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Narcissa

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About Narcissa

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  • Birthday 07/09/1989

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  1. [ Ravenspire ] Unexpected Reunions

    With only one eye, it seemed nearly twice as obvious when his gaze traveled downward, and her relief evaporated twice as quickly, narrowing eyes and lips with suspicion. Like a lash (sans her implicit whip, but with all the same flair), her wrist slung forward, delivering an abrupt and scolding snap mere centimeters from Tenkai's nose. If not for Kadia's barrier against magic, it might have even sparked. "Oi!" she collected his attention gruffly, and jabbed a finger accusingly into his chest, only half-joking when she sarcastically sneered back at him, "Don't make me take your other eye." She was used to being ogled by romantic partners, strangers, and enemies, the cut of her clothing on her body always purposefully risque, but the samurai hadn't quite fit into any of those categories. Internally, she accepted it as a fair brush of her ego. "We've all changed," Rou admitted solemnly, noticing the subtle silver sprouts in his hair, her expression finally bearing the weight of hardship that hadn't translated to the outside of her figure. She'd always figured she'd hit her prime in the fighting pits all those years ago, when she was athletic and muscular and ferocious; she seemed more plush, now, a blossomed beauty that had to invest more in her mind to play this cruel and catty game of chess, and was intimidating in an entirely different way. He was right, that all the familiar figures of his past were trying to navigate a deadly spider's web, where power and life hung in the balance... and the proverbial flies were spun up and slaughtered, mercilessly. Even now, Roen, Rou's closest ally, was her enemy, the cost of trying to play spider with spider. "This world is entirely different, where the strength of one man bends beneath the man with the biggest group of followers to exalt him." Her gaze found the floor, overwrought with frustration as her brow rumpled and her nails dug crescent lines in her palm from the fists balled at her sides, not sure whether she hadn't fled a hell for a worse one. "Sigil wasn’t much, but it was home to a lot of us. When The City of Doors was no more, we adapted. We had to." She was quiet for a long moment, before looking up at Tenkai with the same yellow eyes that had once looked across from him in the tournament ring. Even behind her yellow eyes, a subtle fire still yet smoldered from within, but haunted and stalked by the darkness of the shadows it created. "... I had to." And she'd done terrible, unspeakable things to get here. Her soul had been tainted with a dense, seeping, black malice, the products of betrayal, guilt, jealously, violence, and pain, nearly palpable even to those who didn't possess the sight. Rou shrugged and sighed with no little bit of melancholy, as she could not simply and entirely blame the monster bred on Valucre on the world, itself. "I have more to my name than I've ever owned in my life. A home, a title, a fortune, prestige. But I'll be damned if I sit on my laurels now; I've come too far." The bandit had achieved so much, but in the grand scheme of where she'd wanted to be, retrospect made it feel like a single drop in a bucket. Placing a tender hand on his shoulder, she squeezed gently, managing half a tilted grin as she was never too short of a chance for a clever quip. Some things, luckily, hadn't changed about the Buxom Bandit. "We can't all be pacifists for a living. I don't think I could work the wardrobe, honestly." Stealing a sidelong glance out of the corner of her eye, she'd noticed the Captain lurking too close for comfort, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. Tenkai, as opinionated as he was, wasn't in the wrong, but the last thing Rou wanted to do was jeopardize her position when she was not a day from departing. Hooking her arm around the samurai's in an intimate --though no more than cordial-- fashion for a titled lady, she eluded the Captain their conversation by bringing it to whispers, and gestured towards the gardens. "Walk with me, won't you?" She matched his stride, though hadn't often picked up her gaze from the cobblestones in front of her, navigating slowly and sightlessly. In all honesty it had been soothing to move, an effort that kept her from pacing heatedly back and forth when she'd arrive to the aggravating politic of it all. The fair breeze provided some respite to the tell-tale flush in her cheeks, but it was clear that Rou felt similarly in regards to Kadia's laws and customs. "Even my liege, Rafael, earned a great deal of resistance and discourtesy here in Kadia, and Umbra's supposed to be in alliance with them." Catching a short glance at Tenkai, she offered a single token, honest insight; talking to him was somehow cathartic and welcoming amidst the political and emotional masquerade she was used to. "It's kept up simply on Corvinus' will to be so... and it seems fragile, at that." She scratched nervously at her throat with her nails, flushing the skin, lips curling with a fair amount of internal guilt. It hadn't helped that she'd shot down Leoa's O'o, a magical bird given to her by a particular guest of their wedding... no one had seen it for the disguised metaphor that Rou saw it was. Rou had damaged her personal rapport with Corvinus, and whittled the alliance down to hairs. "I don't practice the faith, so I've been treated with every courtesy..." she said, as one of the few and probably only Umbrans who hadn't publically participated in the Carmine faith, "... 'when you see sausage being made', as the expression goes?" The law was a sour note struck, as evidenced by the rumpling of her lips and brow. "That's why I'm here; an unfortunate law that my own home, now, shares. Not even thirty, and he's trying to sell me off like some..." she visibly struggled with the comparison, not for lack of words, but for gross disgust, "... some prized breeding mare." Brooding made her snarl like a dragon, sneering off to the side to spare the samurai from her shade. She'd trusted Rafael, loved him, and the wound of being expected to move on and forget was a wound that cut too deeply-- she was starting to feel like she was covered in them. "I've half a mind to rebel and defy it altogether. No law and no man are worth ruining the one card I have to play." More suspiciously, she'd thought, if she were otherwise preoccupied with a husband, Rou's enmity and deadly pursuit of his wife might cease. He could only pray, to whatever gods a god had, because Rou's jealousy was a determined and violent beast. "Diplomacy doesn't exempt me from the law, but I've always fit well into the criminal moniker." Patting his arm in the hopes of venturing towards less controversial subjects in public, she thought it best to caution him. "I don't know what brought you here, monk, but I suggest you make your trip in Kadia a short one," Rou offered sternly, only staring at one of the nearby guards as long as she could without warranting unwanted attention, "Please promise me you're not going to get yourself into trouble. I may have had influence today, but that expires very soon." She sighed, in an obvious way that made her miss home. "It's a short trip from here to Umbra; you'll have to find me once I sail home, tomorrow. It would be nice to have a houseguest every once in awhile." After so long apart, the many questions she'd had all seemed lost, and struggled to put voice to one. In her silence, Rou couldn't help but stare at his eye patch out of the corner of her eye, as if sensing the damage behind it. "Does it hurt?" she asked quietly after many moments, swallowing hard as she imagined a phantom pain of her own.
  2. [ Ravenspire ] Unexpected Reunions

    "Those three chests, and there's two more over there," Rou pointed out to the stewards of Kadia's sovereign household, having played guest to the royal family for the last several weeks. "I want everything in order for our departure back to Umbra, tomorrow." After not a few fortnights spent in Kadia's court, the recent announcement by Emperor Corvinus to wed off his eldest son hadn't quite ended the way Umbra's pro tempore princess had anticipated-- he was to wed another woman, nullifying the chance to forge a Kadian-Umbral alliance in blood, as her liege had hoped. White-gloved attendants packed her things in the trunks she'd had sent with her growing, illustrious wardrobe, in need of layers and furs that she'd likely never wear again in Umbra's desirably warmer climate. All of her things were being packed onto a carriage bound for the harbor, awaiting a vessel that would bring her back to an empty home, and likely Rafael's wrath for not securing Deiter's hand. With a heart that still bled heavy from recent betrayals, even Deiter's infatuation with Umbra's An'She seemed no match for Corvinus' will and intuition, and found a more invested partner for his son. Walking slowly down the stone steps that descended the palatial, she pulled a fur stole tighter around her shoulders to ward off the chill, bearing a despondent sigh that rang with just a guilty twinge of relief. "And tell the Head Stewardess that I'll take my tea in the Garden Sanctuary, today; I want to pay my final respects." Rou bounded down the final few steps with a much more enthused spring in her gait, albeit out of character for one heading to a memorial... where she could aptly avoid all the gossip and chatter of Kadian court that would likely whisper behind her back, should she have participated. The gardens surrounding the Ravenspire palace weren't quite a hedge maze, but certainly required some navigation to find the Ellwood Memorial, tucked away behind shaped walls of ivy. The privacy and peace of mind were anticipated a blessing, so that she might prepare herself for another bout of this masquerade, and bury her heartbreak beneath cunning banter and a clever smirk. She was going home on the morrow, smile for her liege and his new bride... no matter how false, no matter how much it hurt. However, cursed as she was to never find solace, the gardens were bustling and buzzing, and would not provide the comfort she desired. The guards were surrounding someone in the terrace, and Rou was sure she was going to be ushered away, but through the pockets between bodies she made out a familiar guise-- a face from a world she'd left behind. While they'd never taken to labeling each other as friends, Rou was in short supply of old acquaintances that didn't despise her. Rushing as fast as heeled shoes and a swishing flurry of her red coat would take her, she intruded upon the guards' perimeter hunt. "Stand down, soldiers," Rou said in a voice more authoritative than Tenkai probably remembered of the former Buxom Bandit, "This man is a guest of the Carmine Empire and Umbra." Some of the Kadian knights looked as if she'd just spoiled their sport, but after being paid a stern glare from Umbra's An'She, they dispersed back to their posts to resume guard. It might not have been an order from their Emperor, but they knew better than to compromise the fragile alliance between Corvinus and Rafael. "Monk, what in seven hells are you doing here?" she hissed quietly between her teeth, but found her questioning too strong. "Not what, but how? I'd thought you were lost in Hard Times; the detective said you'd been poisoned by Nurgle's Rot... I wasn't aware there were survivors." The last she'd heard of the monk was from Edward Queensborough in their brief acquaintance, and all affected by the rot had been quarantined to ride out the devastation by themselves. Plenty of Gaians had immigrated to Valucre after Sigil had found its portals working again, all the way until the place was nearly desolate. She hadn't heard so much as a peep about the monk, but the peace-promoting samurai was always a quiet voice in the realm of huge, terrible egos. "You're going to have to hide the prayer beads," Rou insisted, her eyes still on the backs of the guards to make sure none of them were eavesdropping, "The only thing Kadians hate more than a heretic is a non-human." Finally assured that they were in the clear, her shoulders sunk with a relieved sigh, before assuming a tilted, wry smile. Valucre had changed Rou from the scrappy, untamed Bandit that she used to be, now a developed woman who was playing the vicious, subtle game of territories, yet that grin hadn't changed ever since she'd left the tournament circuit. Tenkai Matsumoto was nearly just as she remembered, but older, more sagely. He'd looked just the same as he'd used to, the essence of a samurai from his attire to his posture, even bearing that peaceful smile that made Rou feel strangely content, but was never admitted.
  3. Unbroken Seals

    Rou wore the more severe emotions on her sleeve, flagrant when it came to jealousy, passion, or rage. Her red lips curled with obvious disfavor, a token twitch only just hiding a silent snarl behind clenched teeth. Red was trying to navigate this masquerade of high-stakes aristocracy, practiced and poised like a bred debutante, but there was always one caveat to the gentry-- amateur was a reek that didn't wash off easily, and the upper crust were likewise bloodhounds for sniffing it out. The Scarlet Queen was a new piece in the game, newly painted and fresh on the board, but still retained the consequential stickiness of a fresh coat of lacquer. Red could walk and talk and delegate and politic as she like, but the only thing that would remove the mask of new nobility, of a pretentious pretender, was time. Tenderfoot and green behind the ears, a snub like that could've been a much greater mistake against a snob like Rou. The Buxom Bandit turned Umbral Princess had been at this game far too long. However, Ikora was issued a warning, and it was only fair that Red receive one, despite how thin it stretched her patience. "Little dragon snaps, doesn't she?" she sneered dryly at Red, amusement sucked barren out of a narrow gaze, "Watch yourself there, Red; I assume you like your goods cheap and your merchants unmolested... Would be a shame if that changed." Rou had already nearly quadrupled the size of the Umbral treasury in the year she'd spent in power within the Carmine regime, making progressive work taking over trade routes and monopolizing goods all over Genesaris and the seas from 'ere to Renovatio-- soon enough, even Terrenus would be piling coins straight into her pockets. Seeing the Umbral flag on the seas meant two choices-- prepare to pay a tariff, or find your goods at the bottom of the sea... and that was on a good day. It was true, Rou was wanted for egregious crimes in Patia, but not a single gold piece from the dragon-guarded hoarde was paid to erase the charred black, scorched wound she had left when Rou burned half the city down to ash. Wanted as she was, Red was right-- no one actually tried to collect the bounty on his behalf. Patia was neglected and decaying since the Devil abandoned it; romantic whimsy was a death sentence for a monarchy. "Would he like to hear it?" she chided, feigning and exaggerating interest, "If you're smarter than those before you, you'll see the one thing all of these empires have in common: justice is only ever what they deem it." With a shrug, she gestured for Red to approach the table. "You want to roll the dice? Be my guest." After allowing Red to begin her seance into the parallel realm, Rou paused as she neared the table, paying Ikora with a narrow-lipped frown. "I blame you," she scolded Ikora, unabashed, for encouraging Red's hard-nosed retorts. "Savor that last tongue-in-cheek, Commander," her voice icy with a grim rasp alternative to her usual seductive purr, "otherwise you'll find it hard to report to your Lord Imperator without a tongue." A single, snorted chuckle became a cloud of exhaled steam in the cold, as Rou rubbed shoulders with the Justicar, easing her posture into a more lithe and comfortable pose. Mirthfully she lolled her head onto Ikora's shoulder, despite any discomfort showed by the bearer of her deviant familiarity. "But, if I'm being completely honest, I'd much rather take hers." Resuming a dry grimace, her fingertips pressed against the table, as she followed Red into the seance. Rou remained much in the background of this shadow realm, simply a spectator to Rafael's needlessly tactile negotiations. Not daring more than a token scoff of disapproval, Rou was unusually silent, despite the obvious green head of jealousy that was rearing on her face. Claims of Red's beauty warranted an amused smile, entertained only by the imagination of Rou's palm filled with a fistful of that pretty blonde hair, and her nose bloodied against that table they just partook in a tête-à-tête across; her expression only sobered when Rafael cut her a particular gaze, and Rou found hers diverted to the floor. Cat was out of the bag, but there was little he could do about it, there. Crossing her arms over her chest, Rou made to pace sternly while Red managed her explanation; she was as curious as any.
  4. Unbroken Seals

    "Huhn," Rou chuckled in a single, dryly amused beat, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at the blonde queen. "Don't we all. If you want a meeting with the Emperor, you'll have to pry him from his wife's -- what's the phrase? Cold, dead fingers." The grin on her face was toothy, sarcastic, and ornery, complemented by a laugh that only she found humorous. What a turn of events, that led to Red and Rou on opposite sides of a meeting, again. Rou was suffering from an incidental case of déjà vu, finding Red with a letter in her hand, this time bound for Rafael. If the An'She hadn't had the pleasure of a close-up look the last time they crossed paths, Rou might've even thought that machined eye in her socket was real. But, even half-cyborg to replace dead and dying parts, it was somehow comforting to deal with a pompous Gaian than a pompous Valucrean-- though the Commander had made short work to remind her. At least this time, the letter had seemed to be by Red's own hand-- she still implicitly reeked of Roen's machinations, but Rou was probably the only other person in Valucre who knew how hard it was to try to come out from beneath the Devil's shadow. Shooting a narrow glare sidelong at Ikora, she wasn't above showing her obvious disfavor for the Justicar's barbs. While neither of their jurisdictions were responsible to the other, Rou found it personally offensive that her rank was not recognized-- even subdued, in what appeared to be an affirmation of her power. While she was not named, her intention was obvious, taking it upon herself to guilt the An'She like a delinquent schoolchild. Rou answered to the Emperor, and the Emperor, alone. "Watch your tone, Commander," Rou snarled, in an unusual brevity, "You speak too familiar of our liege." Heels crunching in the snow, she walked a few paces closer to Red, so that she might confide her advice in hushed tones. "You hand that letter over to the Justicars, and it'll be weeks before it reaches the Emperor. If it's bad news, longer," she said, though the explanation was not uncommon-- the same happened in most courts. "They'll let the rumors spin out of control-- by that time even if you're innocent, they won't believe you. Your reputation's already in hot water, as it is. Let me carry your letter... and don't talk to the Emperor unless you've got nothing to hide." It almost seemed like Rou was giving genuine advice to a comrade-in-arms, though Red likely knew Rou never gave something for nothing. "If I help you chart your way out of this disaster, you owe me."
  5. Unbroken Seals

    "I wasn't aware that a Justicar had been deployed," came a timely voice from an alley side-street, behind the telltale silks and armor whose sigil placed its loyalties more obviously than neon. The snow had turned to sleet in the alleys, crunching beneath boots that tread from within long-stretched shadows, the sun seeming to slumber in the East's cold season. Yellow eyes were borne from the shadows, hooded and thickly lined, above the semblance of an intrigued and surprised grin. She'd kept her dress coat closed, trussed with furs, but even that couldn't spare the cold flushing the cheeks and knuckles of caramel-toned skin; light snowfall speckled her hair and clothes like sugar, until it melted into nothing. She might have worn the barbed emblem of Umbra upon her back, but it was here that Gaian laid eye upon fellow Gaian. A few moments had passed for Ikora to realize that she was in the presence of a superior rank, the An'She taking precedence of representing the Empire, even though many questioned how she came to such high esteem-- though it was hardly their place to question the hierarchy as set by the Emperor Sauriel, himself. "Stand down, Commander," Rou ordered gently, affirming her intention to lead the rendezvous between the two noble parties. "And make sure to address her as 'Her Grace'..." she reminded the Knight-Commander as her head swiveled to Red, her tone of her voice walking the fine line between pompous and patronizing, "I heard she's a Queen, now." In direct defiance of her last moment's advice, Rou sauntered forward with a slither in her step, a noticeable swivel to her hips. "Heard you found yourself in some trouble, Red. Word travels fast," she prattled smugly, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against a wooden column. In a minor distraction, Rou caught the sight of a knife wedged into another nearby beam, a wanted poster with a familiar face emblazoned upon the page. Tearing it from its bearing, she considered its contents-- wanted by the Kingdom of Patia, alive, with a substantial reward. Rou couldn't help but chuckle amusedly, however, as the depiction drawn was like looking at a stranger. It had her name, true, but Rou no longer looked like the scrappy bandit scrawled there, no doubt by the Devil's own hand. "You let him post his nonsense here?" she asked, turning the sheet around to Red, so she could observe. Side-by-side, Rou looked older, now, everything from her clothes, to her makeup, to her hair was fully immersed in the exotic, exalted as the Emperor's coveted Desert Flower. The girl drawn on the poster was a memory, all but forgotten. Staring straight ahead at Red, Rou casually crumpled the thing in her hands, allowing gravity to deposit it in a puddle, to turn to soggy mush. Determined to get to business, or perhaps otherwise amused to discover Red's purpose, she proceeded to get to the root of the issue. "I broke house arrest to be here; this had better be good." After the whole fiasco at sea, and departing Kadia without a match as desired by her liege, but the Emperor's necessity to indulge in his immature wife's fantasies kept him from reach to exact discipline on the woman he'd appointed as a Princess of Umbra. However, Rou's particular animosity towards the beloved Queen of Orisia made her especially disobedient-- while Red and Rou had come from the same world, they'd never counted each other 'friends', but when Red's summons requested her presence, Rou practically jumped at the chance to defy orders. Perhaps the new Queen thought their similarities might help in smoothing over her predicament with the Empire, make Rou an advocate for this woman. @Red the Ambivalent @King
  6. The Untamed Spirit

    "What do you mean, house arrest?!" Rou's shout rang out over the hustle and bustle of the docks of Port Caelum, attention momentarily drawn away from the fishmongers, sailors, and shiphands with a simultaneous turn of heads. With fists balled at her side and a petulant stomp of her foot, Rou's body language was a testament to her current displeasure with the graying Naval Commander Fowler, a grizzled and wrinkled man who appeared to be doing his best not to be shot as the messenger. Rou's expression twisted with a rainbow of appall and outrage, yellow eyes turned beady and nearly swarming like wasps. "If he thinks he can keep me here, like some kind of caged bird-- the gall of it!" she spluttered. Rou's protests were absent threat, whether that was ignorance in her anger, or deliberate caution so as not to curse the Emperor, no one would know. Fowler raised his seaworn hands in front of his chest, yielding in half-surrender. "Aye, Princess. The entire dock's under orders not to see you leave the Empire, by word of his Majesty, himself," he said apologetically, but persistent in his position. "They may like you, but there's no Naval Officer I know willing to risk his neck for treason; you've caused quite a ruckus already." As An'She and appointed Princess of Umbra by the Emperor, Rou outranked the Commander, though he spoke to her cordially, as if a father figure. "You'd best return home." "So he knows I'll be right where he left me," Rou snarled back in a sharp quip, without any discipline to prevent her from projecting her anger on the silver-haired sea Commander. When last the An'She of Umbra had ventured out, she came back to nothing but bad news-- Rafael had married the Queen of Orisia, her sworn enemy, and Rou had fallen out of favor with the Emperor. She'd charted a naval vessel into a storm and lost half the crew, all to gain a little closure from the Devil... she supposed there were worse punishments for treason. And to make matters worse, Rou returned home from Kadia sans a marriage proposal-- if anything, Rafael's mood undoubtedly soured. So he'd ordered his ward to penance, until he found himself free from between his bride's legs long enough to scold her properly. Rou's brow rumpled, at a loss. With a deep heaving breath, she implored to the Commander. "Come on, Fowler; I can't just sit here. Do me this favor," she pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. He shrugged away, determined not to bend from her dulcet supplications. "I cannae help you; ye've made your bed on this one," he refused her, though it obviously pained him to do so, so weary it seemed to sprout another dozen gray hairs on his leathery, liver-spotted scalp. "I'm on lien to this crew, they haven't yet recovered men enough to replenish the ranks lost off the coast of Renovatio. I'm under orders." Fowler could hardly bear to witness her dejection, and placed a weathered hand consolingly on her shoulder. "The men who survived are indebted to ye for getting them out of th' storm... but ye can't ask them to defy their Emperor nor their god. Don't condemn them right after ye saved their hides. So, please; go home." He hooked a finger under her chin in a fatherly gesture to chin-up, managed a weary smile, and then retreated back to the ship. Rou hadn't protested as he left, finding truth in his words. Still petulant and hot-blooded with ire, she heaved in a huffy sigh, and crossed her arms under her chest. Rou was her own woman, and Emperor's orders or no, she wasn't going to sit at home until he felt like coming home to punish her, himself. As the sea breeze passed her cheeks and billowed her cape and through her hair, she was determined to leave. Everything in the Arcane East reminded her of him, reminded her of pain, and wasn't going to subject herself to it. Once a clever bandit, she was certain the lavish life hadn't deprived her of her resourcefulness. The Umbral Navy might not have been able to help her, but there were plenty of other free ships captains left to charm her way aboard. "Now, where in seven hells am I going to get a ship?"
  7. Caesura

    Artistry and symphony in black and gold feathers flitted throughout the hedges and lattices of the Kadian courtyard gardens, sparkling like a mirror when vanes refracted rays of sunlight, and disappeared, devoid when it escaped to the shade. The cooling breeze was navigated by the fowl expertly with tilts and turns of its majestic wingspan, simply gliding as it searched the garden for the thousandth time over. Grnk-grnk-grnk-grnk. A small winch was reeled, string taut. The O'o had crooned its song for days outside the palace, in the only nature and greenery it knew, however immediate. It had the puffed, triangular chest of a rooster, that when it belted its sorrowful tune, ruffled all the feathers that lay above vibrating lungs. The gift had been for the queen, but all the palace residents had been audience to its song after it had been let free. Click. The shaft was aligned, feathers not nearly as grand as the O'o's darted in place. If it could howl as the wolf, it would bay. If it could shed tears, an ocean would amass in the Kadian gardens. One didn't need to know the tittering, chirping language of birds to identify the lovesickness in its tone, the wail of a widow and a bereft and shattered heart. Its tune was as profound as any instrument, conveying feeling that struck likeness-- in some more than others. Raise. Hilt was buried against shoulder. It searched, too afraid to leave the gardens, should its consort arrive once it made leave. It did not eat, did not sleep, did not spend a single waking moment where it did not cry for its lover, endless pining the only strength it drew from to go on. The bird was a symbol of hope... though it wasn't it's fault that it was hopeful for the wrong reason. Exhale. Eye aligned behind sight. The O'o took its sweep, low in the gardens, a great animal of beauty that held its note through descent, just past the Devil's occupation. Fire. The sky rained droplets of blood, casting minor splatter across the Devil's person and into the dirt. Not far from his feet, the O'o had found its descent taken him aground, with a bolt pierced straight through its neck. It visibly suffocated, before it could breathe no longer, choking on its tune with a single sour note before sweet silence reigned. Upon the veranda, Kadian visitor's quarters closest to where the Devil had chosen to peruse the sight of his allusive gift, Rou Ji lowered a crossbow from her shoulder. She hadn't worn the expression of a prideful hunter, nor the look of relief from one bothered by the beast, but inherited its heartbreak, tainted by anger. Without taking her eyes off her kill, she aggressively shoved the crossbow into Deiter's hands, who'd accompanied her onto the veranda. "That's what we do with broken things; we get rid of them." Casting a sharp, sidelong glance to the prince, Rou turned on heel to return into her quarters, her purpose accomplished. "Tell her majesty that I'll compensate her for the bird. I doubt she'll miss it." It wasn't for her, anyway.
  8. Dice Rolling Thread

    Roll 1 for the King's Feast. Inaho versus Ripper.
  9. The King's Feast [SS0]

    Inaho made no efforts to feign enjoyment, descript in the indelicate frown that soured her expression and the listless decline of the fox ears nested upon the crown of her head. "I am unfamiliar with this commemoration," the fox demon pointed out in a bitter tone, though of foreign breed and recent alien intrusion, it was to be expected. The echoed announcement of the tournament's origin fell deaf upon her pointed ears, spouting off names she didn't know and battles she'd never heard of, Inaho had already made up her mind that the event her master wished to partake in was nothing less than frivolous. "Humans seem to find any excuse to appreciate themselves; how vain," she commented behind Ashe as she followed his pursuit, with notably less enthusiasm. Withdrawing a paper fan from the folds of her seabream-blue kimono draped about her shoulders, it slid open with a command of her wrist as she fluttered it in front of her chest. Peering around with yellow eyes and agitating a braided bun of long blonde hair and matching tail, she was obviously out of her element, in this avant garde city with its tall sculpted buildings and its shiny chrome streets. "There are no trees here; hardly any cover," Inaho persisted in her argument, favoring the forests that Ashe normally traversed once she'd come under his debt, unfamiliar with the need for urban metropolis when yokai had done perfectly well for thousands of years in simple nature. Obviously, she didn't like change. "And the whole place stinks of dragonfolk," she added sharply, her nose wrinkling at the unpleasant stench; Inaho flapped her fan harder. With Ashe drawing her attention to the prey and making a quick quip about the beasts' civility, the fox demon hardly found it in good taste. "Leave it to humans to cage a beast just to let it out and capture it again. What's the point in hunting something that has already been hunted?" Peering over his shoulder, she sneered at his choice of targets-- tentacle beasts-- especially foul creatures, particularly to the rather repulsive tendencies they had when the beasts preyed upon those of the female gender. "Indeed, best to corral them into the street. It's slick; the suckers will stick to the ground and make it more difficult for them to move." She summoned blue foxfire to her open, talon-nailed hand, flickering in the air above her palm; it was best that they be dealt with quickly-- in some cases, tentacle beasts were just as deadly as hydra. With a poignant look at Ashe, she gestured forward. "By your lead, Master Purlieus." Post: 1 Prep: 1 @King
  10. Narcissa AFV

    Hey guys, I know my posting schedule is already pretty slow, but I'm probably not going to be on for about a week or so. Halloween's my favorite holiday, and I'm really looking forward to being able to celebrate it with people at work this year, but the costume I custom-ordered to my size didn't fit, so now I have to scramble to make the item myself. Since I expect this will be eating up all of my free time, I won't be posting until after Halloween and I've had some time to relax. Just FYI, thanks!
  11. I legit almost killed Roen with strawberries. True story.
  12. There's no more Talk 2 Carlos now that I actually have a funny conversation to post. Me: I killed you last night, by accident. Ty: Oh? Me: I bought Sims 4 because it was on sale. For some reason, I made me and you. Ty: Some reason? We know the reason. But why did you kill me? ;-; Me: I tested out the "hysterical" cheat and I told you a dirty joke that made you laugh so hard that you died. Ty: LOOL Me: It even gave me the option to seduce the Grim Reaper into sparing you. It did NOT work. Ty: Damn. Well, that's unfortunate. At least it was a funny joke. Me: Sexy enough for you, but apparently not enough for Death. And here's the kicker I made your Sim propose to mine about 30 seconds before you died. My Sim had never been so happy and so sad at the same time. Ty: Aw. Poor girl. My condolences. I trust they spent a night together, at least once. Me: Pffft. Once, he says. We woo-hooed and then I boo-hooed.
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