. Embarrassed and outraged, she clamped her legs closed and swept them under the fabric of her skirt. After internally cursing her decision for thigh high stockings instead of leggings this morning, she spits her anger at him like a cobra. “Well, it’s your fault!” She hissed with scarlet tanning her face. “Ever heard of a tap on the shoulder?!” The man swelled up again, regaining his composure and wiping away any guilt he felt. “If you weren’t such a squeaky, slap-prone weasel, I would have done that. How many times have I told you not to listen to music while you’re working? And be more open to your surroundings? In this field, you must be diligent, vigilant--DON’T YOU SHUT ME OFF, MS. BLOSSOM!” Cheerie’s hand paused at her muff, defiant eyes revealing she was moments from muting what would have been an annoying and repetitive lecture. She clicked her tongue and stood from the ground, dusting off her skirt. “Fine.” She plopped on the desk chair and gave her throbbing ear one last rub. “What do you want, Frank?” Cherrie Blossom was an intern at the Eastern Andelusian Guard Post for nearly a year now. She worked on forensics and interrogation of cases complicated by little evidence. She had a growing reputation of both finding elusive clues and deciphering the threads of truth within lies spindled by criminals. Her methods were esoteric, but the office stopped questioning it five months ago when she closed the case of her first homicide. Investigator Frank was her supervisor and trainer, also charged with assigning her cases. However, he often acted between the lines of a drill sergeant and awkward father figure when dealing with this intern. She had an eerie tendency to twist the personalities of those around her. “We have a case!” He slammed a file on her desk with such unnecessary roughness that wind swept through her pink hair. The cubicle behind her enjoyed a sweet bouquet of perfume. “It’ll be your most exciting yet.” “Oh, yeah?” There was a bubbly perk in her voice, and her rosé eyes glimmered with interest. She opened the yellow folder and began to thumb through the pages. As she did so, the center of her carmine coated frames illuminated in cerulean streaks like fallen stars, absorbing the information as she simultaneously read it. “Amelia Silverheart. Fancy woman.” She flipped the page enthusiastically. “Found murdered in her bed…” She flipped the next page a little slower. “Crime scene thrashed without physical evidence….The victim appeared frightened to…” She slammed the folder shut. “No.” “Come on, Ms. Blossom! This case has you written all over it! The west side is stumped and frustrated because they’ve found nothing. This is your chance to prove you’re ready for the big cases.” She curled her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it with furrowed brows. Her pretty porcelain face shadowed and aged, light lashes lowering over her rosette hues. The living blossom seemed to wither at the mere thought. She shook her head, spun in her swiveling chair away from the desk, and crossed her arms. “Don’t care.” There was a moment of silence before Frank spoke again. “You’ve got to get over this." His gruff voice was suddenly solemn and dogmatic. “You need to put high profile cases under your belt, or you’re not going to secure a position. I’ve been easy on you because you were new. There’s no excuse now.” Cheerie frowned deeper. She knew this was coming. Despite her ability, she typically stuck to low-profile crimes because she was cursed with innate cowardice. She was about as spineless as a wiggly worm when it came to the seriously creepy stuff. She startled easily and leaned heavily on her flight response. Ergo, she refused to partake in particularly gruesome crimes or anything involving the unseemly supernatural. A woman being frightened to death in the safety of her bed, with the killer still on the loose, fell easily into that creep factor. As if the murderer was suddenly before her, she hunched her shoulders and crossed her thighs, closing off every vulnerable bit of her body as possible. “Look at this,” Frank said, rounding the chair placing a flyer on her lap. “They’ve resolved to consult the public for help. Do you know what kind of people that’ll bring in? That’s how serious this is. Do this, Ms. Blossom. Or this is it for you.” She flinched as if stabbed by the threat. Her eyes rolled over the details of the flyer. She contemplated it all. Though her body was still coiled like spring and every fiber of it protested action, an internal sense of justice and pride pried her lips apart. “Fine.” She muttered. “I’ll do it.” She reached up and rotated her left muff with three clicks. In the next few seconds, the tension seemed to melt off her body. ~~~~~ Shortly after the initial exchanges between Ameraphensbane and Maximillian Bridgeport occurred, there was a gentle knock on the door. After awaiting permission to enter, a brunette staff worker named Julie opened the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Investigator. The East Andelusian Guard Post has sent over one of their own to assist with the Silverheart case. She is an intern of Investigator Franklin Delavan and highly recommended for the case. May I show her in?” On the other side of the door, the young lady's curvaceous silhouette formed against the pane behind the blinds of his office window. Cheerie was leaning on it, nervously twirling her long locks through her pink French-tipped fingernails. Her thighs were clenched together over wobbly knees and anxiety shivered freely up her spine. Her left hand remained on her headphones, clicking the muff it forward and back a few times as if tuning a station. Though her heart hummed with songs of trepidation, there was a glint of determination within her eyes.
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