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Lacernella Rubra

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Lacernella Rubra last won the day on June 4 2011

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About Lacernella Rubra

  • Rank
    The Raptor
  • Birthday 02/12/1989

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    Dhizzandra
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    Dhizzandra#6946

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    Female.
  • Location
    Montana
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    I am the Raptor.
  • Occupation
    Happy Meal.

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  1. As Above So Below - it is a "horror" movie set in the Paris catacombs searching for the prized possession of Nicholas Flamel. I like it a lot, but it's definitely not for everyone.
  2. Her impossibly large gaze peers at Morris as though he was the only thing in the bar for the longest time, that dusting of a blush deepening when his attentions find her once more. His compliment causea something inside of her to flip-flop and she felt giddy with it. No one has ever called her beautiful before, not even in jest. People were quick to dismiss her and be on their way – not that she could blame them, the chaos usually brought on by her mere presence was generally a deterrent enough for anyone. His smile was contagious, and Shanna finds herself mirroring it. Instead of a vapid, plain smile, he is given a genuinely pleased look. It is in the next moment that his attentions are drawn back to his duties, and Shanna is left with her thoughts once more. “Okay!” She chirps to him, having no intentions of removing herself from the little corner of the bar. However, her gaze travels and she is surprised at the patrons that greet her. Firstly, a weretiger, how freaking cool was that? In all her years in Valucre, she has never seen one, and now there was one right before her very eyes! She tries not to stare, but finds it difficult as her curiosity draws her to peek every so often until her attention – short as it is – is drawn by the platinum haired beauty that sports multiple fluffy tails. Shanna contemplates for a moment, how nice it would be to curl up in the fluff and take a nap. She has to remind herself that people often frown on that, however, and sighs into her cider before finishing her glass. It is in these span of moments as people pair off with those they know, that Shanna is reminded of her inevitable loneliness. She has been distracted in the past few moments, but now it is apparent. Still, she does not complain or wallow in it, instead choosing to watch those around her with a wide-golden gaze that leaves her far more innocent looking than it should. She supposes that she could get up and make small talk with someone, but she has no desire to be rude and interrupt ongoing conversations. The birthday girl seems to be quite popular, she notes, and that small tug of familiarity sits in the back of her mind. “Maybe I’ll have to have one!” She speaks to the air, excitement bubbling forth.
  3. Whatever answers Sybil is given by the two, she accepts and attempts to make small talk with them throughout their foray into the depths of the journals pages. She hums to fill the silence when it grows too long between them. “Oh, I’ve got a thing…” Sybil offered, holding up her own small stack, considerably smaller than his. It only contains one or two pages that mention any kind of artifact or act of destruction. She carefully adds them to his pile, watching it grow by those two pages. After doing so, Sybil falls quiet as she rummages the rest of the pages – eager to shorten their job to just the few pages that have mention of what they seek. By the time she has finished her portion, she only has four more pages to add. “Well, there was surprising little in mine, but. I found these. One page mentions that they had it here…but then had to move it. I don’t have a page that says where to, however.” She frowns, brows crinkling.
  4. Fate was a fickle mistress, and she seemed eager to crush Gabriela under her boot. Not only did Shanna show, unannounced and unbidden, it seemed there were others in the crowd that had purposely sought out the Black Queen. Fortunately for Gabriela, Shanna knew little of the day to day workings of the kingdom she had fled. As far as the young mage was concerned, Gabriela was safe somewhere in Orisia, living her best life. Oh, how wrong she was, but none the wiser to her faults. Her attention was quickly drawn to Morris as he offered what he called a cider, and the woman perked slightly. She had a great love of fruits and vegetables, things that were rarely offered fresh in the orphanage in which she grew up. A smile coursed across her lips as the bottle was brought upwards. She had a momentary confusion as to whether she was meant to pour the contents into her glass, or simply drink from the bottle itself. It was, afterall, her first real venture with alcohol. Deciding to err on the side of decorum, Shanna pours a bit of it into her glass and sniffs it. It smells heavenly – like a warm summer day spent on the beach, a bowl full of random berries left out to snack on. She closes her hazel gaze and nearly envisions herself there, enjoying the swell of the waves as they lap at the shore. Alas, her reverie is broken by the clubs music, and Shanna sips the liquid in delight. “This is delicious, thank you!” She chirps at Morris, for a moment, holding his gaze as though she might fall into it. It is the color of the morning sky, how had she not noticed prior? But then, it is not like her to notice these small details, which is why it’s so easy for her to forget things. A hint of a blush creeps along her cheeks as Shanna takes a moment to appreciate the form of the male in front of her. He is pleasing to the eye, afterall. Her gaze goes from the top of his delightful blonde mop, to his waist that can be seen above the bar before it suddenly finds her drink very interesting. Shanna finds it strange, these…weird stirrings in her stomach. She’s never experienced anything of its’ like. Was she in danger? Was that the issue at hand? A frown caresses her brows before she shakes her head. Clearly that isn’t the case, no one has been anything but kind, so far. So, she steals glances at Morris while sipping her drink. “Are you the only bartender tonight? You’re gonna get really busy, I imagine.” She offers, not wanting to distract him too much from his work, but also desiring some conversation.
  5. Thoth does not have the mental capacity at the moment to evade Proteus, but his trick is old hat now, and seen far too often. The TWO Goddesses at his rear are not amused, or even impressed at his barbaric spectacle, at this point. Thoth is warranted freedom from his grasping hand, only by sheer luck. He rolls out of the way in his agony, Ma’at only six foot behind to the left, and Nehmetawy, slightly to his right at the same distance move in unison. Nehmetawy’s hand grasps at Proteus’ moving arm that aims for Thoth and she would attempt to veer it off course. Her thick fingers would dig into his flesh, and he’d find that unlike with the other gods, she might leave marks with her grip. Meanwhile, Shanna prances backwards a bit, her bag in tow as she inches for the exit that they entered from. Perhaps if they can leave the halls, perhaps the Gods will give up their futile fight. Ma’at neverminds the cloak, not bothered or concerned by it. IT’s reach is minimal, in comparison to the route that she can take, though she has no objections of it wrapping itself around Shanna, knowing that it is likely the small human will suffocate if that’s the case. There is a deep rumble from further within the halls, and a great screeching noise echoes from somewhere behind them all. Ma’at pauses, the great Goddess hesitating as her gaze widens as she realizes that in his panic, Thoth has called for Romulus.
  6. Sybil doesn’t withdraw when he holds on, she relishes the additional attention. It is drawn back to their task at hand as the two join them, and Sybil offers a jovial wave to the duo. “Good morning!” She chirps, a pleasant smile plastered along her visage. As Rune crouches to translate the pages, Sybil watches curiously. His brand of magic is different from her own and she has always found it curious. Taking the pages offered, Sybil cooed and moved to find somewhere to perch so as to go through the portion awarded her. Finding a suitable portion of the floor, Sybils’ tongue wiggles between tiers as she contemplates the words on the pages given to her. The first few are nothing more than snippets of days long gone, and regrets. It isn’t until nearly halfway through that Sybil finds anything of interest and sets it beneath her foot so as not to blow away. The silence, however, disturbs her more than anything, and so she turns to the young girl, Sinjari, and Koru. “What are your plans after this?” She asks, not out of malicious intent, but mere curiosity. “I hear the Islands are nice this time of year, or will you simply move onto the next job?”
  7. Anubis suffered the brunt of Proteus’ attack, and was rendered out of the fight for the remainder of their visit. His form ragdolled off to the side, sent careening into the abyss of the hallway to not be seen for some time. Nehmetawy had rebounded from Proteus’ back as soon as he seemed to be clear-headed once more, landing to the side. Her cloak billowed before falling off of her tall form. She stood nearly as tall as Proteus’ himself, her form matronly and muscled. As a protector goddess, she had the innate ability to match her opponents as well as shield. While she could not access half of her gifts due to the syphons, she had been able to bulk to his normal strength without the extra buffs. Her muscles flexed beneath fabric as her green gaze bore into the man before them as Thoth gave a small shake of the woman in his arms. Shanna squeaked at that, looking like she might get sick. “You would threaten me over a mouse?” Thoth snorts, his attention solely on Proteus’ at the moment, neverminding the human in his grasp. “Hardly worth getting yourself worked up over, is it? Did you truly believe that a human would be safe in our realm?” He asked, his grip on the woman tightening. Shanna, meanwhile, was slowly inching her bag up into her hands. Once she grasped ahold of it fully, one hand dipped inside for a vial. A vial of noxious looking liquid was what she procured from within, the dark – crimson liquid bubbling in the glass before she unscrewed the top and suddenly thrust it back towards Thoth’s face. The god let out a surprised cry and dropped her. Shanna hit the ground – hard- and rolled with a hiss. Some of the droplets had gotten onto her cloak, and she immediately shed it as it began to disintegrate. The fabric was cast aside, and Thoth’s hands fell from his face, which was now pocked and marked as though acid had burned away at the flesh, which was not too far from the truth. Rage burned in one eye, as Ma’at roared and rushed towards the mage.
  8. Sybil finds no comfort in the cool walls and chilled floor. While her sleep is burdened with discomfort, she receives little of it, and eventually an impatient air leaves her nostrils. Rising, she seeks Rune’s chamber only to find him in similar pattern of sleep. It has been at least a few hours – enough to consider them well enough rested to continue the job, and the sooner, the better. Fingertips caress along the smoothened skin of his face, not altered with burdens for the time being. Crooning like a morning dove, Sybil leans close and plants lips to his forehead, speaking against skin. “It’s time to wake, sleepyhead.” Though Sybil knows it is likely he has been awake from her first footfall into the room. Rune is known for being diligent, afterall. “Let us collect the others and start this day – it’s far too cold here for my liking.” Impatient hands attempt to draw him into a stand. Once this is managed - with or without assistance - Sybil leads the way back to the fully lit study that taunts them with knowledge that may yet take them painstaking hours to go through. It is without complaint that Sybil sits and begins an attempt to make sense of the writing on the pages.
  9. When being held by the face and smashed into objects unknown, it is not unrealistic for a creature, God or otherwise, to attempt to free themselves. Osiris’ thrashing might have been seen as a desperate attempt, because that’s exactly what it was. He hoped to find purchase with those talons in any flesh in an attempt to be released from his torment. As it was, the God dangled wildly in his grasp for what seemed an eternity before Proteus saw fit to release him – if only to encourage his rage onto one of his brethren. Anubis knew the risks of being hit by that fist, and while held fastened by one hand to his polearm, he flattened himself as he was drawn forward. The god released one hand and twisted to the side, rolling the joint of his shoulder in an inhuman way as he flopped forward – narrowly missing the fist to his nose. Osiris, now free and disoriented, sought to scramble from his position against the floor. He rolled out of the way, barely able to do even that. Meanwhile, the speartip that scratched across his skin would find Proteus with only the thinnest scratch. Anubis lets out a toothy grin as his gaping maw opens wildly and from within spews forth a gaseous mixture of grey tint. It hovers in the air between them, before being blown upwards as though enticing Proteus to drink of it’s foul well. Meanwhile, the figure that had yet to move began to. From beneath the cloak hands rose as she stepped forward. Each step was thunderous and echoing in the hall – mimicking Proteus’ own booming movements as hands curled into fists. She interjected the behemoth’s figure leaping onto his back with a feral sort of noise as teeth gleamed in the light. Neweh drew a fist back and attempted to bring it down ‘pon his head. Shanna, who witnessed this all in the span of seconds, considered that this might not be the safest place for her, but alas, with having nowhere else to go …She joins the fray. She slips on the floor and slides between figures before being halted by Thoth’s form. The abrupt cease of movement causes her to gasp as she finds herself lifted by the scruff of her outfit, and she gives a small flail, losing a shoe in the process. “BULL! I GOT THE THING!” She waves frantically as Thoth holds her airborne.
  10. When Morris requested no payment, Shanna could only assume that the drink was on the house and reacted thusly. She moved from the bar to make room for more patrons that sought their alcoholic needs. Her attention was flighty, flickering from here to there as fingers grasped tightly her glass. She noted the round woman who entered, gaze focusing on her attire. It was so beautiful, and Shanna felt much like a fish out of water in her surroundings. A thing pretending to be pretty in a room full of what was supposed to be joy. The hush of noise is what first caught her attention, her hazel gaze meeting Gabriela’s as she looked around. It seemed for a moment that Shanna’s mouth might open and her secrets spill forth onto the floor, but that moment suspended in eternity ended as quickly as it began as her gaze slithered off to the side, no recognition in it. It was suspicious that this Isabela seemed so familiar to the Black Queen of Orisia, but Shanna had only met Gabriela once, briefly. She knew of the Queen more through rumors than anything, and had no reason to believe that she would be hiding out within the territories of Fracture. Instead, Shanna raises her glass, vapid smile in place upon her visage, and takes a long drink from the dark maroon liquid within and does not stop until the glass is emptied, mirroring Gabriela’s own desperate act. Shanna grimaces, a face being made. The wine is more bitter than she expects, and it leaves a burning, distasteful vigor in her mouth that causes her nose to scrunch. It disappears as quickly as it comes, however, and she finds herself considering more of the liquid. Perhaps this time – something sweet. So her gaze takes a secondary glance at the ever-familiar beauty that is this nights star, and Shanna’s gaze narrows. There is something…unsettlingly familiar about Isabela, perhaps it is simply her radiant beauty that draws Shanna in. Her attention flickers away, finding it rude to stare as she slinks back towards Morris and the bar. She waits, however, finding Morris occupied with another. When his attention finally turns her way, she gives a vapid smile and cants her head to the right. “May I try something sweet, this time? Thank you.” Once he partakes of her request, Shanna removes herself from his presence – not wishing to hog his attention or time as the liquid in her glass sloshes gently as she meanders through the crowd. Snippets of conversation worm their way into her ears, and Shanna finds them all curious and different but doesn’t settle upon any singular one – instead she seems to circle the area as though she does not know where she is going. It could be argued that, that is simply the case. She wanders for what seems several moments before finding a little table to stand next to, setting her glass atop of it as she watches those around her with a tepidly curious expression.
  11. Melancholy had clung to Shanna like a second skin, enveloping her in its essence for the last two weeks. It was only recently that she had decided that she needed to leave. Leave the tower, and leave Genesaris. Not permanently, mind, for it was still her home, and she was awfully attached, but for a week or so. Terrenus, or Fracture as it was now called, seemed like the perfect destination for her to arrive and Shanna was immediately taken in by the markets and various tourist like attractions. She could not deny the loneliness of having no one at her side, but she made due. She always did. For all her faults, Shanna was steadfast, at least. Whispers of that nights party had filtered through the market, and Shanna was of a curious mind. Apparently, it was a birthday party for some up and coming politician…how exciting! Shanna had never been to a birthday party, and if this one was open to the public, perhaps this is her chance to involve herself in a ritual afforded to those different than she. It was with this thought in mind that she scoured the markets for an acceptable outfit. She came upon a gorgeous, cream colored dress littered with gold stars. She was pleased with the design of it, though it was more revealing and perhaps more grand than she deserved, Shanna found herself unable to walk away and had purchased it, along with a pair of matching heels. She had been so gleeful of her find, that the whimsical mage almost ran into a group of people on her way back to the hotel room that she had taken residency. Once in the privacy of her own room, she took a nap to prepare her for the coming night, and then dressed. The cream of the dress met nicely with the slightly sunkissed skin from her recent trip to Kyros, and her dark hair pooled at the sides of her face like a frame. She could barely recognize herself, it was a far cry from the drab clothes she normally adorned herself with, and Shanna marveled for a moment the fashion in which the dress accentuated her lithe form. For a moment, she appeared her age, her youthful exuberance melting into something akin to maturity. For the first time in two weeks, Shanna gave a true smile at her reflection as she fussed with her hair for a moment before deciding to allow it to do whatever it wished. Clad in her sheer armor, Shanna descends to the streets towards the club. Her attention is immediately drawn to the line that has already formed. “Aw.” She briefly pouts, but it doesn’t remain for long as she settles herself in line. It moves fairly quickly, all things considered, so her impatience doesn’t wear thin. As she nears the front, a gasp escapes her throat. “Puppies!” She cries in excitement at the sight of the large danes that are assisting their guard counterparts. She can’t help trying to reach out to pet one, only to be rewarded with a slobbered hand. She giggles then, though it is cut short by the memory of her own hound – and Shanna sobers quickly as she ruffles between one of their ears before slipping inside of the club. The music within is unlike anything she has heard before, but it is not unpleasant. In fact, she finds herself bobbing a little bit to the beat, fingers tapping against her sides as she considers her next course of action. It’s a party, right? The small bag in her hands contains a present, a small vial of concentrated courage – and not the burning kind. The little vial is nestled within a box, with neatly scrawled lettering on a paper ring. She may not know the person, but it’s rude to show up without a present, right? Shanna peers around for a present table, or somewhere to lay her gift before she drifts towards the bar. She’s never been one for drink, but tonight she feels like, is an exception. She orders simply, a glass of wine – a precursor to heavier alcohols. Once granted her beverage, the woman moves from area to area curiously, wanting to take in all that the party has to offer.
  12. It is with great concern that Shanna huddles behind a rather large stack of books. She is closer to her quarry now than she was before, but still too far to risk darting for it with an angry Goddess on her tail. Ma’at had no intentions of letting her go free, that much was obvious, and Shanna had no desire to be skewered at the end of the menacing looking pike that the Goddess was wielding. As it was, she was out of breath and nearing the end of her stamina. She has been running around avoiding Ma’at for a while now, and she considers for a moment her options. She doesn’t have long to consider, as the large goddess begins to descend on her position. Squeaking, Shanna scrambles from her cover and attempts a spell, but no magic comes to her fingertips. “Shit.” She offers quickly, waving her hand as though that will help matters, only to find it arbitrary. She turns and flees towards the orb, wishing she could change shape for only a second, that’s all she would need. It is several moments of cat and mouse before Shanna’s hand finally wraps around the orb just in time to feel a sharp pain in her arm. She yelps, but doesn’t drop it as Ma’at’s pike grazed her opposite arm. “Ouch! That’s not necessary!” She huffs, jumping away. She bee-lines for the exit, intent on running back to Proteus. Who, while his hand was full of Osiris’ face, would find the others taking advantage of his occupied state. Osiris’ mask cracks beneath the weight of his grasp, but the figure beneath, he will find, it far more sturdy than he might remember. The God grasps his wrist with both hands and holds on, talons would dig into the flesh if he doesn’t release his hold. This motion is two fold, the poison on his talons would react quickly to Proteus’ blood – which is quickened in his veins due to his beserkered state, and two, to get the man to release his hold. While this is happening, Thoth and Anubis move forward in attempts to pierce Proteus’ with their own weapons. Both carrying polearms, they are out of the reach of the behemoth as they approach from either side, intent on skewering him like a shishkabob. “BULL!” The echo of Shanna’s voice comes from down the hallway as thunderous footsteps follow her own, quickly pattering feet.
  13. Shanna gives a pleased look as the last book is set in the pedestal. Nearly six years of looking, and she finally has them all. Glee settles somewhere in her navel and she clasps hands together as she twirls briefly in the mess she calls a room. Meticulously, however, the area near the bookcases and the pedestals that hold the grimoires are clean, and void of any potion spills, accidental or otherwise. Behind the woman, various concoctions bubble within dubious containers, and the far open window is barely letting in enough air to keep one from getting dizzy from fumes. It is in this disaster of strewn books and various contraptions that Shanna finds comfort. Surrounded by comfort is a privilege that she holds desperately to, having had precious little as a child. Not willing to dwell on that particular train of thought, Shanna turns her attention to her familiar, Brutus. He is staring at her with a strange determination, and she gives him a confused look. “Do I have something on my face?” She asks, rubbing with both hands before pulling them away to find nothing ‘pon her palms. “Huh.” She offers, turning once more to walk away from the books and towards the door of her chambers. “Tristram promised us Ashplumbs for breakfast! We should get going!” However, the Hellhound doesn’t budge. Instead his head cranes towards the books as though he is deliberating a course of action. Shanna has never seen Brutus respond this way, and concern filters across her features. “What’s wrong?” She asks, only to be met with silence once more. “Brutus?” Shanna sidesteps towards him, her head canting a bit. The hellhound seems not to hear her for the longest of moments until she is upon him – it is then that he snaps, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her forearm. Shanna stares in disbelief as blood pools around puncture marks, and Brutus refuses to move. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, before tears spill down her visage. “Why?” It is a simple question, but packed full of emotion. Why would her own familiar attack her? Was she so despicable that even one bound to her through blood and magic couldn’t stand her? What had she ever done in her life that warranted such hate? Clearly, merely existing was enough. “Why?” Anger replaced the shock, and it burned in her stomach like hot iron, heavy and intense. She grasped ahold of his head with her free hand, and jammed her fingers into his eyes. Brutus howled and released his hold on her, stumbling back as he pawed at his face in an effort to reclaim his vision. He doesn’t, for the time being, and Shanna draws up her injured arm, drawing a sigil in the air out of her blood. “Brutus Bloodfang, I banish you! I banish you to the ends of the world, never to return!” She cries, slinging the spell. The bond between them stretches into a thin line before snapping like fishing wire when pulled taut. It leaves Shanna breathless – a void now present in her heart – as the creature before her howls and thrashes before disappearing in a whirling vortex. As the winds die, Shanna slumps to her knees as the ehco of the lost bond fills her senses. It is almost too much for her to handle as she sobs quietly into hands that have pressed against her face. It is this way she remains for nearly two days. When she finally rises, a resolute calm has washed over her. So Brutus was not her familiar, or even her friend. So what if everyone she cared for left in the end? The walls of the tower will protect her, and this home will never leave. The people within might vanish and come anew, or they might filter off entirely, she doesn’t know. Shanna finds herself tired, tired of trying to be someone worthy of love. If they can’t love her for who she is, then they can go suck an egg. Drawing in a deep breath, she rises stiffly from the floor and makes her way to Tristram to see her wounds cleaned.
  14. That Proteus thought himself untouchable was laughable. The Gods were not petty children who hadn’t seen his behavior before – nay, even as he said, they had witnessed his rampage prior, and now again. Only this time, they were better prepared for it. His matter-eating being would be halted in it’s very steps as the walls around them, though cracked and splintering, began to glow. The area quickly became a deadzone. No magic, mysticisms, or powers could be of use in the presence of the halls. This, unfortunately, meant that the Gods had to abide the rules as well. There would be no more fancy protection for Thoth when Proteus got too close, nor would there be the disruption of his cape any longer. 1 It would also halt the kinetic wave of energy that came from his hand clapping – for Proteus wasn’t considering that if he levelled this playing field – he would level the very thing he was after. It was likely his beserker mode that refused him the facilities to consider such repercussions. His unnatural strength, however, was still at large, and the Gods would have their hands full contending with that. Osiris came forth, unstopped by his wave except for a few ruffled feathers, scimitars swinging in an effort to sink into the depths of muscle that covered the mans back, while Thoth stumbled before regaining his composure. For now, Anubis would make no move.
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