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Narcissa

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About Narcissa

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    Acolyte
  • Birthday 07/09/1989

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  1. Narcissa

    General chat thread

    All I'm saying is that if the casual Disney Princess t-shirts from the newest Wreck-it-Ralph trailer aren't made into ACTUAL shirts I can purchase, I will be very disappointed.
  2. Narcissa

    An unfortunate....arrangement

    You hear that? Carlos is super interested.
  3. Narcissa

    The Road Less Traveled

    “We’ll keep your social engagements to a minimum for the time being; I’ll not have this be the first the public sees of you." The cut of Rou's leveled gaze, managed with some difficulty for his mild nudging of her chin, made it apparent that she wasn't in a mood to favor Rafael's manhandling. She projected a nasal grunt from her nostrils, breathy and quick, in the way a steer carefully dissuaded an itchy, pesky fly from remaining on his nose. With no patience for her petulance (as opportunely quiet as she was), he pushed again with scrutinizing consideration, breaking her gaze only because she hadn't the desire to break her own neck in the sake of pettiness. When he'd preferred the comfort of the back of his seat, Rou's gaze remained on the dawning landscape, the gentle bump of the carriage on the road rocking her involuntarily back and forth. "You didn't have to strike Brovnik," Rou answered gruffly, with a compromising curve to her brow as she stole a brief look, feeling that late was better than never. It hadn't sounded like the threshold to open an argument, but rather just the voicing of her disapproval. What was done had already been done. Brovnik, the graying smith that owned From the Ashes, had made the mistake of trying to bar Rafael's entry through the door, for Rou hadn't been able to explain clearly enough why she had to leave. Without her saying as much, Brovnik knew (before Rafael's hand had even raised in turn) that he was the one that blemished his fellow smith's skin with unsightly bruises, and contributed to her melancholy. Rou had only been quick enough to keep the Umbral Emperor from striking him a second time, and in doing so earned the rather painful badge of his ire she now brandished on her cheek. She raised a hand to it, just hovering over her blue-and-black mottled cheekbone, but declined to touch it for it's soreness. "He was only trying to help." Her concessions were lost on him, and thus she returned to the scenery. “That manor was an invaluable piece of this region’s history, but I’m sure you knew that. You didn’t care – because what could ever be more important than you, and what you want, right? Rou hadn't looked affectionately upon the new structure being built in the wake of the late Calera Manor, nor had she looked apologetic for her actions, but her lips inevitably wrinkled in a sour grimace for Rafael's presumptions. True, Rou gained some satisfaction from the destructively cathartic burning of her house, having brandished hazy green bottles of Orisian wine like murder weapons against the walls before setting it aflame to burn in the night, but it wasn't the only reason she'd done it. By also burning down half of Umbra's Hall of Records, Rou had secured quite a pretty penny in alleged contract for the property. She hadn't seen any of that fortune, for she knew law wouldn't support her in claim to her own prosperity, but that hadn't prevented it from going to her stewards as namesake. "Oh, please," Rou scoffed, with quite a bit more sarcasm than necessary or appropriate, "Cole and Thaladred were just as happy to spend those crowns I raked in; of course they're wounded to see it go." As Military Commander and Treasurer of Umbra, respectively, their favor was inevitably bought by the fortunes that sponsored their expenses-- the General Augustus Cole pleased to re-outfit the City Watch in all-too-much grandeur, and Bianca Thaladred, with that permanent pinched scowl of hers, was personally partial to the new summer house she was allotted to purchase with the surge of finances. "Mircea didn't like me much to begin with, but even he admitted that Eros Calera was a blight upon humanity," she said, pausing over the word for it's awkwardness, and scowled anyway. "You think I was going to leave Beatrice and Darius to fend off those wolves while the council repossessed their only home? Eros may have been a terrible vampire, but his cousins--" Rou had no better word to describe their familial bond with their unfortunate late heir, for she truly hadn't even asked or understood how these vampyres were related, and continued, "--aren't. And they deserve better than that rotting sarcophagus." The former An'She hadn't heard the elusive Zenahriel's opinion on the matter, for she had never met him at all upon her term, but she knew the other three well enough to have pantomimed their exact reactions in her head; they all had their own interests, least of all was the actual history of the disgraced family of Calera. She remembered the awful, narcissistic paintings that adorned every wall of Calera Manor all too well, and the stench of death and old that just couldn't be cleaned out. Even if she hadn't burned the place down, Rou never would've returned to that place... and even the Umbral Palace, as uncomfortable as she feared returning might be, seemed divine by comparison. "That place can rot in the ground with him," she ended on the matter, sounding more selfish and out of personal interest; she had a reputation to uphold. Rou, privately, hoped that with her interference Darius and Beatrice Calera fared well enough. Regardless of favors done, however, she felt that Rafael was right on one point, much to Rou's melancholy-- she didn't have any more allies. A turn of her head showed a briefly poignant look to the intimidating Emperor across from her, considering the terms of their re-evaluated companionship. It was exactly what she'd wanted, even if not in the way she'd wanted. Her amber-yellow eyes flickered down, as if able to see the bruised blue of her cheek, though the gentle throb of pain reminded her often of it's presence. The things one endured to be Empress. "Then again... Perhaps my days of being a patient man should come to an end?” He interrupted her ruminations with the theft of her foot from the floor, guarded only by a brief shield of nylon, which did little and less to prevent the ascent of his tapered fingernails that threatened to pill her stockings. "Says the man who supposedly decided to marry his cousin upon only an eve," she retorted, her arched eyebrow perched high with terrible scrutiny, waspish as she tried to pull her foot away from his capture. Holding fast, she didn't receive it upon the first try. Rou knew that eventually she would pay for that quip; she just hoped it was later, rather than sooner. She couldn't think of anything that could've made this carriage journey more uncomfortable, judging by the sour look that tainted her face. "You were never a patient man," Rou refused, glowering back at him, even though it meant leaving the sight of him dimpling her skirt unattended, "Just playing at one." Pushing back with her leg to loosen his grip first, she tried again, thankfully to some success. She paid him a grin, though it was indiscernible whether it was for the relief of gaining back her limb, or thinking herself clever. Her smile was short-lived, as she already anticipated his response, that she had received endless bounty of his so-called patience, and the smirk faded just as quickly as if he had said them. She hoped that was enough to spare her from earning a bruise on the other cheek. Knowing full well what Rafael's restlessness often had in store, Rou sighed deeply, a serene, feminine hum that eradicated what remained of her biting pettiness. Reaching for the window as the dawn began to brighten the carriage, Rou's calloused fingers drew at the cords of curtains, dutifully releasing the fabric to shield them from the sun's light. While Rafael, in his ascendancy, was no longer a vampyre and so vulnerable to the light, she knew he often preferred the dark, if only out of habit. With a long scooting of her rear against her seat of the sizable carriage to reach the other side, she evened the lay of curtains on the other side, before exhaling at the discomfort of rising from her seat, a careful hand on the roof to prevent the bumping of her head, and reclaimed a seat beside Rafael. "If I'm not to be in the business of showing off my newest color to the Umbral public," Rou said, slightly droll in her tone as she motioned briefly to the bruise on her cheek, "Then perhaps my spleen can wait to reshape to the structure of a corset until we're home." She had been wearing a dreadfully tight thing since the ship in Hyperion, where they'd made the voyage by sea from Terrenus to Genesaris, landing at the nearest port within the Arcane East. It was still a far trek inland to the holy city of Umbra, and Rou had misjudged just how sorely her body had become unaccustomed to high fashion in just the span of a few months, and she'd even given up on shoes much more quickly. Sitting on the edge of the seat beside Rafael, with a pull of her hand she swept the length of her sable ponytail out of the way. It revealed the tight-bound cording of the red corset, following the path of her spine all the way to the ruffled of her skirts, but did not spare him the silhouette of her favorably round rear-- much, as she figured, to his benefit. With a significant time left until they would arrive, Rou couldn't bear the thought of wearing the cage around her ribs and bust any longer, and would settle for the gently pleated linen blouse beneath. With a keen lidded survey of Rafael over her bare shoulder, a token of the dress' deep, less-than-modest neckline, thick wings of eyeliner lowered her gaze with some bit of sultry invitation. "Would you?" she asked, her lips parted briefly in that way she knew he liked. They hadn't been on the best of terms, nowhere at all near the endearment they used to show for each other, but that hadn't prevented Rou from secreting him a private view of her caramel skin: the way her shoulder blades, with a newfound strength gained from her time at Tiandi Wushu, arched delicately in perfect mirror of each other; how her smooth hair met with the nape of her slender neck, for once unencumbered by a choker in a rare display of inaccessory; or how the skin of her shoulders freckled, nearly invisible without such close inspection, from the past kiss of the sun. However, even sweet moments with Rou were not quick to last, as her head returned to the front, her nose snootily in the air. "And I don't want another repeat of last time. I swear to Gaia's seven hells, Rafael-- if you rip another corset, I will be very cross with you." Rafael knew he had no reason to be intimidated by her half-veiled threats, particularly evident through the lightheartedly narcissistic tone in her voice, and would hopefully share her humor in it. Though, if you had asked Rou, fashion was no laughing matter.
  4. Narcissa

    Hey, hows it hanging

    Darn, Carlos deleted my 6 option. The operator keeps telling me to dial 9 on the next menu...
  5. Narcissa

    Two If By Sea (Last Chance Raid OOC)

    That’s just Tenkai’s face.
  6. Narcissa

    Two if by Sea (Last Chance Raid)

    Character Name: Rou Ji Affiliation: Order of the Force Majeure - Contracted Location/Objective: Hyperion, days prior to the fight / getting a goddamned grip Allies: @Twitterpated Enemies: none within range -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Days prior to the fight... The path from Hyperion to the headquarters of the Order of the Force Majeure hadn't been a necessarily long one, but it wasn't short, either. Rou, in an uncharacteristic move of volunteerism, was this trek's chosen and only dispatcher, leading a cart of weapons drawn by a horse down the paths. Bayonets, melee weapons, and even gunsmithed magitech rifles, all freshly forged in the byways of Hyperion, were steadily making their way down inland to the nearest portals bound for Sigil, carefully monitored in the outlands between territories and patrolled by guards, a shipment being delivered just in time for a very particular cause. The Force Majeure had made an order with the blacksmith who ran From The Ashes, Brovnik, for a notable Second Officer, one Jin Hayabusa, was familiar and trusted the work of his latest underling, Rou Ji. It was because of this blooming affinity that Rou had insisted she be the one to make the delivery. When Rou had arrived within the gates of The Bastion, the Force Majeure's headquaters, it was overrun, swarming like a hive. Rou had to maneuver the direction of her horse more than once to keep out of the throng of people, the Guardians, Custodes, Knights, and all others of the Order of the Force Majeure all working with an unusual urgency. As she'd managed to notice, steadily, in her casual caution to not be trampled or cut off, that not all of the uniforms were that of the Order. Rou had been a resident of Patia, Palgard, and Hyperion long enough to know the insignia and armor of the Terrenus military when she saw it. Jin had run out to meet her, catching the reapprenticed smith by surprise, the usual eagerness in his stride, as he seemed to have a keen sense for when Rou was nearby. She temporarily discarded her concern for more favorable conversation. "It's all here," she said, accomplished, as she flipped a top on the back of the cart to show all the inventory within. "It took awhile for Brovnik to decipher the designs from the Forces' tomes, but we finished them just in time. They fire true, but I'm no marksman." Jin had seemed pleased, but if he'd answered with praise, she hadn't heard it. Rou found herself distracted by the gathering of troops, which were becoming much more prevalent and numerous, and barely noticing a gesture made by Jin, her weapons were no sooner starting to be distributed, held at attention by those soldiers firstly to be presented them. Managing a forced, albeit a bit nervous, smile, she turned back to Jin. "What's going on? Wasn't this to stock the armory?" Rou started listening, with a smile that gave him the benefit of the doubt. Shortly into the conversation, that smile disappeared. "Last Chance, are you crazy?" Rou asked, her voice nearly breaking, obviously stunned by the question, so much so that she couldn't pose both requests that stupefied her at once, "Go with you?" The black-haired smith was stricken, caught between the prejudices that her past had taught her to be wary of, and a knack for finding Jin's naivete. He hadn't been in Valucre long, long enough to know that Last Chance was a thicket for thugs and thieves, despite it's recent comeuppance. The penchant for violence was a hard one to stamp out, because ne'er-do-wells bred like rats and were hard to exterminate like them, finding even the smallest nook to hide in while the Regent patted herself on the back, settling that gang violence was better than unorganized violence. Jin saw a fortress in need of protecting, Rou saw a giant casket to die in. The only thing anyone went to Last Chance with was a deathwish. She'd yelled at him, with no caution or care for who might hear, ignoring the curious glances of the Custodes and Terran soldiers organizing nearby. It wasn't his fight, it was far too risky, and in Rou's opinion, Last Chance hadn't been worth saving. And yet, with that confident, ambitious, stupid grin, Jin would walk blindly into death. Rou was afraid, not only for him, but that he would ask her to do so, as well. He refused to concede, and Rou's voice --and her temper-- escalated. Her fighting days weren't over, still believing herself worthy of carrying a sword into battle with all due confidence, but there was no glory in this fight. There was so little to gain, and far too much to lose. Rou, nearing the end of her wits, betrayed her greatest fear. "When are you going to learn that you don't always have to be the hero, Reiko?!" The courtyard of the Bastion was quiet, deafening. It took Rou a moment to realize what she had done, met with a curious stare by Jin, who had stopped trying to justify himself. Through the peripherals of her wide yellow eyes, the soldiers had hundreds of eyes on her, bearing down on their stilled confrontation. When she looked back at Jin, who was terribly and understandably confused, she could hardly breathe. She tried to swallow, but the lump in her throat made her choke, a sinking feeling that cast deep down into the pit of her stomach. The air was stifling, her hand trembled, and she couldn't bear to be seen this way. She couldn't bear to look at Jin that same way she'd had to look at Reiko after he died. Rou didn't want to remember that foolish grin --cold, dispirited, and lifeless-- from a funeral. "I-I have to go," she stammered, unable to make eye contact with Jin. Rou couldn't endure the thought of staying there for even another moment, quickly reaching for a knife in the back of the cart, and cutting the reigns to the horse. Rather than wait for them to unload the remainder of the cart, Rou hopped to catch her foot in the stirrup, and launched herself into the saddle with a swing of her leg. With a click of her teeth and a bucking kick of her heel into the horse's flank, Rou fled into a hurried gallop that carried her out of The Bastion, no care to the throngs of people in her way. There were tears in her eyes. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night before the fight... Rou had spent the past few days in From the Ashes with nary a word, just the constant ringing of steel like a chiming, rhythmic bell. Brovnik had only pressed her once, before making the decision to simply let her be and work out her troubles on the steel. She was melancholy, to be sure, but the drive of her hammer upon metal was determined, a fire not only in the forge, but in the back of her golden eyes. Rou's inner fire often represented her bright spirit, but this time flickered for concern, frustration, and pain. Since she'd returned, the only piece she'd worked on was a halberd, a custom piece carefully designed by it's intended owner, a promise to create that Rou had intended on keeping. In need of careful precision, hard to procure materials that he had so eagerly brought her, Rou imagined that there was no weapon better suited for Jin. Brovnik was loading up a second cart of weapons and materials, bound for the port in Hyperion to make an additional run of supplies to Last Chance, hopefully to be there in time before the battle, in order to arm the allied guards, and any troupes of mercenaries contracted to defend the city. The horses were reigned and ready, the cart was filled with steel to the brim, and the graying smith made one last pass by Rou. "For someone who believes it to be a lost cause, you've spent a good deal of time working on a dead man's weapon," he said keenly, gesturing to show that he was only concerned. "Why?" Rou proceeded to hammer out a few more strikes upon the steel, until they slowed, and inevitably stopped. The black-haired maiden, smeared with soot, paused to sigh heavily before wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the turmoil was evident behind her eyes. Her voice broke as she tried to answer, but no words would come. She couldn't justify her actions. Brovnik, as sagely as he was, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, relieving her of the silence. "If you take the weapons to the harbor and board the ship, you'll be in Last Chance by morning," he advised, with a gentle crane of his head. He seemed appropriately somber, helpful, only trying to guide Rou to the choice closest to her heart. "They'll have better chances of winning the fight with you there." He'd never seen his new ward hold a sword more than to practice, but as a former soldier himself, he knew the practice arm when he saw one. He paused, seeing she had gathered her words. "No," Rou had responded, though she had no defiance in her voice. It was simply positive, without uncertainty or room for doubt. "I have made my position on the matter," she said to dissuade him from trying again, though she couldn't manage to do so without a brief gritting of her teeth, "Off with you, or you'll miss the drop. I won't have you liable for a broken contract on my account." Brovnik, thankfully, didn't press the issue, and left without another word. Rou hadn't even looked out the window as the cart creaked and clopped away. She began to hammer at the steel again. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hours had passed, though Rou hadn't counted how many, it was too late into the night. All the while, her face appeared more frustrated as she drove her smithing hammer down upon the rod, angrily beating at it like a punching bag. It had caused her to make errors, the recklessness of her stride, which then had to be carefully corrected in order to salvage the piece. Rou had beat all her worry and agony and frustration into it, and with a single last ring of the hammer, it was done. Thrusting it into the bath with a pair of tongs, it hissed, cooling in a cloud of steam. Staring at her from within the unsteady rippling of the water was a masterpiece, just undressed and naked, freshly borne like a babe. Rou stared at it for a long while, contemplating the work, the battle, and all else. Of all the times to feel doubt, this had certainly been inopportune. Jin was a prominent Second of the Order of the Force Majeure, and James, his Master Knight, would be there watching, leading the fight. In the reflection of the halberd's blade, she saw the hungry and restless excitement she remembered in Jin's eyes, and Rou knew exactly why. The Battle for Last Chance would've been the tipping point towards his promotion to Knight, an accolade worthy of the ascension among the ranks of the Order. However, his desire to make a name for himself was leading him down the path of a fool's errand, one that would cost him greatly. Uncertainty, of all things, weighed now heavily on her mind. She spent so long in silence, but her mind was noisy, and she slapped at the water to disrupt it's visibility to the blade at the bottom. Frustrated, both at him, and at herself. "Why does he put me in a position like that? Why would he risk his life just for glory? Why aren't I enough?" Rou thought, the myriad of questions all notoriously selfish. She felt guilty for damaging his morale, but felt an even greater fear for being alone, again. Jin had been one of the few recent joys of her life, a loyal figure that she hadn't expected to let her down in this way. Guilt bubbled in the way she hadn't liked, for she knew by forsaking him, she had let Jin down. He had asked her to be with him, if nothing else, to share in the camaraderie of battle, to have his back while he had hers. She had turned him down, and admonished him for it. Rou, frustrated with her inner turmoil, was battling the demons of her selfishness with the fear of self-preservation and the fear of loss. She knew what the right choice was, despite it's hardships, and with an angry, gruff burst of her voice, Rou resolved that a lapse in better judgement was necessary. He had this uncanny effect upon her. Rou had to go to Jin. She had to be there by his side, no matter the outcome. Ride or die. She leapt from her place in the forge and quickly made to grab provisions-- her weapons, armor, the essentials. The last thing she selected was Jin's finished halberd, just lacking it's intended paint and magical enchantments, which she'd resolved to finish on the boat, if she could catch it. Hastily with all her things in her pack and his halberd held confidently in her hands, she sported a grin that came with knowing she would soon be beside him again. "I'm coming, Jin." Rou valiantly made for the door, opened it wide, and-- His entire presence filled up the threshold, like a large, black shadow, from which two beady red eyes pierced the darkness. He was like a ghost in the doorway, one that drained all the color from Rou's face as she looked at him, stunned... and afraid. Rou was apprehensive, clutching onto Jin's halberd in her hands, but didn't move to take her eyes off of him, neither did she run. Rou's breath froze in her chest, and all she could manage to take was a few half-steps backward, inching away from the intimidation that radiated from the door. Terrified was the only way to describe the look on her face, and all determination, or even joy, that came with the previous moments were so quickly fleeting. All that was left was cold, abysmal fear. With the space regained, he entered himself within the forge, and closed the door behind him...
  7. Narcissa

    Two If By Sea (Last Chance Raid OOC)

    I'm doing a semi-related one-off in the event thread, don't mind meeeeeeeee...
  8. Narcissa

    The Fox and the Wolf [Tiandi Wushu]

    Rou's rage had been short in expenditure, lacking a punching bag to vent all of her frustration over the past several weeks. Jin had unfortunately reached the boiling point of Rou's patience, and perhaps a bit of her ego was at play, as if picking a fight she knew she could win. He couldn't understand or be expected to, though that mattered little in her current state. For all the figurative beatings karma had decided to dole her of late, it felt good to lash out with more than words, her aggressive tendencies usually tending to be more bark than bite. She snarled with the grinding of her teeth, held tightly onto her wrist as she kept his crown captive within the lock of her arm, jerking to keep him threateningly close. For that fraction of a moment she felt like she could be in control, that she could stop the damned world from spinning for just a few minutes while she caught her breath before being flung into it again. That was, until the reverse of gravity wrested her from it. The world stood painfully still as she was lifted off of her feet, suspended in that elongated moment with Jin's brawny arms tethered around her waist. Her eyes widened to only beady points, a speck of yellow in the growing vast sea of white, her heart and breath trapped captive in the barred ribs of her chest, motionless. Rou didn't recall releasing the grip of her arm around his neck, all that she knew was that she had. All at once, time reminded her of it's omnipotent presence, and was hurtling them backward. All Rou could do, in the tightness of Jin's less-than-affectionate embrace, was meagerly shift, only enough not to come down on her neck. They both collided with the ground anyway, painfully on her shoulder, before she tumbled haphazardly out of his arms. She felt like a ragdoll, unable to stop herself from the harsh rolling of her body in the dirt, caked in it like an unattractive layer of makeup. Rising after the fall came with her hands purchased in the dirt, her hair in disarray, although no less animated, as a jerking toss of her head moved the bulk of her ponytail out of the way with an emphatic whip. She was panting, stricken, brow pinched with a million questions that couldn't have rationality at all upon the agenda. Stupidly, she asked --or rather, yelled-- "Did you just try to suplex me?!" Rou wasn't seethingly angry, nor was she hurt, but obviously overwhelmed by her own temper. He'd bucked her off like some sort of antagonized steer, though Rou had been the one unfortunate enough to have proverbially climbed on his back. Being handled so roughly left her emotionally bereft and bewildered, forgetting entirely to rationalize that she was the one who'd started the fight. In a struggled crawl, she managed to only pick herself up enough to scramble over to Jin, prop herself on her knees, and grab him by the collar of his track suit. "What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded as she pulled his back from the dirt, her fingers clenched so tightly around the chest of his jacket that her knuckles turned bone-white. Rou, unusually slow to have a follow-up question or quick-witted barb, panted, her heart beating so quickly she could hear it drumming in her ears. The dirt was patched on her like the wrong color of powder, staining her skin with both discoloration, and the dusty, earthy smell of the forest. Her ponytail was slightly loose, offset, tangled in it's natural waviness as it proved to be in her way again, and was whipped like horse reigns behind her with a quick check of her head. Still almost too dumbstruck for words, Rou visibly struggled to have a grasp of her emotions. "Throwing me like that? What's wrong with you?" The line of reasoning wasn't fair, but that hadn't seemed to dawn on Rou-- most of the argument she was having was with herself, and unfortunately the man whom she had seized by the neck couldn't participate. She started a dozen questions, none of which Jin was expected to or even could answer, none of which came out to more than a few frustrated noises and some concerning facial expressions. Rou was a host unto herself, and as she tried to rationalize interrogation into words, she finally realized she could not. With an exhale that heaved her entire body, she sighed, everything just short of surrendering to her imagined grievances. Her heart still pounded, and her face still wore that apprehensive expression, still on the high of adrenaline from her anger that had not yet subsided with her forfeiture of the argument. Rou, with no better outlet to balm her pride, gave in to temptation. Her grip tightened on his collar, again. "Oh, what the hell," she muttered, yanking him towards her and capturing his mouth with a hard, reckless kiss. It wasn't as sweet or as genteel as it had been upon their first rekindled meeting, too hungry and messy to be romantic, but it was obvious that Rou hadn't cared. The exhale through her nose washed down his skin as one of her deft, calloused hands moved, snaking behind the nape of his neck, sharing in a moan that reverberated in her throat, and unbeknownst to him, elsewhere. The serene close of her eyes lacked their sultry gaze, rather swept away in the tide of reveling in him. The boy wasn't practiced at kissing, but for Rou's selective enjoyment, Jin hadn't needed to be. She made no quick work of it, taking her time to conquer and devour more of his lips, capturing them as her own in pounce after pounce, a subtle viciousness and competitiveness that was determined to make him fall for her... or perhaps, leave her vulnerable to doing the same. Rou parted from him, not because she wanted to, but felt as if she must. Bedraggled of breath for quite a different reason as she stared at him now, yellow eyes burning with only one question. She didn't have to speak it, but the pause of silence was no less deafening.
  9. Narcissa

    General chat thread

    Or, as I stated earlier: Dear @Grubbistch, NO. Love, @Fierach
  10. Narcissa

    General chat thread

    I want to have my characters send letters, that sounds neat... Though Rou’s letters would probably consist of a crudely-drawn cartoon of her flipping the bird at the reader, and then send it to everyone she hates. ... which is also everyone, period.
  11. Narcissa

    General chat thread

    I don't think she realizes just how many obligatory/honorary aunties/uncles Avalynn has.
  12. Narcissa

    General chat thread

  13. Narcissa

    Custom rank title 8

    Meeeee. Give it to me nowwwwww.
  14. Narcissa

    Custom rank title 7

    I'd like to have a shot at it, sweetheart.
  15. Narcissa

    The Fox and the Wolf [Tiandi Wushu]

    "Not passionate enough?!" Rou shouted back at him, appalled, only afforded the courtesy to have finished his words by the stunned silence that had originally offended her. If she had been walking, she would've stopped dead in her tracks to match her floored jaw, agape with disbelief, and moved only by the inadvertent sway of his stride. Not yet having forgotten her sense of responsibility for Umbra and her old territories, the alarming buzzwords would've under any other circumstances would have stricken her with concern, but the selfish woman was too concerned with her own sleights. Often enough Jin had witnessed the fire within her eyes, the golden glow that could be as warm and inviting as a fireside, or as powerful and determined as an inferno... but the wideness of her eyes surrounded by thick charcoal-black lines had the tenacity of wasps, swarming and irate. A glare as severe as the one she'd paid him could've stung. Pushing forcibly at his chest with her hands, he only swayed at her first outburst. Dissatisfied with his lack of pause, she gritted her teeth and wriggled, pressing against his shoulders with her palms until he was forced to release his hold of her; the descent of her feet into the dirt could've shaken the earth. Her uncharacteristically unpainted lips were turned into a sour grimace, perfectly-sculpted eyebrows now jagged and poignant as they weighed down on the inner corners of her eyes, though Rou's glare pierced through the burden of her pinched and heavy brow. "My passion is all that keeps my family's art from being dead!" she splayed a hand over the cleavage of her chest, sinking into the valley, gesturing combatively towards her heart. She had become immediately defensive, argumentative and biting to the last word-- though in many ways, Jin had been right. Rou was never one to admit that she was wrong, for despite her maturity acclaimed from over the recent years, she was still habitually known for learning the hard way. She pushed at him again, an effort of her entire body to shove him back, but only managed a step. Again, she shoved, more violently, snarling through her teeth. All of her outrage, her resentment, her fury, had all been buried beneath the crushing weight of hopelessness and feeling lost. More than she had in recent moments, she looked more like the memories of her character that Jin likely remembered-- fiery, easy to provoke, but more dangerous to subdue. "You want to know me, Jin? Want to know why I don't smith?!" Rou nearly screamed at him, pressing an admonishing finger into his hard pectoral, though unbowed to her gesture for his strength. Her hair tossed with every poignant emphasis of her acerbic words, the rage intense and uncomfortably palpable as she jabbed at him. "So I don't DIE there, like they did. I am more than my family's name! I was so close to having everything." Her ambition shone through, the toil of all of her hard work to climb the social ladder was apparent, but bleeding through was the slightest inclination of something else-- fear. She had been afraid to die without achieving more. She'd been cast out, and now she was afraid of being alone. Her eyes began to sting, the threat of welling tears swallowed down by the compulsion to not appear weak. With a grunt and a lunge, Rou flung at Jin, capturing his neck in her arm, bending him down into a headlock. Gripping tightly, even as the crown of his head pushed into her chest, Rou held fast and growled at him. "I liked you better when you were flat on your back," she muttered bitterly, feeling the painful burn of shame. Her chest was heaving, panting from her own fury. She felt as if she'd had everything stolen from her, and she still tried to blame others for it-- Roen, Gabriela, Rafael, anyone but herself. What had she earned that wasn't now the Black Queen's? All Rou had left were the clothes on her back, her family name, and painful memories; she dreaded being back at square one. Smithing wasn't going to mend the hole in her heart, or get back the things she'd lost. She wrenched at Jin again to keep him in submission, casting a glare down to the tuft of his hair caught in the crook of her elbow. "You have no idea who I am."
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