• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy Cradle of Desire: In Character

Bippity boppity booo
Cyrus︱Arum

There was no need for Ematille’s silent but pointed reminder for Cyrus to conduct himself more properly. One look at Mrs. Aspen’s surprised expression was enough for him to kick himself for behaving so rudely to someone who didn’t deserve it, not to mention how warmly she welcomed them into her home.

Cyrus tried to fix his face into a smile, but the woman wasn’t making it easy for him. The unexpected mention of his “father” made his eye twitch as he was once again reminded who he was on this mission with. If only Ematille hadn’t invited him to this dumb mission…!

For a moment, Cyrus couldn’t find his voice to respond to Mrs. Aspen. Even if he did, he wouldn’t know what explanation to offer about the other three’s presence. But before the silence could stretch, Nemesis smoothly interjected with an appropriate answer.

Cyrus sent Nemesis a wide-eyed, grateful look. He’d have to get Nemesis a gift later on just on account of him being the least offensive person in the room right now!

As Mrs. Aspen went on with her explanation, Cyrus’s eyes flickered to Nemesis every once in a while, almost like a puppy out on a walk occasionally looking up at their handler to make sure they were still around. After all, the only other people in this room were a stranger, his mortal enemy, and his scary superior. As fellow members of the first faction, Nemesis was the only one Cyrus could really count on right now!

Finally, Cyrus refocused on Mrs. Aspen and asked, ”What did those two men look like? Maybe we can keep an eye out.”
Code by Nano
 
Cradle of Desire
Scene 001
Group 4: A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight Cresion Breezes Cresion Breezes Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian nios nios Dovinique Dovinique

Too preoccupied by their argument to notice the footsteps gradually shuffling in their direction, the children failed to detect the presence of the new group of “scary adults” until Leif spoke up. One of the girls—the pacifist of the group—jumped up and shrieked. The moment the tips of her worn down shoes touched back down onto the earth, she skittered behind her two friends like a scared little mouse. As if the display had triggered some manner of protective instincts, one stood up straighter and pulled the frightened child behind her, while the other whipped around with his fists held up and ready to throw a punch.

Fortunately for the young boy who was unaware that he was dealing with an ex-noble who certainly wouldn’t entertain a tiny fist coming her way, Lou merely took one cautious step back when Yen snapped her fingers in front of his face. Affronted and concerned but certainly not frightened by her words, he slowly lowered his hands and pursed his lips. The child by his side, however, wasn’t nearly as content in staying quiet as her friend.

The moment Yenoia shouted the word “children” with dramatic flair, Chloé put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “You can scare Esme and Lou, but everyone knows you adults like saying those things to scare kids into not doing stuff you don’t want us to do. And why would the old lady eat us when you’re here? You’re bigger than me! She should eat you instead.”

Irregardless of Akseli backing up Yenoia’s words in a far more gentle manner, going as far as to lower himself to the childrens’ eye level, the chittering from the children would yet cease. If anything, his mentions of disrespecting graves would only stoke their indignance.

“If we can’t be here, then why are you here?” Lou asked with a disgruntled expression. “My Ma said people like you are called hip…hip…uh.”

“Hippo crates,” Chloé said with another eyeroll, this time aimed at Lou.

“Yeah, a hippo crate,” Lou said while proudly tilting his head up, “but ok we’ll go if you tell us where we can find this Finn.”

This time, Chloé fixed a nasty glare on Lou and began scolding him harshly about taking bribes from “evil adults”. Once again, the two children began fighting verbally, though the third child who’d remained silent this entire time finally crept out of their shadow and looked up at Zenith curiously.

“All. Ow. Ants?” Esme said slowly, “What is that? I can get candy with it? And is there really a door here?”

“See? I told you there’s a door!” Lou interjected while in the midst of pulling one of Chloé’s pigtails. In turn, the taller girl was pushing against his face with her hand. She lifted up a foot and gave him a good kick and spat out the words, “It’s a wall with rocks, stupid.”

Esme ignored the fighting that continued beside her and hopped up and down thrice. “Umm! Umm! There were these tall adults. Taller than you,” she said while staring at Zenith and stretching her right hand up as high as she could. “Two of them had swords that are pointier than the sticks Lou and Chloé like swinging around, and um. One of them hit the wall while we were hiding in the bushes. I think her sword had a silver owl with a crown… It was pretty. I like owls, but I don’t like swords…”

Had anyone chosen to inspect the wall more closely while the children were distracted or as Esme continued to ramble on about owls and birds, they would notice that the more irregular and shallow chips on the wall indeed resembled damage caused by a sharp blade. Fortunately, whoever had been inspecting and hitting at the wall wasn’t aware of the door’s mechanisms, as the necessary parts for opening and closing the labyrinth’s gate were left mostly undamaged aside from one stone that had become dislodged and jammed it. Most of the damage had been sustained by the lock’s ability to resonate with the gems of rebirth, resulting in the doorway not recognizing Arcana’s keys.
Code by Nano
 
looking for schrodinger's image
Leif Sterna | Magpie
Throughout Amelia’s(?) and Rattler’s best attempts to distract the children, Leif saw it fit to just smile and nod along with whatever they were saying. In case he accidentally said anything incriminating, Leif was fine with just letting everyone else do the talking while he did the tinkering once the children were distracted or (preferably) gone.

But all precautions seemed to have been for nothing. Because one of the members of the group seemed to have thrown all reason out the window. Said person went from diligently writing and drawing in a book to suddenly revealing to the children that there was a secret door in the wall before anyone could stop them.

Smile frozen on his face, he whipped his head away from the wall to stare at the other half of their group incredulously.

‘Is this a test??? …Maybe they’re drunk?’

Just as the usual easygoing smile started to slide off his face like the cold sweat that was sliding down his back, Pawn offered him a solution in the form of a piece of hard…was that hard tack? With uncharacteristic panic (or crisis management?), the Magpie quickly studied the half-eaten and assumed hard tack to make sure it wouldn’t actually be a choking hazard.

"Okay. Yes, the structure of it looks good enough. Let’s trade,"
he nodded with a satisfied smile. The Third Faction member quickly fished out a piece of medicinal but sweet candy that Flora had given him the other day before tossing it at Pawn. Leif then hurriedly reached over and did what he thought was the best solution.

He did his best to shove the assumed hard tack into their resident blabbermouth’s…well, mouth.

Dusting off his hands after the attempt, he ignored the others with a strained smile at the children.
"Sorry to break it to you, kids, but there is no door. It’s clearly a wall. My friend here is a liiiiittle drunk. Too much drinking you know? Even seeing doors when we were told to fix a damaged wall. Drunk adults are such a bad problem, that the lady you saw swinging her sword around was probably also drunk. Even nobles do stupid stuff when they’re drunk. Hahaha…"


Though Magpie felt like he was starting to ramble, the thought of the kids needing their memories wiped by Anemona over their own team member’s mistake was more nauseating,
"Sorry to disappoint you guys but we were told by our bosses to repair the wall because if it gets too damaged and weak from the vandalism it could fall and hurt someone like…uh…like a weak house after a fire!"


The young man gestured at the wall,
"See how one of the stones of the wall is already dislodged? That’s dangerous so our job is to fix it. Sorry, but you really should go so no one dies from a dislodged rock or something similar."


"In apology…"
he trailed off as he dug around in his clothes and bag for possibly more medicinal candy before placing one in each kid’s hands. Magpie was pretty sure that there were no side effects from the medicinal candy.
"Here’s some candy. It has a little tang from citrus and mint but it’s mostly sweet."


‘Hopefully, we don’t have to get Anemona involved…’
 
Dorian Alfieri | Ematille

Leaning forward further, Dorian reached out and clasped the older woman's hands in his own. Gently, reassuringly, he squeezed them and offered her a pained smile. Inwardly, he wretched at the foul sensation. It was if great, ropey worms burrowed into the skin of his palms and worked their way up his arms, excruciatingly slowly. Truly agonizing. He regretted not wearing gloves for the visit.

"I'm sorry to hear about your daughter. No one deserves to suffer like this, much less your family." Dorian continued to grasp her hands in his own firmly. "If the town watch won't help, we'll have to take matters into our own hands. Did you notice anything else odd about Roth's behavior in recent times? If these... 'shady characters' are involved then perhaps there are more clues to your husband's disappearance we could use." He cocked his head and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "I can't imagine he could entirely vanish without leaving a single trace. We must find something."

The sickening act was frankly a bit of a bore by now. How many times had he played the comforting shoulder, the listening ear, the supportive friend? It was invariably the same motions, like a troupe of actors prance across a stage performing the same lines every night for a week. Sure, there may have been a display of skill in the repetition, but there was nothing to be gained after a point. It was a shame that this was his most profitable play in his repertoire.

It was unlikely the woman had much information as to her husband's betrayal. It was clear enough by now she knew nothing of his involvement in Arcana -- though Nemesis could confirm that himself -- and he'd not hidden any secrets with her. Similarly, Dorian doubted she would know all too much about his actions prior to his disappearance. A woman as desperate as she would've pursued any threads she could grasp onto, vanishing as they were. If nothing else, he could admit Roth was good at keeping his secrets.

Suppressing a yawn, Dorian maintained his supportive expression. If she had nothing else useful to present after this round of questions, he'd signal to Anemona. Let her feast on the poor woman's mind. The sooner he was out of this utter dump, the better.

Interactions: Group 1

Mentions:

Location:
The Aspen Home

 

Seated near the window, Andrius' gaze drifted from the scene before him to the world outside. Yet, he could feel Cyrus’ eyes intermittently glancing his way. It was almost a palpable sensation, like a gentle caress against the skin of his cheek.

Perhaps the redhead was cautious, watching for any subtle reaction from his vice leader—a raised eyebrow, a clearing of the throat, a tapping finger. Any signal that might indicate if he had spoken out of line. And while the knight appreciated his comrade's vigilance, he remained still and silent, offering no such cues.

His duty here was not to talk, but to listen, to observe.

Needless to say, if the encounter took an unsavoury turn, he was prepared to interject. Though, he doubted his verbal input would be necessary as they were accompanied by the silver-tongued leader of the Second Faction. In a spurious attempt to sympathize, Dorian clasped Mrs. Aspen’s hand between his own, uttering sweet nothings in a voice drenched with false sincerity. It was almost enough to make Andrius retch.

The serpent’s tongue was masterfully deceptive, but to the blue-eyed swordsman, it was an affront. It always was. The latter rose to his feet and quietly wandered over to the window. He gazed outside, keeping an eye out for any prying eyes.

As he stood there, with his back turned to the room, the conversation continued, and the questioning began. His eyes began to glow softly, and his mind sharpened, listening.


Icon_Andrius.png
NEMESIS
 
Yenoia Abillene | Amethyst

Yen glanced at Rattler, a playful twinkle in her eyes, as he supported her words with a logical warmth. She was impressed once again, this time by how good he was with kids. They were a handful in her eyes, more likely to be teased than tolerated. Rattler's gentle demeanor with the children reminded her of Delyx. He had always been the more mature of the two, a natural with kids, knowing just how to manage the chaotic energy of those little feet and fussy mouth. Yen found herself gazing at Rattler for a bit too long, almost lost in a memory of Delyx. Realizing this, she quickly shook her head and stood up, putting up her defenses just like she always did. She wouldn’t let herself fall into that emotional trap, again.

When the brave young girl suggested that Yen should be the one eaten instead, Yen laughed—not mockingly, though it might have sounded that way, "Right, right..." she said, pinching her bare left arm and smirking, "Of course, she’ll eat me instead. My meat is indeed high-grade quality, a rare premium. You’ve got good eyes, kid."

She felt a twinge of worry when Defrayer mentioned the door, but thankfully Magpie’s quick thinking masked the near-slip in front of the children. The children might blurt out the information, out of innocence, but still could endanger the Arcana and prompt Owen to send Anemona to handle the situation. Maybe he wasn’t that bad… What caught her attention most, though, was the mention of a silver owl by Esme—a well-known family crest she struggled to place.

As the conversation continued around her, Yen tapped her chin, deep in thought. "Owl... owl... owl... ah!" she exclaimed softly, a smile of triumph spreading across her face as the memory clicked. She looked around at her group, unsure who to relay the information to first. She couldn’t just mention "Balfour" in front of the children. In moments like these, she wished Ematille were here—not in a "I miss you" way, but more in a "I trust you than others a little bit more" way. So she waited, arms crossed, stepping back from the scene. She hoped Magpie's candy would disperse the children since Rattler's offer didn't seem to interest them enough, or if anyone else would have better way. It would be easier to discuss the matter without those children around.

Interaction: Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian (Rattler), Nano Nano (Chloe)
Mention: Defrayer, Magpie, Ematille
 
Akseli Arbeit — Rattler

His gloved fingers tapped on his knee as the children reacted to their propositions. One like that of a warrior, already bringing his clenched fists to bear. Another stood defiantly, tiny hands pressed on her hips, head turned up, eyes brimming with ardent resistance. A font of bravery down two rivers. For a moment, the Engine'er remembered spring's sun, its gentle eminence and warmth over the dirt and flagstone streets of their kingdom. He remembered the unfettered childish exuberance that resounded, their glee echoed sharply off the walls of their homes. He remembered how the filth got on their simple clothes, how the dust clung to their soft skin, how they teased each other with razor wit. Rattler looked away, a second bitterly short, as though a salve was being applied to the wound riven across his soul. He took a slow, measured breath. The dry, dead air of the cemetery seemed potent, suffused with life's vitalising energy. He looked to the children, their chatter inadvertently an endearing display, nodding along to their words.

"Hypocrites." Akseli corrected, deliberate articulation to allow the children a chance to properly memorise the word. "You've keen wits about you, and you listen to your parents. That's great." Akseli continued. "If you need to find Finn's, find the crowned monument of her Majesty, when you're in front of her, go left until you see a tavern on the corner of the street. Look up, one of the doors should have a piece of wood with a chain-dangling sign." Akseli outstretched his arm to the side, pinching the folds of his green cloak and swaying his arm gently to imitate the carved board. "It'll say 'Finn's Master Carpentry,' knock once then let yourselves in, if I'm not in the front then the old grouch will be there or one of his other apprentices, say I sent you, then cover your ears as he screams for my attention." Hands briefly clapped his ears, not wanting to let the little ones hear even one-tenth of his master's vulgar, vocal proclivities. "My name is Akseli." He recognised the enormity of risk he undertook. However unlikely, he had enwrapped these three children in the web of Arcana's fate, one that he hopes will never come to haunt them.

And then Défrayer spoke. Akseli paused. His head craned up and back, features cleaved with a dispassionate smile, gazing up at the slightly bent form of the 2nd Faction's preeminent treasurer. His slate-grey eyes suddenly smouldered, moonfire crystallised in the pale ocean. A mere veneer masking the irritation nesting round his core like vines smothering an oak. His heart's tattoo skipped a chord in the rhythm of its song. Akseli wondered whether he had heard him right, perhaps his overtired state had finally caught up to him? Was Défrayer sedated? Beguiled by the delirious allure of a narcotic surging viciously through their blood? His hand went up, rubbing away the annoyance from his features. At least the diatribe brought some benefit to them, the mentioning of a family's crest is worthy of an investigation later.

It was Magpie's efforts who silenced the accountant's incessant prater. Akseli realised that he'll have to thank Leif later for it.

The Engine'er stood up slowly, moving away slightly while his eyes still lingered on the children. He picked up his kitbag, undoing the binding to access his instruments, the wish for their FoE fresh on his lips. Then he half-turned. He saw Pawn approach them. And his heart sank in black waters. Head tilted, the crescents of exhaustion beneath his eyes darkened, he could feel his veins pump and throb beneath his skin, muscles tight. He wondered if Yen would have a remedy for the stress on his heart.


Interactions: Nano Nano (Children);
Mentions: nios nios (Em/Pawn), Dovinique Dovinique (Amethyst/Yenoia), A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight (Magpie/Leif), Cresion Breezes Cresion Breezes (Défrayer/Zenith)
 
Last edited:
Cradle of Desire
Scene 001
Group 1: OldTurtle OldTurtle Dawnsx Dawnsx Zariel Zariel

Cyrus’s question was met with a look of apprehension, not because of a lack of trust but a clear reluctance in allowing the redhead to get involved. Before she could open her mouth to tell the young man not to worry too much about her husband’s matters, a pair of cold, pale hands would land upon hers and give them a reassuring squeeze. The woman looked up at the face smiling at her gently with a level of sympathy she hadn’t received from any others she’d consulted, and she gradually allowed her reluctance to slip away with nary a trace.

“You’re very kind, but you boys keep yourselves safe, alright?” Mrs. Aspen pulled one hand away from Dorian’s grasp and gave his hands two light pats. “I…” she trailed off before straightening herself back up in her chair. “I did spot one of the men by chance. Maybe my mind was being desperate and saw the wrong man, but I followed him until he disappeared into the backstreets in the eastern part of the city. I wanted to follow him…but I was stopped by an acquaintance. Everyone knows that part of the city is where all the shady folk skulk around for their underhanded deals. I’m desperate to find him, but if something happens to me, who’ll take care of our little Anna?” A small bead of sweat trickled down her temple as her hands shook. “I can’t be sure it was them, but I fear Roth disappeared while trying to get his hands on some strange medicine-”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Anemona, who’d remained silent throughout the entire exchange, gently placed her half-eaten apple down on the table and interrupted Mrs. Aspen, “Andy here is quite smart and strong. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind doing a quick search.”

Completely ignoring whether or not Ematille chose to move out of the way for her, The Six of Cups made her way to where the distraught mother was seated and gently stroked her hair. Before Mrs. Aspen could react to the unusual gesture from the young girl, she cupped her hands around the woman’s face and directed her gaze into pewter grey eyes.

“It must have been hard for you to keep all this to yourself,” Anemona said, as if she truly pitied the misfortunes that had befallen the woman whose only sin was her bond of marriage to a man embroiled in underground dealings. A small thumb rubbed at the woman’s cheek, but she didn’t respond, as if hypnotized. Even when a strange sigil upon the platinum blonde’s left hand began to faintly glow, her eyes remained transfixed within Anemona's own.

“I wish I could take away all of your pain and suffering, but The World sternly told me to only erase Roth’s disappearance and that we’ve been here. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

In a few moments, Mrs. Aspen’s body went slack, and Anemona carefully propped her up against the nearby wall. Then, the young girl closed her eyes and lifted up a brush whose tip constantly shifted through myriad colors. As she moved her brush through the air, each stroke added another shape and color, until she eventually produced an image drawn upon a solid canvas fifteen minutes later.

“Yes, I think it turned out quite well,” Anemona caught the painting and nodded, pleased. When she turned to the Second Faction’s leader, she held up her work for the man to take and inspect. “I thought you’d prefer a picture over words.”

The canvas depicted a strange mixture of abstract shapes and colors all warped around a focal point of three figures. One stood in the middle, a strange caricature of what could only be assumed to be a Roth who had his back turned to the primary perspective of the painting. The other two were drawn as if the two men had been sealed within paint, the realistic quality of their traits emphasized by their juxtaposition to the odd style of the rest of the painting.

One man wore a hat low upon his face, obscuring much of his features. His arm, however, had a long scar running down the side of his right forearm, and from the looks of it, he was rather stocky and hovered a full head taller than the other two. On the other hand, his partner had done little to hide his appearance when Mrs. Aspen had been spying on the two. Wavy, black hair was tied back with a red silk ribbon, and a tuft of white hair was left parted to the side of his face. Dark blue eyes sneered at Roth behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and it was apparent from his well-dressed appearance that he was rather well-off. Certainly, he didn’t appear to be one who’d acquaint himself with a lower middle-class family without reason.
Code by Nano
 

SONG GRACIE

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten of Swords FOXGLOVE
Song had barely recovered from the previous mission before being assigned to another. One such as to gather intel. She didn't know successful she would be, one slip of the tongue could expose her and could put her in a dangerous situation. Needless to say, the stress of knowing that had made her tense. Thankfully, her assigned partner in this would be able to assist.

At least, that was what Song had initially thought.

To go undercover as newlyweds, searching for a celebratory wedding gift.

The guilt she had suppressed before had resurfaced. Knowing that she was once again betraying Rem. Yet, she wouldn't let herself waver now. For the sake of Arcana, she'd use her own resources to aid in their goals. Even if she had to use Rem, and what he had left her.

"I have a ring," when she'd mentioned it first, she'd been directed to the third faction. To have one wasn't quite enough to complete the cover story. Presenting to Spinel her very own wedding ring, he'd made quick work to create a matching second. They were just about prepared to head out for the mission.

But when she met up Samadhi, the man spoke quite vaguely. About their cover story, that is. Even if Song had tried to pry further to get more out of the man, he seemed to brush her off. To be unable to coherently put together a cover story for the mission, only made her stress about it all the more.

There was a sliver of information that Samadhi had so kindly graced her with, however. They were Emily and Idei Suzuki. The rest of the story was withheld. The only instruction; follow his lead.

It didn't help. Before they'd even reached the entrance to the shop, Song's heartbeat was beginning to race. She looked up at the taller man beside her, her emotions twisting into her stress but her slight irritation at the man's smug grin.

She had no choice but to rely on him. So, when they were greeted once they'd entered, Song opted for silently nodding her head in a form of greeting. Despite how uncomfortable she actually was with the act, she'd carefully looped her arm into Samadhi's when they'd walked through the door. If there were going to pretend to be newlyweds, they should at least act like it.

Well, trying to imagine Samadhi was a certain someone else was mostly helping her through this.

Location: Hat Shop ll Mentions: Reno (pre-mission) ll Interactions: Arakan


[ SONG GRACIE ]

Song had barely recovered from the previous mission before being assigned to another. One such as to gather intel. She didn't know successful she would be, one slip of the tongue could expose her and could put her in a dangerous situation. Needless to say, the stress of knowing that had made her tense. Thankfully, her assigned partner in this would be able to assist.

At least, that was what Song had initially thought.

To go undercover as newlyweds, searching for a celebratory wedding gift.

The guilt she had suppressed before had resurfaced. Knowing that she was once again betraying Rem. Yet, she wouldn't let herself waver now. For the sake of Arcana, she'd use her own resources to aid in their goals. Even if she had to use Rem, and what he had left her.

"I have a ring," when she'd mentioned it first, she'd been directed to the third faction. To have one wasn't quite enough to complete the cover story. Presenting to Spinel her very own wedding ring, he'd made quick work to create a matching second. They were just about prepared to head out for the mission.

But when she met up Samadhi, the man spoke quite vaguely. About their cover story, that is. Even if Song had tried to pry further to get more out of the man, he seemed to brush her off. To be unable to coherently put together a cover story for the mission, only made her stress about it all the more.

There was a sliver of information that Samadhi had so kindly graced her with, however. They were Emily and Idei Suzuki. The rest of the story was withheld. The only instruction; follow his lead.

It didn't help. Before they'd even reached the entrance to the shop, Song's heartbeat was beginning to race. She looked up at the taller man beside her, her emotions twisting into her stress but her slight irritation at the man's smug grin.

She had no choice but to rely on him. So, when they were greeted once they'd entered, Song opted for silently nodding her head in a form of greeting. Despite how uncomfortable she actually was with the act, she'd carefully looped her arm into Samadhi's when they'd walked through the door. If there were going to pretend to be newlyweds, they should at least act like it.

Well, trying to imagine Samadhi was a certain someone else was mostly helping her through this.

Location: Hat Shop ll Mentions: Reno (pre-misison) l Interactions: Arakan​
 
Last edited:
Scene 001
Pawn
Emersyn Illiro
Through lazed blinks, the black haired woman observed the Third Faction member. She shifted through her foggy memories for moments shared between her and the man. There were very few for her to confidently rely on except for a chance encounter of observing him tinker in his lab where sparks flew and smoke cradled his silhouette. Otherwise, the man who referred himself as "Magpie" was none other than a mystery to Emersyn — as was the other three attempting to coax information out of three children. One of which spilled something intriguing — something almost taboo... Akseli, hmm?

Although mildly intrigued, she reeled herself to remain unfazed, but another one of the three appeared to have lost a screw or two as well as they pointed in the direction Emersyn and Leif were situated. Excited and entertained coalesced by what could unfold from this. Anemona may yet have another plaything or two... The grip on the cracker tightened as a way to redirect the tingling crept beneath her skin, but a swift hand snatched it from her grasp and the presence before her darted in Zenith's direction in a frenzy.

Emersyn audibly gasped as Leif lodged her snack into Defrayer's mouth. A fist pressed between her teeth to withhold her chortle. Despite the consequences they all may face upon return (or not if they all mutually agreed to withhold what transpired here from their report), Emersyn found this spectacle before her enjoyable. But alas, Emersyn was tired, wished to finish this task and bathe in something other than grime and sweat. She reached into one of the sacks near her and rummaged until she found what she was looking for — a bottle of spirits. It must've been Amethyst's for sterilizing wounds? Emersyn glanced back at the four ahead. "How many adults does it take to deal with three children," she wondered as she uncorked the bottle and doused her clothes with half of its contents.

She sighed and shook her head as she realized what she was about to do. Just pretend to be a drunk. What harm could one more act do, was what Emersyn harmlessly thought until her foot got caught with one of the sacks and sent her chin to smack against the ground — her tongue getting bit in the process. Emersyn hissed from the impact. A pained groan welled within her throat and her eyes dampened.

Regardless, the woman started to crawl across the ground in the direction of the children with one limb creeping after the other in an uncanny fashion. Slowly, she picked herself up from the ground and approached the group with a deliberately slow gait as if she was about to pounce at them any moment. Her crow-nested hair casted over her face and gave little away of her next move. Meanwhile, a hand gripped a half-empty bottle and she spoke in a low and slurred voice. "Chil...dren. Hung...ryy!"

✦ ✦ ✦​
#interaction: @Group04
#location: Broken Labyrinth Door
#tags: it takes five to tango
Code by Nano
 
A Family Affair
Arakan︱Samadhi

Arakan is smiling in his usual, easy-going way... Though his appearance is radically different from when Song had ever seen him before. Gone are the long robes, the long hair done in his country's traditional fashion now tied up into a tight bun. The muscular man smarts a lovely blue suit, a jaunty hat in the country's style on his head. He hooks arm in arm with Song gracefully, all grins, looking for all the world like a dandy, rich foreigner- Which was exactly the image that he'd intended to give.

He'd planned to have Spinel make a new set of wedding rings, but Song provided her own... And so, now, a very nearly identical copy sits upon his ring finger. Arakan leaned in towards Song as they walk towards the shop, whispering, his warm breath tickling her ear.

"You're not all that much of an actor, are you, Foxglove? So it's all the better for you to be flustered- than for you to have to try to act the part. Noone pays much attention to the blushing, vapid bride."

He has the gall to give her a wink, as Arakan opens the door to the hat shop. The ringing of the shopkeeper's door bell announces the entry of Idei and Emily Suzuki- a newlywed couple. Arakan takes a look around within the shop, his eyes sweeping the interior for anyone they could talk to, a cashier, perhaps... And any entrances towards deeper inside. If they were lucky, they could get all they needed by asking around.

But missions had a tendency to go strangely shaped, anyways.

Code by Nano
 
Cradle of Desire
Scene 001
Group 2: Aukanai Aukanai ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe

Before the young lady greeting the customers at the storefront could inquire about their needs, “Idei Suzuki” would swiftly take the reins of the conversation. The stoic man sitting behind the workbench in the back didn’t pay the newcomers any mind, busying himself with his own work the moment he saw that his apprentice had everything handled. When addressed, all he did was answer with a grunt, to which the hatmaker’s apprentice apologized and explained that he wasn’t much of a talker.

Unlike her mentor, the young lady was far more amicable and open to entertaining whatever topics Idei brought up. However, the man wouldn’t be able to glean much from their conversation aside from the fact that Roth had taken a few things from the store a few days ago. Oddly enough, the apprentice claimed that she’d last seen him on the day following Death’s arrest and not prior.

As Samadhi kept the shopkeep distracted, his “wife” who was carefully inspecting the hats came across a small strip of bleached cloth that had slipped underneath one of the cabinets. It was inconspicuous, barely peeking out of its hiding place, but if pulled and inspected more closely, scrawls of ink could be made out.

The rest of their trip remained uneventful.


Group 3: Bloody_Death Bloody_Death fluticasone fluticasone lucenti lucenti

Never judge a book by its cover. Spinel had learned that the hard way during his encounters with Ematille, yet the redhead would find himself falling for the same tricks all over again in Arcana’s second encounter with the man named Cyril. Fortunately, the 1st Faction’s leader would helpfully provide the context that the blonde cheerfully chatting with the angry cat lady was none other than the same man they’d met in the dungeon the night prior.

Though his pupils briefly shook at the revelation, Spinel quickly regained his composure and ordered for Death to have Io fetch whoever was available that specialized in either stealth or remote observation. It was unfortunate that they would likely have to secretly take the gem of rebirth away another time given Cyril’s clear interest in the object, but at least they’d managed to find a separate potential lead.

It was simply a matter of whether or not the Arcana members present could delay the man until whoever Io sent arrived in the vicinity.


Group 4: Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian Dovinique Dovinique nios nios A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight Cresion Breezes Cresion Breezes

Though Chloé mumbled something along the lines of not accepting candy from strangers, the three children were ultimately pacified by the candies placed into their hands and Akseli’s offer of extra goodies if they were to go on their way and allow the adults to do their work. Lou still eyed Magpie with suspicion, but he was ultimately pushed away by Esme who seemed desperate to remove themselves from the vicinity of the graveyard now that the skies were growing darker.

Before the three made their departure, Magpie’s pensive expression suddenly brightened up, as if he’d remembered something important. It was a simple question, one asking if the silver owl had unusually long legs, to which the little girl thought hard for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding her head.

Despite the brief interruption from Magpie, the trio of children ran away in fright the moment Pawn appeared from the rear, clothes wet and hair hanging loosely over a ghoulish expression. At long last, Arcana had been left to fix the broken door in peace, though it was still wise to keep any eye out for the adults mentioned in the childrens’ recounts potentially returning to vandalize the door once more.
Code by Nano
 
looking for schrodinger's image
Leif Sterna | Magpie
The children squabbled a little more amongst themselves before (thankfully) ultimately settling on leaving the graveyard due to the darkening skies. The little boy, Lou, definitely made Leif sweat a little with how skeptically the kid was looking at him but thankfully he was also convinced to leave with the rest.

However, a sudden thought came to mind just as the children were about to leave. To be sure, he had to call out to the children to ask one more thing before the small trio left.

"Hey, by the way…that silver owl on the drunk lady’s sword…did it happen to have these creepy long legs? Almost as if it shouldn’t belong on an owl."


And pretty ugly if you asked him. Almost made him appreciate the Sterna family crest.

The little girl named Esme seemed to think long and hard about it for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding, confirming his guess. But before Leif could think of any other questions, Pawn appeared from the rear, clothes wet and hair hanging loosely over a ghoulish expression and shambled after the frightened children as if she was truly drunk. The light haired man stared blankly at Pawn for a few seconds before just brushing off her peculiar behavior with a carefree smile.

He wasn’t going to question it too hard. At least the children left safely without any further incidents.

"Well then. That was unnecessarily eventful. But at least we got some idea what happened over here,"
Leif quietly said in a casual and cheerful tone. Spinning on his heels, he followed the Rattler back to his kitbag and the damaged portion of the wall and the hidden door.
"Wouldn’t have expected members of the Balfour family to actually be doing the dirty work but it seems like a lot of people are behaving strangely lately. Maybe she actually had too much to drink."


Finally able to relax and fix their broken door in peace, Leif opened his own kitbag before starting to assess the damage more closely. While the perpetrator didn’t manage to get the door open, he still let out a low whistle when he finally got a good look at their damage.

"Or she has some serious anger management issues!"
He quipped with an amused laugh as he trailed his hand against the chips in the wall.

"But it seems like it will be a relatively easy fix. We should probably also hide the superficial damage to avoid more suspicion. Right Rattler?"
 
Last edited:
Cradle of Desire
Scene 002
In their attempts at scraping for clues, Roth’s current status would remain unclear. Where had he gone, and was he still alive? Whoever had been responsible for whatever deal he’d made with the Arvas had hidden him well, or perhaps they’d done away with and buried him already. It wasn’t uncommon for the nobility to take advantage of desperate commoners only to turn their backs on honeyed promises, after all. The question was, if it wasn’t the Arvas, who was it?

As fate would have it, the answer would practically deliver itself upon Arcana’s doorstep. Some, however, were quick to voice their misgivings. The information matched together too perfectly. From a noble or a representative wearing the Balfour family crest proudly as she partook in suspicious acts to Cyril’s appearance and subsequent meeting with the man depicted in Anemona’s painting, the way everything fell neatly into place felt all too convenient, as if someone had laid out the pieces for the organization to find. Something was amiss.

It was already suspicious enough that a Ducal house would partake in dealings with small fish such as Roth and the Arvas.

Others argued that no noble family would be insane enough to lay down an elaborate trap at the expense of permanently ruining their reputation by exposing their participation in the trafficking of individuals with mana corrosion, experimentation on monsters, and other unsavory practices. To them, this was an opportunity to trigger a surge of criticism towards the nobility at the very least, while ideally they could finally remove a noble family that had long been a thorn in their side.

The nobility had already heard of the true fall of the Arvas. If they didn’t strike now, it was unknown whether the Balfours would mobilize a tighter defense or do nothing either due to foolishly believing they’d covered their tracks or simply looking down upon the abilities of the perpetrators. In addition, the current circumstances provided ideal conditions: that pesky commander of the militia was away at the frontlines, and the eldest and most competent child of the family was off in another fief. Though not much was known about the youngest daughter, the Duchess was nothing more than a vain woman who passively sat upon her gilded throne while the Duke was a narcissistic coward who hid behind his family name and what authority it gave him.

In the end, the dissenters would be outvoted, and The World would finally call for the first significant movement since Raeger’s fall at Milene. Regardless of whether or not they found Roth, that night would be the day the Duke breathed his last. Whatever the Balfours were planning on doing with mana corrosion and monsters, they couldn’t afford to allow it to fester.

A smaller group had been sent off ahead to locate the eldest child of the Balfours, both to track his movements as well as strike if they found an opportune chance. Others scouted out the Balfour manor ahead of time. Soon, it became the night of the raid.

One group was personally led through a secret entrance by the head maid of the manor, greeted stiffly but nonetheless welcomed as a result of the organization’s trickery. That is, one of them interacted with the maid while the others quietly shuffled up from behind, crammed together within the radius of a small lamp cloaking them in magic making them invisible to the naked eye. Though their presence would be revealed if they made a noise or happened to be spotted through a reflection, the maid had yet to notice she was being followed by more than the guest her master was expecting. None of the guards they passed by had taken note of anything amiss either, merely standing stock still as the maid and the guest passed through the halls.

A second group of Arcana members had been tasked with stealing armor to infiltrate and cause a disturbance when the signal was given. They hid along the patrol route, biding their time until a group of four knights appeared. One knight walked along the path a few meters ahead of the others and was clearly the most vigilant of the bunch. The two sandwiched in the middle lightly chatted with each other, while the last lagged behind, head drooping in clear exhaustion as the heels of their shoes dragged along the floor.
Code by Nano
 
Last edited:
Bippity boppity booo
Cyrus︱Arum

Ematille could yell at Cyrus all they wanted later. Or sneer or side-eye or whatever it was that someone as classy-looking as Ematille did. Maybe Nemesis would beat him to it or tell Auri to yell at him instead. But at that moment, Cyrus couldn’t care less.

As Anemona gracefully moved to carry out her duty, Cyrus stood with a clatter of his chair and marched out the door without looking back. He shut the door behind him, then leaned back against the wall.

Cyrus wished that he acted a bit more selfishly back then and asked Daemon to stay, but he had thought that would’ve been childish, and that he had to prove to Daemon that he was all grown up and could handle being in Arcana by himself.

If only.

He crossed his arms and looked down at the ground, willing away the sting in his eyes and the wobble of his lips.

Well, so much for being all grown up.

~~~

By the time their next mission rolled around, Cyrus felt normal again. Well, as normal as he could be when Arcana was about to assassinate Duke Balfour.

As planned, Cyrus approached the agreed upon meeting place – a secret entrance to the Duke’s manor. Seemed like rich people liked having hidden passages built in their homes. It was the same with his birth parents apparently.

Upon spotting the head maid, Cyrus plastered on his most charming smile and strode up to her with a confident gait. The woman looked at him with suspicion for the briefest second before her mind was eased by Cyrus’s stigma.

“Hello, madam! I’m here to see the Duke.”

“It’s been too long since we last met–”

“Meeting the Duke is always secondary to seeing your lovely face–”

“If only we could see each other whenever our hearts desired–”


However the head maid responded to Cyrus’s frivolous comments, Cyrus would keep an adoring grin on his face as he walked alongside her. Internally, he reminded himself not to glance back to check on his invisible comrades. The fact that he couldn’t see them was a source of unease that he forced himself to push through.

Once they entered the manor proper, Cyrus wisely shut his mouth and followed the maid silently. Better to not draw the guards’ attention to himself. After monotonously walking through the halls for a while – Cyrus realized belatedly that he probably should have been keeping track of the turns that they made – he jumped when a door opened.

Cyrus looked halfway over his shoulder before snapping his head back, instead focusing on the head maid to gauge her reaction to whoever had opened the door.
Code by Nano
 
Spinel
reno salvatore
location
Balfour Manor: Hallway
interactions
Cyrus Dawnsx Dawnsx
mentions
Group One
With each successive operation, Reno grew more certain that Arcana’s mixed reputation was more than deserved. They had quite the number of sympathizers, but their secretive nature combined with a bloody track record kept most of the public on their toes. Throughout his years in Arcana, he would’ve thought he’d get used to the the torture and culling of corrupt nobles and the organization’s enemies, but each summons from The World never failed to make his stomach churn and his mouth dry up. The only difference this time was that Spinel, who normally took on a passive stance, had been one of the first to voice his support for the assassination of the Duke.

He stared glumly into the crackling fire of the hearth. Things seldom went as expected, but he held onto the slightest of hope that there would be no complications.

No, he really hoped there would be no complications.

Spinel’s grip on the lamp tightened, and he breathed in as deeply as he could without making noise. Cramped as they were in the small circle of invisibility provided by the relic in his hands, the lack of personal space surprisingly wasn’t the biggest issue at hand. He held back a groan. If only Daemon hadn’t made those stupid little coverups and poor explanations during Arum’s developmental years, perhaps he wouldn’t be forced to pray to whoever was still listening that the maid wouldn’t be set off by any of his flirtatious words.

The maid in question initially fixed Arum an odd look, but she soon shrugged off his “habit” as if she had long grown used to his odd manner of speech.
“As a friend, I advise you to say less in front of Sir Balfour. Despite the rumors saying otherwise, only the Young Master would tolerate such jests in his house. I prefer you with your head safely attached to your body. Anyway, come along. We shan’t be late.”


Having spotted a guard staring curiously at the odd pair, the maid fixed her a stern glare and continued on her way. However, a door would suddenly open, triggering not only Arum but also Spinel to come to a sudden halt. Fearful that the person directly in front of him would accidentally step outside of the radius of the relic, the redhead quickly grabbed at the back of their clothing to root them to their spot. In his haste, the hand holding onto the lamp shook, producing a small squeak from the metal ring grinding against the attached lamp.

Shit,
he swore, completely forgetting that his stigma was still active. The good news was that it appeared that the sudden appearance of a timid-looking young lady with long red hair closer to the color of rust and eyes of a muddy gold had distracted the maid enough to miss the noise. The bad news was that the maid had stopped to speak with her.

“Miss Cozette?”
the maid said, her voice tapering upwards to phrase her words as a question.
“What wakes you at such odd hours?”


“I… I heard a um s-strange noise,”
she said in a volume hardly above a whisper. When she took notice of the red-haired man beside the maid, she retreated slightly behind the opened door.
“Wh-who?”


“He’s a guest,”
she answered curtly before shaking her head.
“I can’t say more. You know how Sir Balfour hates when Miss Cozette inquires about his business.”


Cozette’s hand that had been sitting upon the doorknob fell down by her side.
“F-father’s guest?”


The maid nodded.

For a few moments, the young lady hung her head and remained silent. She took in a deep breath and exhaled, as if resolving herself for something. Then, she slowly took a few steps out from the doorway, walking in a way that ensured whoever was in the hallway would only be able to see half of her profile.

“Miss Coz-”
the maid, noting her lady’s odd behavior, attempted to speak only for her words to be brutally cut short by a sword pushed deep into her abdomen.

With a strange amount of finesse for one who appeared so dainty and cowardly, the young lady kicked at the maid and pulled out her sword, leaving the latter to fall to the ground with a wet thump. Cozette’s shoulders heaved as she breathed heavily, but she nonetheless shakily turned the point of her trembling sword towards the only other occupant in the halls she could see: Arum.

“I kn-know what you’ve been d-doing! Y-you c-can’t! I won’t stand for it anymore!”


When she lifted up her sword, the right sleeve of her dress slipped halfway down to her elbow, revealing rather nasty bruising on the outside of her forearm.
code by Nano Nano
 
Cradle of Desire
Scene 002
With Arum’s coaxing, Cozette slowly albeit hesitantly lowered her sword. The guarded look on her face was far from gone, but she no longer looked like a cornered badger ready to pounce on her enemy. Far from calm yet as amenable to conversation as a mad stutterer could be, the young woman took a moment to listen to the mysterious redhead’s questions before shaking her head and gripping the front of her dress with her free hand.
“Sh-sh-sh shouldn’t you know what h-h-he’s doing? Or are are are you lying?”


Cozette’s eyes wildly wandered about, seemingly looking everywhere except at Arum’s face. Suddenly, she turned her gaze down the hallway with a jerk, and then she shoved the redhead into her room.
“Hide,”
she hissed, dropping the bloodied sword in her hand onto the floor of her room and carefully shutting the door.

Then, she fell onto the floor and let out a shrill scream.

Several pairs of armored boots noisily clanked against the stone floors as they hurried to the scene of the crime. However, rather than admit that she was the perpetrator, Cozette made a show of being frightened out of her mind and screamed and thrashed when one of the guards attempted to grab her arm to help her up.

“Stay away!”
she yelled with her eyes tightly shut and her arms held up defensively above her head.

“Miss Cozette, please calm down.”
The man released his grip on her arm and backed away. While quietly motioning for one of the other two guards to inspect the unconscious and dying maid, he knelt upon the floor before the frightened noble.
“The assassin is gone. You’re safe, but did you see where they went?”


Cracking open an eye, Cozette stared at the guard’s metal helmet for a brief second before ducking her head down. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. With her body still wracked in harsh tremors, she shakily raised her right hand and pointed down the hallway.

What the young woman didn’t know was her attempt to divert the attention of the guards would send the three running in the direction of the invisible Arcana members. If someone didn’t block the fastest of the guards, she’d run straight into the person at the forefront and fall straight into the bubble of invisible people, disrupting their formation and knocking many of the Arcana members present out of the circle of invisibility.
Code by Nano
 
Akseli Arbeit — Rattler

Through Rattler's and Magpie's combined efforts, the repairs to Arcana's dimension-shifting entrance were concluded swiftly. The Engine'er twisted, looking up as Leif spoke, silver tool in hand. "Yes, strangely." Akseli said, glancing over his shoulder at Pawn, her harrowing histrionics freshly seared in his mind. He sighed, the mewling wind underscoring his disappointment. As Akseli mended a deep groove in the door's surface, the Engine'er glanced up to Leif. "Agreed. As for their involvement, I doubt this was coincidental." He added, uncertain of the extent the Balfour family interfered with their operations. None of the implications boded well for their continued operation, he suspects that measures will be taken to heighten their security.

As it were, the task had been the locus of his focus, tending to the restoration without further delay. And the promise of tranquil rest in the accommodations of his laboratory at Arcana's headquarters, where none would disturb him as he laid in the hard bed beneath the soft embrace of his sheets.

The Engine'er leaned back from his work, gloved knuckle thumping gently against the repaired wall and door. A spectre of a smile stretched across his lips, emitting a soft warmth, satisfied with the result. Akseli rose, rolling his head, ache streaking from one end to another. His hand went up, working the side of his temple, trying to alleviate the irritated pain in his head. "That had been needlessly eventful." His voice murmuring as he slung his kitbag over his shoulder. He followed the rest, then a chill crossed down his spine and his fists clenched. He turned back to the hidden passage, he swore he felt the harsh glare of prying eyes on them.

He dismissed the sensation, reaffirming that he needed to ask Amethyst for an answer to his frayed senses.

———————————————​

Hidden beneath the obfuscating shroud of the lantern's mechanism, Akseli found himself forced to suppress his discomfort as the group made their way through the high halls of the mansion. Hand clenched, bound with a bloodied bandage beneath his glove, the painful sear refusing to fade. He had coalesced the ghostly spy, the slate eye went ahead of them, spinning as it observed the half-lit hallways, lined with guards — visible to none, by Akseli's wishes. His voice, low even now, issued in their shared union facilitated by Spinel's efforts. It took a supreme effort for the Engine'er to marshal his thoughts now, binding them in the shackles of discipline. His mind had been hounded incessantly since the news of their assignment, the weight of a life taken had not been the only thing straining his nerves; the nightmares of these houses, bedecked in noble splendour, had been a constant these restless nights. Always haunted by suits of baroque plate, the gleam of a silver blade lashing out, the stillness that chained his limbs. He'd awaken with a start, body slick with cold, permeating sweat. But, he had to steel himself, inure himself against the frailties his emotions imposed upon him. Akseli swore he would not fail his allies again.

Then his body went rigid, grey eyes glaring through the cloak, as the blade plunged through the maid's body, her blood a thin gossamer of crimson droplets in the stale manor air. He felt the impulse to act cross his limbs like an inferno ripping apart an ancient, dried forest. He recalled an old prayer his father recited, running through the words to restrain the unfettered instinct surging through his body.

In a brief second, the stuttering noble woman shoved Arum within her quarters, discarding the weapon inside as well, slamming the door shut with a crash. Then came the armoured footfalls, thump hard against the flagstone floor.

The spectral eye watched from above, nestled in the grooves of the wooden ceiling. It turned upon the lead guard, glaring down like the pale disc of silver in the night sky. It materialised, abandoning its unseen shade, glowing slightly in the soft darkness. Soon, and for only a moment, her legs would be snatched by a force, something frigid weaving its way into her very being. Her forward momentum would send her down, unable to correct her sudden misstep.

He readied his greatsword, its ashen magnificence prepared to unleash a debilitating blow against their foes, should Akseli's group decide to strike at the trio of sentries. Or, perhaps, evade them and allow them to raise their klaxon calls.


Interactions: A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight (Leif/Magie), Nano Nano (Lead Guard);
Mentions: nios nios (Emersyn/Pawn), Dovinique Dovinique (Yenoia/Amethyst);
 
Last edited:

The night air was cold and crisp.

Arms crossed, Andrius leaned against a wall beneath the stone bridge, waiting patiently. He was not alone on this mission, accompanied by several other personalities, some more tolerated than welcomed. On the face of it, their task was simple—espionage and interference. At least this time, he was fortunate enough to savour Foxglove's company. She was a rare exception among the Arcana members, someone the cold and aloof knight found himself at ease with. Perhaps, her presence alone was even enough to temper his usual disdain for the others.

Although he couldn't seem to shake the faint feeling of irritation clawing at him, stirred by the smugness of a certain member of the Third Faction, who was a constant thorn in his side. The bitter taste in Andrius’ mouth only grew sharper after he’d heard tell of their little escapade pretending to be newlyweds on a sleuthing mission. The thought of Samadhi playing that role with Foxglove made his jaw tighten.

But Andrius put his personal grievances aside when heard the sound of approaching footsteps and inaudible idle chatter. They had a job to do, and tonight, he had no room for distraction.

"That's our cue," he whispered.

As planned, Andrius counted a small group of four knights strolling along their patrol route, blissfully unaware of the ambush awaiting them. All they had to do now was wait for the right moment.

"I'll go over the plan one last time," Andrius announced to the others. "By the looks of that laggard, they aren't expecting us, meaning we have the element of surprise on our side. I will initiate the attack by sneaking behind the knights, and strike when they least expect it. Do not blow your cover until I have drawn their attention, and confirmed there isn't anyone else around, who might attempt to stop me before I can reach them. Once a fight breaks out, that is when the rest of you will jump in to assist me. Samadhi and myself should be able to deal with most of them."

His eyes flicked to Sierra.

"Lady Dahlia, try your luck with the slacker. I'm inclined to believe he will turn tail and flee his friends, should he succumb to his gut instinct." he nodded knowingly. "When his back is turned, that will be your oppurtunity to take him out."

Then he addressed Emersyn. "Pawn, you will remain hidden here, for the time being. Should the mission go awry, you must escape, unseen, and report back to Spinel immediately of our failure." While he didn't explicitly mention it, Andrius intentionally decided to leave the apprehensive Pawn all on her own. She was bound to feel fearful, alone in the dark of night, on such a dangerous mission, serving as the perfect lookout, should they receive any unwelcome company.

Finally, the knight turned to Song. "Foxglove, save your strength. You need not waste your powers on this fodder. I can handle this..." he said, in a gentler tone. "Here, take this... Just in case..." he handed her a rapier, a lightweight sword suitable for her delicate constitution. It was a precautionary tool for her to defend herself with if somehow the knights managed to get past the First Faction's vice leader and Samadhi. "Use it well... I know you've been practising," his lips cracked into a subtle, proud smile.


▶️ ???

Soon enough, when the knights had trudged far enough along, it was time for Andrius to make his move.

"We need to make this quick so we can regroup with the others."

With haste, he melted into the shadows, his dark outfit making him nearly impossible to spot in the distance, against the night. The sapphire-eyed man looped around to flank the knights from behind, his footfalls barely more than a whisper on the rustling blades of grass in the breeze. Once he was in range, the knight unsheathed his blade with a metallic hiss, rushing forth.

"Huh? What was that sou-" The weary knight lagging behind turned his head back to the sound, eyes wide with alarm, only to find himself being roughly shoved to the wayside, stumbling onto his knees.

The two guards in the middle barely had time to react before Andrius was upon them, deflecting the stray strikes while slipping between them like water. His eyes were locked on to his target, focused on the guard at the front. Andrius skidded across the dirt-ridden path, ducking beneath another clumsy swing aimed at his head, and with a swift bound, he leapt into the air. His cloak fluttered like dark wings as he brought his blade down from above with an aerial strike, aimed at the leading guard.


Icon_Andrius.png
NEMESIS
 
Scene 002
Sierra Daiji
Dahlia

It was not more than a week since her last mission and she could feel a headache developing. Due to the nature of her role, it was rare for Dahlia to work in a group. She was closer to a con artist than a thief or warrior, but the risk of being seen with these unknown figures would generate more gossip than she could deal with.

"I saw Sierra Daiji secretly meeting with the Balfours~"

"Oh, is she having an affair?"

"I always knew she was a gold digger."


No, at best the rumors would be regarded as a servant stirring the pot; however, nobles were always looking for a scandal. Should word of her activities travel back to her husband, their divorce could tear Daiji family apart. Kuro would recover of course (as all men did), but she'd become a carcass for the vultures of high society to feast upon.

Sierra Daiji was for the people. Dahlia was for the Arcana.

It was for that reason that she choose the second mission despite having never worked with any of its members. For being from the same faction, Dahlia knew very little about Pawn aside from being a bit...slow. Their interactions consisted mostly of wordless stares and sparse greetings. Similarly, Foxglove was not a notable figure if only because of how recently she joined Arcana. Though Dahlia made it a goal to learn everyone's code names that hadn't extended to their backgrounds. Nemesis--Andrius was the only member she knew of outside the organization. Years ago whispers of a missing guardsman traveled through the city. Between his tenure in the First Faction and unrivaled swordsmanship, it wasn't difficult to put two and two together.

From the edge of her vision, she spotted several knights patrolling the area to varying degrees of enthusiasm. While one knight spearheaded the group, two others chatted amongst each and the last dragged their feet along--an easy mark if she ever saw one. Nemesis seemed to agree as he recounted his plan--a true testament to his past as a Royal Guardsman.

"My only suggestion is to be the ready on the off chance he is more loyal to the Balfours than we think." Her fingers brushed over the dagger hanging from her artifact, wondering whether she should have grabbed something deadlier. She wanted to believe that the rest of the team would intervene if the guard overpowered her; however, trust was another matter entirely.

Once Nemesis leaped into action, Dahlia ran towards the stumbling knight. Before he could keel over, she grabbed his shoulders.

"Who-"

"Shh don't worry about me," she whispered, stroking his cheek, "follow your desires. Make your dreams come true."

The once wear knight jumped to his feet, his eyes full of righteous fury. He jabbed a finger towards his leader, seemingly unaware of the beating his brethren were receiving. "I'm sick of you three always making fun of me. I work every night just to get lambasted for not doing enough. Did you know my hair started falling out? I'm only twenty-three years old! Twenty-three! He screamed as the moonlight glinted across his forehead. "You tell the Duke I quit! I QUIT!" He flung his helmet aside and stomped away, tears streaming down his face.
Code by Nano
 
Last edited:
Yenoia Abillene | Amethyst

At last… the moment had arrived...

Yen would witness the downfall of the Duke of Balfour, one of those nobles that once swayed the fate of Delyx. His influence, whether direct or indirect, no longer mattered, the end of his power was near. A smile had graced her lips from the moment she awoke, not the pleasant smile of a carefree morning, but one contorted by twisted anticipation. Her thoughts filled with visions of vengeance, imagining the Duke's agony, savoring the thought of his blood warming her hands, which had long since lost their innocence.

Yen was, in truth, surprised when World granted her request to join the first group. She had fully expected him to go against her, to keep her at a distance out of fear that her emotions would cloud her judgment, endangering the mission. A single impulsive act could blow everything. Yet, to her astonishment, he allowed it. Perhaps World pitied her tale of lost love and gave her this chance for retribution. Or perhaps it was simply because all the faction leaders were in the first group, ready to control the flames of her wrath before threatening to consume them all.

When the moment finally arrived for the mission, Yen was the first to reach the assembly point, her presence sharp and poised like never before. Gone were the impractical heels of the past and in their place, she now wore sturdy leather boots. She would even eagerly take her place at the forefront within the circle, literally embracing the phrase "ladies first".

The odd mix of the group, with her current faction leader and former one standing by her side, barely registered in her mind. The presence of Spinel, her old commander, might have once stirred uneasy questions, did he resent her for choosing to follow Ematille instead? But today, such questions were mere whispers, drowned out by the single, all-consuming purpose that occupied her heart and soul… the downfall of the Duke.

Once Arum completed his charade and ushered inside, Yen trailed behind him, moving cautiously within the confines of the invisibility circle. Yet her attention wasn’t on her steps or the rhythm of her movements. Her mind was on high alert under the weight of Spinel’s stigma. The sensation of being mentally stripped bare haunted her, a constant fear that her darkest secrets might slip through her defenses. Her concentration was so wholly consumed by this that she didn’t notice when Arum came to an abrupt stop.

She nearly stepped out of the protective circle, but a swift tug on her clothing from Spinel yanked her back just in time. He wasn’t gentle, mind you… some of her hair was painfully pulled in the process, prompting her to mouth a silent "Ow" as she shot him a withering glare over her shoulder. She was irritated, yes, but begrudgingly grateful for his intervention.

Then, from the shadows of the room ahead, a familiar figure emerged, she was Cozette. The sight of her brought a rush of old, simmering disdain. The timid girl was as she remembered, fragile and faint, a delicate flower wilting in the shadow of her father. Something about Cozette always stirred a primal urge in Yen, an itch in her hands to push the girl to the ground… or perhaps off a cliff. She found Cozette’s frailty infuriating, a weakness that had no place in the world of nobility. The mere thought that Cozette bore the noble crest of Balfour was an affront. Had Yen ever actually acted on those violent impulses? She couldn’t remember, but the feeling lingered, sharper now, knowing the Balfours had played their part in the scheme that had brought them all to this moment.

“Miss Coz—”

What unfolded next defied every expectation. Who could have predicted that a timid one like Cozette would suddenly raise her hand and drive a blade into someone’s stomach, executing a performance so dramatic it would rival the finest of theater productions? She and Arum would make a remarkable pair on the stage, their talents for deception and drama was undeniably amazing.

But there was no time for amusement as Cozette directed the guard's attention toward their concealed group. Yen’s heart wildly race, her instincts screaming that collision was inevitable. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for impact, knowing all too well that quick reflexes had never been her strong suit. Whatever was to come, she would simply have to endure it. One second passed… then another, but instead of pain, there was only the sound of a heavy thud.

Curiosity pried her eyes open, and she saw one of the guards on the floor. A wave of relief washed over her. Her gaze then shifted to Rattler, who stood ready with his greatsword. They would likely have to brace themselves for a fight soon, but Yen’s mind wandered briefly to another thought, Ah… so, he could fight also... Every encounter with Rattler always revealed another layer of capability, another thing to admire.

After the whole scene, Yen quickly scanned within the circle, searching for Ematille. Upon finding him, she sent a message with her mind, questioning whether she should save the maid or not. It would undoubtedly be a challenge, with the maid teetering on the very edge of death, but who could say? Perhaps there was something in her worth saving.

Interaction: OldTurtle OldTurtle (Ematille)
Mention: Arum, Spinel, Rattler
 
Last edited:

SONG GRACIE

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten of Swords FOXGLOVE
It was beginning to seem that she had a routine to this now.

First, the calm. Then the building anticipation as she prepared for a mission, and then her heart starts racing all over again. It was almost frustrating. Made her want to bang her fist against her chest and tell the stupid thing to chill out. Instead, she silently clenches the fabric of her dress in hands.

Stay grounded. She had to keep reminding herself, this was no longer her first mission. She had to get used to it.

She was grimacing at her internal battle, however. Thankfully, there were more people on this mission, so she could only hope that no one had looked at her at that moment, that they were preoccupied. But when Nemesis began speaking, Song finally looked up from where she had been staring at the ground, remembering to fix her expression and releasing the crease of her furrowed brows.

Really, she was very grateful that Nemesis was with her this time. Maybe she couldn’t help herself to it, but he seemed to have a certain feeling around him, one that made her feel okay to rely on him and trust his word. To learn from him, and with his guide she’d get through this mission. She listens intently as he goes over the plan once more, but -

At the mention of Samadhi, Song finds herself glancing at the man in mention.

Her attitude changes and irritation at seeing his smug face again makes her eye twitch. It wasn’t entirely warranted, however. The last mission had proved that he wasn’t a complete jerk.

Her brows furrow again.

Samadhi had covered for her that mission, when she’d made a stupid mistake and might’ve got caught. But..that guy still annoyed her! She’d been so focused on the mission, and he’d made her feel like she was a joke. Maybe he had too much fun with it. His teasing…his flirting, more like, had left her feeling….well she didn’t entirely understand it. It was almost embarrassing. Back in that moment, she had nearly felt like she was back with Rem. She curses herself for ever thinking Samadhi was like him.

She narrows her eyes slightly at Samadhi before turning her head away, returning her attention back to Nemesis. Whatever, she’d try to ignore him. She wasn’t about to give Samadhi the satisfaction of getting in her head. (Really, he was already there, but she wasn’t going to admit that).

By the time she’d stopped trying to stare a hole into the side of Samadhi’s head, Nemesis had just finished talking. Then he turned to her, Song straightened her posture and her lips finally softly curve into a subtle smile and she nods as a sign of listening. Yes, she was entirely obedient to his direction.

“Thankyou,” she responds faintly as Nemesis hands her the rapier. “I’ll do my best.” She wanted to prove her worthiness, wanted to be of help to the team.

Yet, she still has a lot to learn, she knows this much. She wasn’t frontline material yet. She was ‘barrier cleanup’, a ‘stop any escapees’. She’d play her role willingly, show Nemesis her improvements, maybe. She wanted to prove that her training with Vermillion and Nemesis had paid off, that she was getting better.

She turns away as Nemesis and the others prepare for the ambush. Song finds herself near the back of the group, right beside Pawn. Song guesses they were both the backups here. Both sent to stay behind as the others went forward.

She’s still not really spoken to Pawn before, but she still turns toward the other woman. There’s a certain air of unknown, something that makes Song pause. Pawn being so quiet makes her heard to read, instead Song makes her wonder direct.

“Pawn? Are you okay?”

Song gets momentarily distracted by the sound of the others initiating the ambush on the guards. She turns to get a better sight, tightly gripping onto the rapier. She can’t use her power without getting hurt herself, so instead she readies the sword in her hand in the case she needs to use it.

In a moment of awe, she freezes as she watches Nemesis’ swift movements. It’s an impressive sight, and something surges in her that makes her heart rate climb yet again. It is..inspiring.

She comes back to her other senses.

“We should…” She mumbles, mostly to herself as she adjusts her position, to remain out of sight in case any of the guards might try to run. In doing so, she finds herself accidentally bumping shoulders with Pawn.

She turns her head toward the woman, “Sorry about that,” that was sort of embarrassing. Already stumbling up..Song bites her bottom lip slightly.

Location: ll Mentions: Aurelius ll Interactions: Andrius, Arakan & Emersyn. (+Sierra sorta)



[ SONG GRACIE ]

It was beginning to seem that she had a routine to this now.

First, the calm. Then the building anticipation as she prepared for a mission, and then her heart starts racing all over again. It was almost frustrating. Made her want to bang her fist against her chest and tell the stupid thing to chill out. Instead, she silently clenches the fabric of her dress in hands.

Stay grounded. She had to keep reminding herself, this was no longer her first mission. She had to get used to it.

She was grimacing at her internal battle, however. Thankfully, there were more people on this mission, so she could only hope that no one had looked at her at that moment, that they were preoccupied. But when Nemesis began speaking, Song finally looked up from where she had been staring at the ground, remembering to fix her expression and releasing the crease of her furrowed brows.

Really, she was very grateful that Nemesis was with her this time. Maybe she couldn’t help herself to it, but he seemed to have a certain feeling around him, one that made her feel okay to rely on him and trust his word. To learn from him, and with his guide she’d get through this mission. She listens intently as he goes over the plan once more, but -

At the mention of Samadhi, Song finds herself glancing at the man in mention.

Her attitude changes and irritation at seeing his smug face again makes her eye twitch. It wasn’t entirely warranted, however. The last mission had proved that he wasn’t a complete jerk.

Her brows furrow again.

Samadhi had covered for her that mission, when she’d made a stupid mistake and might’ve got caught. But..that guy still annoyed her! She’d been so focused on the mission, and he’d made her feel like she was a joke. Maybe he had too much fun with it. His teasing…his flirting, more like, had left her feeling….well she didn’t entirely understand it. It was almost embarrassing. Back in that moment, she had nearly felt like she was back with Rem. She curses herself for ever thinking Samadhi was like him.

She narrows her eyes slightly at Samadhi before turning her head away, returning her attention back to Nemesis. Whatever, she’d try to ignore him. She wasn’t about to give Samadhi the satisfaction of getting in her head. (Really, he was already there, but she wasn’t going to admit that).

By the time she’d stopped trying to stare a hole into the side of Samadhi’s head, Nemesis had just finished talking. Then he turned to her, Song straightened her posture and her lips finally softly curve into a subtle smile and she nods as a sign of listening. Yes, she was entirely obedient to his direction.

“Thankyou,” she responds faintly as Nemesis hands her the rapier. “I’ll do my best.” She wanted to prove her worthiness, wanted to be of help to the team.

Yet, she still has a lot to learn, she knows this much. She wasn’t frontline material yet. She was ‘barrier cleanup’, a ‘stop any escapees’. She’d play her role willingly, show Nemesis her improvements, maybe. She wanted to prove that her training with Vermillion and Nemesis had paid off, that she was getting better.

She turns away as Nemesis and the others prepare for the ambush. Song finds herself near the back of the group, right beside Pawn. Song guesses they were both the backups here. Both sent to stay behind as the others went forward.

She’s still not really spoken to Pawn before, but she still turns toward the other woman. There’s a certain air of unknown, something that makes Song pause. Pawn being so quiet makes her heard to read, instead Song makes her wonder direct.

“Pawn? Are you okay?”

Song gets momentarily distracted by the sound of the others initiating the ambush on the guards. She turns to get a better sight, tightly gripping onto the rapier. She can’t use her power without getting hurt herself, so instead she readies the sword in her hand in the case she needs to use it.

In a moment of awe, she freezes as she watches Nemesis’ swift movements. It’s an impressive sight, and something surges in her that makes her heart rate climb yet again. It is..inspiring.

She comes back to her other senses.

“We should…” She mumbles, mostly to herself as she adjusts her position, to remain out of sight in case any of the guards might try to run. In doing so, she finds herself accidentally bumping shoulders with Pawn.

She turns her head toward the woman, “Sorry about that,” that was sort of embarrassing. Already stumbling up..Song bites her bottom lip slightly.

Location: ll Mentions: Aurelius l Interactions: Andrius, Arakan & Emersyn (+Sierra sorta)​
 
Dorian Alfieri | Ematille

There were dreadful inefficiencies among the upper ranks of Arcana. Limited communication between the factions, an almost sluggish pace to enact any sort of urgent action, and, above all else, the proclivity for idiocy that plagued their numbers. Would an incursion into the Balfour manor succeed? Perhaps, yes, there was a not insignificant likelihood. But such an expedition could also conclude in their capture and summary execution. The mission at the Arva estate had been largely a success and emboldened the others far too much. With the downfall of a major noble putting all others on high alert, moving again so soon was taking on undue risk.

Lady Valeria Arva was hardly the most sympathetic of figures. A small fish in a big pond, few were up in arms about her disappearance, but the peerage was rife with paranoia. While Meredith's -- Sophia Arva -- connection to Arcana remained tenuous and unsubstantiated, the more fearful were quick to point fingers. The Balfours, perhaps the most powerful of the queen's supporters, had all the reason to be fearful. Arcana aside, their enemies numbered in the dozens; at any given point there were several schemes and plots to undermine them.

Ematille was the loudest dissenter in the discussion of Arcana's next plans, almost uncharacteristically so. The lengthy trail of evidence and the all-too-convenient absences of the Duke's eldest children were abnormally laid out before them, like cheese upon a great mouse trap. And, like the rodents they were, these fools decided to risk the entire movement for a rash opportunity. The only reason Arcana had managed to survive Raeger's ill-advised attack years ago was by scurrying about in the shadows, with their wits and patience gathered about them until the organization had recovered sufficient strength. Dorian was in no hurry to retrace their steps.

Alas, the fractured nature of the rebels worked against him this time. Outvoted and overruled, he was forced to hold his tongue bitterly as Arcana decided on their raid on the Balfour manor. Ever amicable, Dorian committed his own forces to the mission as well. He could not afford to have the organization crippled a second time. Not yet, at least.

•••​

The seventh time someone stepped on his toes, Dorian considered quitting Arcana and retiring to his country house. Idyllic pastures home to a few flocks of gentle sheep, a perfectly manicured garden of the finest, most fragrant flowers in all the land, a lovely waterway leading to a crystalline lake with roosting swans, and -- best of all -- absolutely none of these rancid, filthy, low-born parasites. A bony elbow jabbed sharply at Dorian's ribs, forcing him to restrain a wince. By the gods, it was like they'd never learned how to use their limbs like a human. Evolution had seen fit to never elevate these mongrels beyond hairless, brainless apes and now he was paying for it dearly.

There were too many packed within the short radius of the magical lamp's range for his liking. Dorian hunched low and pressed himself closely to the others as they managed to move in step. Carefully warding off stray limbs with a few subtle adjustments and taking those he couldn't without visible complaint, he was once again reminded of how little he enjoyed field expeditions. Unfortunately, it was just another sacrifice he had to make, lest another try and encroach on his territory. Dorian cast a subtle glance at Reno's back. Though he trusted none among Arcana's members, Spinel ranked especially low on that list. Who could know what was hidden in the mind-reader's own thoughts? Dorian far preferred the shallow, transparent visage of Vermillion to Spinel's murky depths.

Their advance slowed to a shuffle, then to a halt as they made their way through the halls of the Balfour manor, guided by Arum and his enchanted maid. That boy was a valuable asset, despite his proclivity for emotional outbursts. It was a shame Dorian hadn't been able to snatch him up earlier. It would be difficult -- though not impossible -- to poach him from under Vermillion's nose, but his relationship with the first faction lately tended towards antagonism more than he preferred. Aurelius was such a beastly little creature, always refusing to play nice. At least that made him easy to understand.

The appearance of the youngest Balfour was unexpected but not surprising. Dorian stiffened as she stepped out, hand going to grasp the hilt of the slim sword at his side. Arum's Stigma held still, but Lady Cozette Balfour was a wild card -- the most mysterious and potentially the most dangerous element in the manor. He'd hoped to avoid her especially, but clearly luck was against him.

But even as the young noble's blade flashed and cut down her maid in a gory flash, Dorian remained unmoving. Their guide was all but dead, bleeding out onto the stone floors of the manor, but that didn't mean the end of their mission. Arum was the only one exposed, unguarded by their borrowed relic, and his Stigma had yet to loosen its hold on the unstable girl. Whether he convinced Cozette of his innocence or not, the remainder of the group could still continue on. Or at least, they could have, until Arum managed to both dissuade Lady Balfour from skewering him and also allow her to direct the incoming guards toward his hidden allies. Their heavy, armored footfalls echoed loudly through the halls. What a turn of events. Dorian's eye twitched fiercely.

Scowling under his mask, he prepared to engage the guards. They could not be permitted to pass, or it would spell doom for the attack. Not much better than Raeger, then. With a short, silent denial, Dorian shut down Amethyst's query. The injured maid was an agent of the Balfours, not one of their allies, and her utility had run its course. What was most important now was swiftly eliminating the guards and making their way to the Duke before their disappearance raised alarm. Utilizing Spinel's discomforting Stigma to communicate to the small group, his fingers tightened around the unfamiliar hilt of his new relic. Rattler was best suited to initiate the ambush, and their numbers and the element of surprise would have to be enough to compensate for their lack of combat skills.

As the guards trampled closer and closer, rushing in their haste to chase down the supposed assassin, Dorian signaled to move.

Interactions:

Mentions:
Group 1

Location: Balfour Manor

 
Scene 002
Pawn
Emersyn Illiro

The first night Emersyn tore blade to flesh was eternally etched into her memory. Not even the relic could make her forget and in truth, Emersyn wished it had. “Never again,” were words she wished she vowed and devoted herself to as she stood atop of blood stained oak floors. Perhaps then she would be in an entirely different setting. Yet, there she hid behind a water fountain sculpture of all things in a crouched position, soaked to the bone with a wide lilypad upon her head. After being tasked with scouting the area ahead of her group, she reminisced bitterly while she waited for the others to reach her location. She twisted the dial on her wristwatch in the meantime. The slow rotation of the minute hand passing and the steady splash of the fountain placed her in a trance. Emersyn remained in position until her group entered her perimeter about an hour later.

✦ ✦ ✦
She eventually slipped out of the water fountain and hid among the bushes — not giving much of an explanation to why she was dripping wet… or why she kept the lilypad on her head. She assessed them while they waited, or at least, she took note of how many of them she had to keep track of. Among them, Andrius was the one she wanted to steer clear of the most. She studied him warily and felt the need to guard herself mentally. The tone and choice of words she used must be chosen with further care… As for Arakan and Sierra, a more observant and semi-wordless interaction suited Emersyn for the time being. Then, there was Song — someone she lacked knowledge and observations except that her hair was as tame as autumn fire… It was… distracting.

The clatter of iron and steel scraped against the cobbled path peeled her attention from her group as the four knights walked on by. Emersyn recalled the details of their mission and licked her lips. Since when did her mind shift to such bloodlust? However, Andrius’s order disrupted her thoughts. She stared at him blankly, confounded by his decision. Stay put? Although her nerves were indeed rattled from being sent to this place on her own, to withhold this opportunity from her was unfair… Did Dorian mention her failure?

Emersyn could not help but study the way Andrius and Song interacted. Their exchange of smiles and cotton coated words made it difficult to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Since when did Nemesis know how to make that face? Such a soft feature did not suit his rigid frame, Emersyn thought — albeit perturbed by the sight. The annoyance seeped in further as did the chill against her soaked clothing. Was she seriously tasked with babysitting? Emersyn eyed Song from the side as she crept closer to her hiding spot and her gaze traveled down to the weapon in her hand. The weapon looked awkward in her hands, Emersyn observed and furrowed her eyebrows. She shook her head and turned back to carefully watch Sierra and Andrius. The clanking of the armor sounded loud and Emersyn worried the assault echoed in the air. Emersyn pinched the tips of her damp fingers. “Don’t be so loud,” she mumbled worriedly.

In the process, she nearly missed Song speaking to her and was pulled out of her observation by the amount of rustling Song was making. No, no… Not you too. The added noise spiked her anxiety. Racing thoughts of the amount of noise they all made had Emersyn searching throughout the area within her perimeter. Let’s– let’s be patient with her, she reminded herself after she thought of snapping at her to stop moving so much. Among Paranoia's whispering and taunting their location was found and inevitably closing in, Emersyn (while keeping her body still and rigid in an attempt to stay focused) was about to comment to be more mindful of the noise Song was making until their shoulders bumped. The sudden contact essentially spooked Emersyn, who’s bodily instinct was to reach for the pair of scissors attached to her shoulder strap.

When Emersyn finally looked at Song, the hand reaching for its weapon froze and the hunch in her shoulders softened slightly. A slow release of breath… Emersyn extended two fingers in the direction of the red-haired woman’s chin and tapped it before resuming her surveillance of the area.

✦ ✦ ✦​
#location: Balfour Courtyard
#tags: lilypad and too much noise
Code by Nano
 
AURELIUS STALLARD || VERMILLION


It was but another normal day. Another mission. Another breaking into someone's property. Another assassination. A certain Duke who's been involved with human trafficking, of all things. Ugh. Just the mere thought of it made his blood boil over so many times. He was itching to make this guy regret every live decision he's made up until this point!! But to do that, he had to remain calm.

He was proud as he watched Cyrus worked his way through and getting them all inside the manor. Yes. He nodded approvingly to himself as they walked along in this cramped space. Yeah...he would have preferred if this wasn't a part of the plan. The only benefit that came from this was the constant disturbance of Ematille's peace and able to get away with it. The stepping on the feet. The jabbing into his side. Yeah, this was all on purpose. Who even allowed the both of them to stand this close? No matter. No talking, you sneaky snake. Suffer silently more, thank you very much.

Things soon took a turn for the crazy when the so called, 'frightened girl', put a sword through the maid's stomach. His face had hardened as he stared at the red-head. Though, despite the shock, he didn't seem too concerned about the drawn out scream or the clanging of armor echoing through the halls. But this just got a lot more problematic.

'Relax and stay in the bubble.' Auri messaged telepathically to the others. Thanks to Rattler unbalancing the first guard, there were only two more to handle. He was confident he could subdue the other two with ease. There was no need to expose everyone if it wasn't unnecessary. Without missing a beat, he stepped to the forefront of the line just behind Reno as he pulled out his flanged mace. The weapon already cackling with small bolts of electricity as he stepped past the third faction's leader and out of the magical veil keeping him invisible. However, the guard just after the fallen woman would barely get a chance to react before his mace came smashing into the side of their helmet.

If the armor was strong enough to protect them from the sheer blunt force, then the current of electricity that jumped from his weapon and to the piece of metal just by the guard's head would be enough to send them onto the ground spasming before eventual unconsciousness. The last and final guard would soon get the same treatment. With only the added step of having to dodge a swing of the sword before hitting a home run right at their rib cage. Leaving a nice, noticeable dent in the armor to admire before the currents of electricity got to them as well. As for the first woman who fell, he did a small tap to the back of the metal armor. Wanting to make sure no one would be regaining consciousness any time soon.

His eyes did a quick a once over of the three unconscious guards before dullish blue eyes locked onto the young woman. Watching closely for any suspicious movements. "That's quite the show you put on for them." He commented, not making any aggressive movements himself. Unless, his intense stare was considered aggressive. But he just wanted to make sure there were no more hidden weapons or tricks prepared should their guards be let down for even a moment.


Interactions: Nano Nano (Guards + Cozy) || OldTurtle OldTurtle (Dorian) || Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian (Rattler) Dovinique Dovinique (Yen)

Mentions: Group One!
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top