Fantasy Cradle of Desire: In Character

[Nano]

Spinel

reno salvatore

location

Balfour Manor: Hallway

interactions

Leif A Murder Of Corviknight | Cyrus Dawnsx

mentions

Group One

The spectral gaze of Rattler’s stigma descended upon the forerunner within the group of guards, and the armored knight suddenly felt her joints lock up. As she fell face first into the carpet covering floors of cold stone, the knight closest to her stopped to grab her by the shoulder all the while lightly chastising her for bumbling about like a squire who was wet behind the ears. However, Lady Cozette’s expression turned odd. Eyes colored a tarnished gold locked onto the prone form of the fallen night before rapidly moving to nervously study the walls, ceiling, and floor of the corridor.

“This isn’t good…”

Spinel’s thoughts transmitted through his stigma was naught but a soft mumble—one that was swiftly drowned out by Vermillion’s orders and subsequent clean up of the trio of knights. For a brief second, it looked as if Cozette made a movement to reach into her sleeve, but the knight who held out an arm to push the young lady away from the fray triggered a full tremor to travel throughout her entire body. In the end two knights collapsed onto the floor, while the first hadn’t ever had the chance to pick herself back up in the first place.

When the man who’d brutally assaulted the knights addressed her, the youngest of the Balfours expectedly grew visibly distressed.

“I’m going-”

Once again, Spinel’s stray thoughts surfaced, though this time they’d be abruptly cut off when the effects of his stigma fizzled out. However, for those familiar with the redhead’s inner workings, it wasn’t difficult to roughly guess the rest of his unspoken sentence with one look at the nauseous expression on his face.

Taking advantage of the moment when Cozette suddenly buried her face in the palms of her hands, Spinel shoved the lantern into Magpie’s hands and slid out of the invisible shroud right beside Vermillion.

When Cozette raised her head and saw that a second man had joined the first, her eyes and the knife she now held in her hand shook.

“O-o-o-oh… oh no… he never told me there would b-b-b-be ghosts. Did he say ghosts and not not guests?,”

she muttered while holding up her weapon in front of her defensively. She tensed as if ready to pounce, yet her body betrayed her aversion towards conflict by instead taking one step backward.

“I need to to to to tell him I can’t do this anymore!”

“Who’s hi- no, um,”

Spinel interrupted the panicked woman before her gradually increasing volume evolved into full-blown shrieks.

“You wouldn’t want him to be disappointed in you, would you? You’ve already come this far.”

His words triggered her to shrink behind her dagger that was still pointed at Vermillion, and she glared at Spinel suspiciously.

“Did he send you? Wh-who sent you?”

Suddenly, she flicked her gaze downward to the floor and muttered,

“No… m-m-maybe this is a test by father… I’m doomed.”

Taking advantage of the extra time waiting for Cozette to finish talking to herself gave him, Spinel reactivated his stigma, linking all of the Arcana members present including Arum who’d been unceremoniously shoved into the noblewoman’s room. As soon as that order of business was complete, the redhead coughed once to bring the young lady’s attention back to him.

“Your… brother ordered us. You know. About the Duke.”

Though Spinel spoke vaguely, the mention of Cozette’s brother—whichever one she interpreted his words as—was enough to get her to lower her knife. Now that he got a closer look at her, the hint of the feral light in her eyes he hadn’t noticed prior also receded.

“O-oh…”

Cozette said softly,

“Then… you n-need this.”

The noblewoman reached into the well-hidden pocket sewn into the side of her nightgown and held out a silver pendant decorated with a tree inscribed within a circle.

“I um. Stole it like like he told me to. Father, he he uses a body double to meet the merchant… So, behind the door.”

Spinel blinked dumbly at Cozette, unsure if it was safe for him to claim the pendant or how exactly she expected him to use it. Though he could make inferences based on her words, he didn’t wish to move on without further information yet was rooted to the spot out of concern that he’d ask the wrong question and alarm the noblewoman.

Thus, he could only make a plea for help.

“Arum. Help. Or anyone good at twenty questions.”

In his rising panic, he completely failed to notice that Cozette’s eyes continued to wander, frequently flicking to the space behind Spinel and Vermillion. Her gaze never seemed to focus on a singular spot, however.

code by Nano

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

A Family Affair

Arakan︱Samadhi

Zariel Nano Steve Jobs nios Aukanai

Arakan takes a moment just to watch his fellow Arcanum agents at work, admiring the show for a moment. He looks over to where Foxglove is, still nervous- She was a good person. The thought is striking him, at the moment, as he rests a light hand on her shoulder to pat her there reassuringly for a moment. The scientist just grins and winks at Foxglove, before he starts to casually walk into the fray.

"Don't you worry. Noone starts off competent. There's no manual or guide for this sort of thing. Just watch and learn."

The three guards had their hands full with the first two assailants- the arrival of Arakan tips the scale fully in Arcanum's favor. Arakan casually dodges their swings, delivering bone-crushing blows with his fists and legs as he almost dances around them. The billowing folds of his robes obscure his movements, making him seem almost like a laughing ghost as he appears ever where they would like him the least. Arakan's movements are just beyond the natural- his mana-enhancement allowing him to move like a storm. Bones crack. Skin breaks, and blood flies.

Within the first five blows, the guards are all but dead on their feet- Arakan simply sweeps their legs out from under them before knocking them unconscious with simple little kicks.

"I really should get out more often. This really is good fun."

Code by Nano

 

[Dawnsx]

Bippity boppity booo

Cyrus︱Arum

Despite Cozette’s dainty appearance, she was strong. Unsurprising, considering she possibly just killed the maid with a single strike. Nevertheless, Cyrus was a little embarrassed when he stumbled and fell onto his bum when she shoved him into her room.

He got to his feet, feeling a little dazed as he came down from the adrenaline rush of witnessing a bloody scene. His heart had sunk when Cozette’s blade remained pointed at him despite his stigma’s influence, but he somehow managed to convince her not to impale him. How desperate must she be to stand against a dear “friend”?

There was the sound of clanging footsteps outside, but it sounded like Cozette was redirecting the guards. Cyrus took the opportunity to scan the room for anything useful. He could probably afford to rummage through Cozette’s belongings while she was occupied, but enemy or not, it would be terribly rude to go through a lady’s room without permission!

All in all, it was a fairly modest room. A tad small and… minimalistic, for a noble. He couldn’t see any fancy decor or cosmetics that he would expect someone of Cozette’s status to own. Even back when Cyrus was trapped in his parents’ home, he was afforded a spacious room, and he probably owned more than what Cozette had.

The only thing of note was an empty birdcage in the corner of the room.

Cyrus frowned and turned back toward the door. He could hear muffled commotion outside, but he wasn’t too worried. Auri was there, and he’d break the guards’ limbs before they could call for backup. He offered a quiet prayer to them and waited for the all-clear.

The reactivation of Spinel’s stigma prompted Cyrus to open the door and peek out. The leaders of the First and Third Divisions were out in the open, and Cozette seemed… not quite calm, but less distressed. In response to Spinel’s plea, Cyrus sidled up to Cozette and plucked the pendant from her hand, making sure to telegraph his movements.

“Thank you for your aid, milady,” Cyrus said, holding the pendant to his heart like it was a precious treasure. He made sure to hold eye contact, because that's how you convey earnesty!

As for how to get more information out of her… Cyrus wasn’t sure how. He’d always been a bad liar, and he was still within stabbing range. But Auri was a reassuring presence behind him, emboldening him to try anyway.

“I won’t betray your brother’s trust by abandoning the mission, but I must admit… I am a bit frightened by how quickly the guards came.” More like how quickly Cozette skewered the maid. Who, by the way, was still lying prone in a bloody puddle. “I would feel much more comfortable proceeding if you could tell us more about what to expect. Could you… please help us out? Help me out?”

Cyrus tilted his head, letting his bangs fall and frame his cheeks. Mustering his most pathetic expression, he blinked wide, green eyes at her and took her hand with a gentle squeeze.

This. This was his ultimate technique. The one that Daemon passed down to him, a “sure-fire way” to make maidens coo over him. The puppy-dog eyes.

(Oddly enough, the puppy-dog eyes never worked whenever Daemon used them on burly bar owners who wanted him to pay up. But that was neither here nor there.)

Code by Nano

 

[Nano]

Cradle of Desire

Scene 002

Group Two: nios Zariel ThatWhichShouldBe Aukanai Steve Jobs

The members of Arcana stationed in the courtyard would be allowed a few moments of reprieve, vigilant yet armed with the knowledge that the next guard wouldn’t be passing through the area until another half hour. Those who inspected or peeled the armor off of the guards would find the stolen disguise a good fit, albeit a bit snug here and there. After all, their targets and those selected to take part in the separate dispatch were chosen carefully with their respective heights and builds in mind, though one of the five expected guards were missing.

Like a phantom, a sudden presence wove its way behind Pawn. A frigid hand cupped the left side of her jaw, while a second traced a line over the front of her throat. Unlike the gelid touch of the mysterious newcomer’s hands, the finger lightly rubbing against Pawn’s throat was far more welcoming, yet the threat it conveyed was in no sense diminished. The moment Pawn swung an elbow at the person crouched behind her, a soft laugh brushed past her ear, and it swiftly pulled away.

Within the span of a heartbeat, the presence blinked into existence a few meters away from the group. A figure familiar to Pawn and Samadhi but unfamiliar to the rest sat with one leg crossed over the other upon the edge of the courtyard’s fountain. Crimson eyes locked gazes with Pawn for a few moments before the white-haired woman turned to inspect the object in her hand. Having managed to snatch one of the guards’ helmets from right under the Arcana members’ noses, she gave it a brief look of disgust before tossing it at the group of five.

“Ugh, this one was sweating like a pig. You should clean that before you wear it,”

the woman spoke in a tone seemingly judging them for even considering the idea. Unlike their first encounter with the strange woman, her body language was relaxed and lacked any signs that she was planning on fleeing. However, her gaze remained sharp like a finely crafted knife, keenly aware of everyone’s movements and prepared to react at a moment’s notice.

Code by Nano

 

[nios]

Scene 002

Pawn

Emersyn Illiro

Emersyn expelled a puff of relief once the knights, except one, were dealt with. She was eager to follow through with the next step in the mission until an impending sense of doom loomed over her. A red warning siren blared through her mind as a foreign presence appeared behind her. From their chilled touch caressing her face and neck and the breathy laughter brushing against her ear, Emersyn sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth and swung her elbow sharply in their direction. Unfortunately, the instinctive action failed to exempt Song from its aggressive path and would knock her down.

An apology nor a glance was spared towards the poor Song. Emersyn was seized by the talons of her own panic and held under its unforgiving torment. There was a ringing in her ears as her mind raced in anguish and dread. It was heard through the rapid breaths tearing through her lungs and seen in the frantic manner as Emersyn pushed through the manicured foliage once she caught the intruder’s location once again at the water fountain. Amongst her frenzied state, Emersyn noticed there was something vaguely familiar about their movements. It was not until Emersyn stood a few meters away from them did she finally recognize her.

She was the same woman she and Arakan encountered in Arva’s observatory, but this time, Emersyn could finally see her without the illumination of torchlight. The moonlight casted over the courtyard shimmered the woman's pale hair like spider silk. When their gazes met, every fiber trembling in Panic’s tyranny halted for a moment. The woman’s gaze was as if red twilight descended its grace upon Emersyn who perceived herself as something akin to a dull, beaten stone. And when she looked away, Emersyn felt impulsed to follow her gaze and to remain in the center of it. Thump, her chest responded and her cheeks flushed in tow. Then, her mind cruelly recalled their closeness a moment ago. Emersyn could still feel the cool pads of her fingers and the path they took along her skin. The dangerous intimacy they shared led the heat along her cheeks to spread to the top of her ears. The back of her hand hid the tremble of her lips, and Emersyn averted her gaze from the strange woman — suddenly abhorred by her thoughts.

✦ ✦ ✦​

Rubies— no, focus. Focus, focus, garnet, silk, FOCUS… Emersyn fought to steel her mind against such foreign notions and to trace herself back to the present moment. There was something else about the woman — something gravely important that one of their agents mentioned during their first encounter with her. Yet, Emersyn struggled to recall what it was. Emersyn glanced hard in Samadhi’s direction, not out of frustration with him, but as if his face had the answer written across it. Foxy and Dahlia weren’t there either and Emersyn doubted the woman would want to stick around for one of Nemesis’s interrogations. What she would do to have Spinel here right now, she sighed. The strange woman felt rather flighty to say the least. In the same hand, Emersyn would be greatly displeased to allow someone as suspicious as the woman of her ability to run free, especially after the stunt she pulled on her.

Somehow in some way, something clicked in Emersyn’s muddled brain and she stifled a giggle once her eyes found what it’s been searching for. Out of nowhere — “Flighty… like a bird,” she hummed audibly enough for the others to hear. I'm going to get beat up for this... “Birdy… Fly, fly away…” Emersyn swayed to her tune like a lunatic. “Fly away with HER RING,” she yelled out.

In the split second of performing a twirl, Emersyn unsheathed her scissors and aimed one of its blades at the woman’s finger adorned with a ring. Emersyn would immediately chase after the strange woman if she attempts to flee, leaving behind the others in the courtyard.

#interaction: Aukanai Zariel Steve Jobs ThatWhichShouldBe Nano

#location: Balfour Courtyard

#tags: ricky when I catch you ricky

Code by Nano

 

[Zariel]

The guardsman barely let out a grunt before crumpling to the ground. Andrius had made quick work of him and stripped him of his armour. The cold metal clinked softly as he slid the chest plate over his shirt, adjusting the straps with a firm tug. The armour was heavier than he liked, but it would serve its purpose.

Just as he fastened the last piece, a haunting presence rippled in the stillness of the night.

A sudden thump broke the silence, and the blond-haired man snapped toward the sound, scowling when he spotted Song on the ground.

"Foxglove! Are you alright?!" his gaze flickered to Emersyn, who was the only person within striking distance. "Pawn! What did you—"

Before he could demand an explanation, a voice, unfamiliar and unsettling, called out to them.

Sapphire optics narrowed toward the fountain at the centre of the courtyard. Seated on the stone edge was a woman with a vampiric visage, crimson eyes gleaming with a demonic glint. She was poised and unthreatened.

"Who are you?" he asked. But before he could get an answer from the stranger, something unexpected happened. Emersyn started uttering strange nothings. What on earth is she babbling about?

From the corner of his vision, he saw the dark-haired woman twirl, faster than he could react. She withdrew something - a pair of scissors - and jabbed them toward the woman’s hand. "Wait—!"

Whatever.

It was too late now.

“Argh!” Andrius growled, harsh with anger. He was furious at her insolence, her recklessness. They were in the middle of a delicate, unpredictable situation, and she had just taken matters into her own hands, escalating their current predicament.

The Royal Knight cursed under his breath. Hooking his toe under his sword lying on the ground next to the downed guardsman, he flipped it up into the air and caught it by the hilt. In a heartbeat, he darted forward, placing himself in front of Song, who was still grounded, and assumed a defensive stance.

"Foxglove, hurry, to your feet!"

NEMESIS​

 

[Aukanai]

SONG GRACIE

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

Ten of Swords FOXGLOVE

It was almost as if she’d been struck by lightning.

Song couldn’t figure out when they’d stopped being alone. In very the moment they were joined by an unwelcome stranger, Pawn had already begun to move beside her. Before Song could even turn her head to glance in her direction, she felt the full strength of Emersyn’s swing.

The world seemed to tilt the moment Song was knocked back, and down. She couldn’t count the seconds it all happened in, as she fell flat on her back with an uncomfortable thud and the very breath in her lungs being forced out in a loud gasp.

Then, the pain started to swell.

Amongst the pain, she felt the goosebumps again, she’d felt it before. Like something cold was lurking, something other than herself. There’s almost a slight tingling to it. She’s still not used to it. So she can’t help but forget and look towards Emersyn.

No…

She closes her eyes again. She has to be careful not to use Arcana ability recklessly. Not against a fellow member. There’s a slight twinge of guilt that resounds in Song, concern that she might’ve already used it. Instead she tries to focus on her own pain. Adjusting her position and taking shallow breaths to recover. Really, it was hard enough to breathe.

She can barely understand what’s going on in the meantime, the only thing she can register is Emersyn rambling about something and Andrius’ shout.

When sits back up, she realizes Andrius is guarding her front. In wanting to do right, she quickly shakes off the brain fog and struggles to her feet again, not without a slight stumble as she tries to regain her balance.

“N..Nemesis, “ it’s spoken so softly, and the tone almost drops when she looks toward the unknown woman. “I’m okay now.” As if to demonstrate that fact, she picks up the firangi again from the ground and readies it before her.

“What about Pawn?”

---

Location: Courtyard ll Mentions: - ll Interactions: Andrius, & Emersyn

Zariel nios ThatWhichShouldBe Steve Jobs​

Spoiler: mobile

[ SONG GRACIE ] ​

---

It was almost as if she’d been struck by lightning.

Song couldn’t figure out when they’d stopped being alone. In very the moment they were joined by an unwelcome stranger, Pawn had already begun to move beside her. Before Song could even turn her head to glance in her direction, she felt the full strength of Emersyn’s swing.

The world seemed to tilt the moment Song was knocked back, and down. She couldn’t count the seconds it all happened in, as she fell flat on her back with an uncomfortable thud and the very breath in her lungs being forced out in a loud gasp.

Then, the pain started to swell.

Amongst the pain, she felt the goosebumps again, she’d felt it before. Like something cold was lurking, something other than herself. There’s almost a slight tingling to it. She’s still not used to it. So she can’t help but forget and look towards Emersyn.

No…

She closes her eyes again. She has to be careful not to use Arcana ability recklessly. Not against a fellow member. There’s a slight twinge of guilt that resounds in Song, concern that she might’ve already used it. Instead she tries to focus on her own pain. Adjusting her position and taking shallow breaths to recover. Really, it was hard enough to breathe.

She can barely understand what’s going on in the meantime, the only thing she can register is Emersyn rambling about something and Andrius’ shout.

When sits back up, she realizes Andrius is guarding her front. In wanting to do right, she quickly shakes off the brain fog and struggles to her feet again, not without a slight stumble as she tries to regain her balance.

“N..Nemesis, “ it’s spoken so softly, and the tone almost drops when she looks toward the unknown woman. “I’m okay now.” As if to demonstrate that fact, she picks up the firangi again from the ground and readies it before her.

“What about Pawn?”

---

Location: Courtyard ll Mentions: - l Interactions: Andrius & Emersyn​

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Akseli Arbeit — Rattler

Akseli's blade was held high ready to put down the foes in their way, braced in both hands. Then it dropped slowly as Aurelius dealt swiftly with the knightly protection. His ash-painted eyes gleamed in the gloom beneath the obfuscating shroud, glancing at the snapshots of focused brutality against the knights. Dread burrowed within his stomach like maggots through dead flesh, seizing tight. The speed and ferocity turned his blood to the sharpest ice. Akseli found his breath caught in his throat, lips locked, knuckles white. He witnessed the carnage, the teeth-shivering crack of metal upon metal, the sparking of lightning that wreathed the mace in shafts of power. The very air seemed to hum, almost imperceptibly. The encounters lasted less than a few, miserable seconds. But the nightmares were dragged up from the dark, deep pits of Akseli's mind.

As the greatsword's edge tapped the floor gently, Rattler realised he wasn't breathing. For a moment, his body froze. Possessed by a heart-jolting terror, then came a surge of anger, confusion. His breath, tainted by vile poison, rasped in his helm as the Engine'er struggled to steady the rampant tattoo of his heart, to level his breathing. He almost didn't notice Spinel brushing past him, casting a glance at the Third Faction's leader when the thought brushed against his consciousness.

He stepped back slightly, retreating into the security of the shroud. Akseli observed the noblewoman, knife trembling in her hands, voice stuttering with uncertainty. He wondered whether it was the adrenaline rushing through her body or if there was something more to the mania gripping her. Her eyes had a feral, animalistic gleam about them — only receding when placated by Spinal's disarming deception.

Akseli tugged the cloak away from his neck. It was becoming infernally hot, and the tension pressed against the man's chest. He knew this is a delicate process, a single word spoken erroneously would seal their fate down a path he dare not tread.

"If we must, she should be unconscious." Akseli added, his thoughts echoing weirdly in the psychic union bridging their minds.

Interactions: Group 1;
Mentions: Nano (Reno/Spinel), Bloody_Death (Aurelius/Vermillion)

 

[Steve Jobs]

Scene 002

Sierra Daiji

Dahlia

Thank god, he wasn't a creep, Sierra thought as she inspected the armor. Her nose curled at the smell of the guard's helmet, making a note to herself to spritz herself before going home. She would have loved to dunk the helmet in perfume but feared that the scent would arouse suspicion. She affixed her bandanna over her nose before putting on her helmet and began looking for the other pieces of armor. It seemed that the man's hatred for the castle was so fervent that he flung the rest of his suit around the courtyard.

With how far all the pieces had been scattered, it took her a good five minutes to both find and shimmy into a slightly-too-tall suit (which smelled vaguely onions and fermented cabbage). By the time Sierra returned to the group, the rest of the guards were knocked out and a new member joined their squad.

Samadhi was not a name she knew well. He was a tall man (per the undisclosed requirement in Arcana) with an odd nonchalance despite fending off several guards. Between him and Nemesis, they now had a well rounded team (which was to say that she wouldn't have to worry about Pawn and Foxglove).

A thud told her she spoke too soon. With her dagger in hand, she ran back to the group and found the redhead on the ground. In glancing between the three Arcana members still standing, the blonde grit her teeth. Was she to blame Dorian as the Second Faction's leader or the person who trained her?

Whatever, it's too late now. Sierra sighed inwardly; yelling at someone would only bring down team morale. Instead she focused her attention on the unfamiliar voice by the fountain. The white-haired woman shared the same sentiment regarding the odorous guards, but she wasn't the focus of the mission. But that doesn't mean you aren't a threat.

She locked eyes with the mysterious woman beneath her helmet, ready to fight if she aggressed on her; Sierra was not ready for Pawn to charge forward.

"Pawn, stay where you are!" Sierra hissed. "She's not part of the plan!"

Zariel

Nano

nios

Aukanai

ThatWhichShouldBe

[/color]

Code by Nano

 

[OldTurtle]

Dorian Alfieri | Ematille

Really, what a disaster. Vermillion and Spinel's emergence quickly flung the girl into a fit of hysteria, babbling on about ghosts. Despite her physical strength, her mind was as fragile as glass. It was apparent as to why the Balfours had hidden her from the public eye; even the least underhanded of political machinations would tear her to shreds. Poor girl, to be such a obvious chink in the noble house's otherwise seemingly-impenetrable armor. The duke must have been a more sentimental man than Dorian. He'd have rid himself of such a burden long ago.

As Spinel and Arum began their attempts at mollifying her distress, Dorian stayed quiet. Now that several people had emerged, the shroud's utility was much reduced. Cozette's eyes, razor-sharp despite her obvious panic, darted quickly from place to place. At times, it was as if she was staring directly at him. She knew they were there, Dorian decided, or at least suspected there might be more of them hidden. That did not, however, mean she could track their movements or determine how many more there were. Good, that was an advantage he didn't want to entirely lose yet.

Disregarding Spinel's call for aid -- Arum would suffice, even if Dorian would have perhaps been the most effective choice --, he reached down and slid his sword several inches out of its sheath. The exposed stripe flashed silver in the light of the lantern, though of course no one beyond the reaches of the shroud could see it. Without so many people cramped together, there was enough room for him to fully draw the blade and not pierce anyone through the stomach -- though he wouldn't have minded if the tip accidentally found its way into Vermillion's. Dorian clamped down on the thought before it could slip into Spinel's network, the only sign of his treacherous fantasies being a slight twitch of the upper lip.

Jocularity aside, he couldn't ignore the prime opportunity before them. Nor could he afford to mishandle it. Beside Dorian stood Amethyst, practically dripping with bloodlust. Keeping one hand on the hilt of the sword, Dorian placed his other on her arm -- gently, but warningly. His skin was cool to the touch, almost chillingly so. Of all those gathered here, she had perhaps the greatest grudge to hold against the Balfours. That anger was useful when directed, making her incomparably motivated, but also made Yenoia a great risk to bring along. Dorian would've considered anyone else in her position too liable to act unwisely. Amethyst, however, he knew just well enough to trust she could restrain herself. For the sake of the mission and for the sake of their long term plans, she would have to.

Let's bide our time. If Arum and Spinel can coax any useful information from her, it will be well worth the patience. His grip tightened imperceptibly, then loosened. But be ready to strike at any moment. The young Balfour is too dangerous and too unpredictable to let run amok. Regardless of how useful she may prove, we will move immediately after. Dorian released his hold on Amethyst's arm, bringing his hand back up to adjust his gilt mask. Behind it, his forehead beaded with sweat. Spinel's connection left a strange ache in his head, the uncomfortable beating pulse of intrusive thoughts not his own. He hated the sensation, and he hated that blasted Stigma, tremendously useful or not.

Spinel was choosing to take a risk, with great potential reward if he was successful. If he failed, then they'd need to strike before she could alert more guards or, worse yet, engage them in combat. The brutish Vermillion would triumph, no doubt, but the gaunt man found the thought of further delays undesirable. Besides... a Balfour was still a Balfour. Dorian was here to raze the noble house, and he was not a man who worked in half-measures.

Poor girl, she should've stayed safe and secure behind her father's aegis, far away from this. Oh, well.

---

Interactions:

Mentions: Group 1

Location: Balfour Manor

 

[Dovinique]

Yenoia Abillene | Amethyst

In the span of a single breath, it all happened, faster than the blink of an eye. One by one, the guards fell as though they were nothing more than leaves caught in the wind, effortlessly cut down by a blade that moved with stunning precision. For a second, Yen once again witnessed the sheer power of her former faction leader that she almost forgot. Vermillion… behind that delicate, almost ornamental appearance, there still laid the skill of a seasoned warrior.

But it wasn’t Vermillion’s skill that captivated her the most. No, it was the panic rippling across the face of the trembling little lady nearby. The girl stuttered in the chaos, her wide eyes betraying her shock at the bloodied scene unfolding before her. What had she expected though? That after driving her blade into the maid’s stomach, a gallant prince on a white horse would miraculously appear and make everything right?

Hah. The concept of a prince charming was nothing more than a childish fantasy, a bitter joke in a world where knights didn't save damsels, but blades decided fates.

Hatred clawed at her throat as Yen watched Cozette continue with her fragile, trembling demeanor. Every stammering word that tumbled from those rosy lips gnawed at Yen's nerves, stirring an acrid nausea that churned in her stomach, so intense she nearly gagged.

Her fingers twitched with the urge to move. If she dashed out now, could she slam that porcelain-perfect face against the mirror, shattering both in one satisfying motion? Or perhaps, she could reach for the dagger hidden inside her boot and carve a thin slice across Cozette’s neck. Just enough to make her bleed… just enough to trigger her stigma... to make the girl scream in excruciating agony.

Kill.

The word burned at the edge of her consciousness, almost slipping free, almost infecting the minds of the others through Spinel’s stigma. But a touch on her arm pulled her back. The touch startled her, snapping her from the abyss of her anger and she turned sharply. Recognition softened her gaze when she saw who it was. Yen nodded faintly, acknowledging the silent reminder.

No, she couldn't lose control… not now, not yet. Cozette might be insufferable, yes, but that alone wasn’t reason enough to risk the entire operation. If it were the Duke standing there instead… even Gods couldn’t expect what would happen.

Yen exhaled slowly, forcing herself to relax, taking long, measured breaths to calm herself. She listened to the voices of others as they spoke, then she added, “Do whatever you have to do. But, trusting a noble will get you nowhere, let alone allowing one to live. Surely you’ve seen enough to agree by now.”

Interaction: Group 1
Mention: None

 

[Nano]

Cradle of Desire

Scene 002

Group One: Dawnsx Bloody_Death Worthlessplebian A Murder Of Corviknight OldTurtle Dovinique

Previously wandering eyes found themselves entrapped by the brilliant verdure innocently demanding adoration. From the way Cozette remained transfixed by Arum’s coquettish acts, it was almost as if his stigma’s hold upon her mind was strong enough for her to offer him the moon and the stars should he ask. A rosy flush dusted the youngest Balfour’s cheeks, and she stammered out a few incomprehensible words. As if Arum’s hand was made of heated iron, his gentle squeeze caused her to rip her hand out of his grasp and cradle it to her chest. Long, delicate lashes trembled, and Cozette closed her eyes to draw in a deep breath.

Once the young lady exhaled, she shyly tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear while her other hand began to fidget with the cloth of her sleeve.

“W-well. Umm…”

she stuttered. The corners of her mouth twitched in a desperate attempt to not smile widely like an utter fool.

“If you’re s-s-s-scared, you can hide here until they’re done? Only if you want to! But…”

Cozette moved to the side and gestured with a hand for the Arcana members to step into her room.

“I-i-i-if you move my wardrobe out of the way, there’s a a a a passage leading directly to my father’s study. It’s safer. And and and um. My brother said you’d know how to use the pendant. Tap it a-a-a-against the book titled Phantom by the Firelight on the shelf in in in the room. Like your gems and gates? I-I-I-I’m not really sure what he meant by that. Someone is probably in the study, but sneak in if if if if possible, or father will run… He s-s-s-said not to worry if father runs, but… I don’t know. Sorry…”

While Cozette hung her head, Spinel’s voice transmitted through his stigma suddenly interrupted any thoughts the Arcana members had regarding the words the noblewoman spoke.

“Arum, take the pendant, and Vermillion should lead the way through the passage the lady mentioned. I’ll stay behind and make sure she doesn’t send anyone after you. It doesn’t seem like she’s lying, but it’s best to proceed with caution. I also have a few…questions about how this brother of hers knew about the labyrinth and our plan to come tonight. Though if she tries anything, I’ll…”

Spinel’s thoughts trailed off, and he was the first to follow Cozette into her room. By the time the wardrobe was moved to uncover the passage, the redhead had already cut off his stigma’s influence, likely to concentrate on wheedling out any more information from the skittish noblewoman.

The journey through the secret passage was a short but less than pleasant one. Dust and the scent of mildew assaulted their noses the entire way, and the people present were required to either duck past various cobwebs or have the misfortune to catch them with their face. Dark as it was, it was easy to tell that the passage was poorly maintained given the horribly uneven flooring.

At the end of the passage, dim light filtered through what appeared to be a glass wall. The thick layer of dust caking the glass blurred the outlines of some of what laid within the room beyond, but it was clear enough for the frontmost person to spot at least two figures within the surprisingly expansive room. In fact, one was even facing the glass wall, staring into it intently while fixing her hair, though it was clear that she couldn’t see past the wall.

The brunette with short but neatly coiffed curls seemed to be speaking to someone behind her. Though her body unfortunately covered much of the center of the room while the dimensions of the glass wall cut off their view of the corners closest to it, the man whom certain members of Arcana would recognize by the name Cyril leaned upon the rectangular mahogany workdesk to the left side of the room.

Code by Nano

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Akseli Arbeit — Rattler

In the cold, dim chambers of the mansion, Akseli felt a flare of smouldering wrath upon his back. Revenge, edged with hot bloodlust, pressed against him like a heated blade to an open wound. His helm shifted, casting a glance over his shoulder. He saw the fury crossing her rose pearl eyes, the anger in her set jaw, the twitch of her fingers searching for weapon or reason. Dread settled over him like a ghastly pall, a blade lodged in his stomach, twisting. For long seconds, he stared at the pale magnificence stooped in bloodcurdling rage. For long seconds, he wondered if he had to turn the ash-touched great sword upon her fragile form. The thought chafed at him, stinging his consciousness like bile upon steel, leaving pockmarks of scorched metal. His hand instinctively clenched around the grip of his blade, prepared to lash out.

Then it stopped. As quickly as Amethyst's anger burned, it was snuffed out immediately. His shoulders drooped, moon-touched eyes darting to the man responsible for Amethyst's placation. He knew the Second Faction's leader by reputation, catching rare glimpses of him when he conversed with Spinel, but the Engine'er could scarcely fathom the silver-haired, gold-eyed figurehead's depth. Akseli pondered the man a moment longer. He hadn't realised just quite how merciless and duplicitous his viper features made him look.

He turned away, feeling shame linger in his mind, the aftermath of his thoughts. Quietly, he took deep, calm breaths as the discourse with Cozette continued. Akseli knew that they would move on soon, leaving behind the noblewoman, her trembling voice a sickening echo in the claustrophobic hall. Spinel's words clicked in his mind, though the Engine'er barely registered their significance.

As the wardrobe was pushed away, the stench hit Akseli a second before the thin plume of dust dirtied his cloak. The stink of rotting wood and gossamer cobwebs choked the air. Akseli resisted the urge to gag, his hand slightly swiping away the webbing clinging to his visor.

They reached the end of the craggy corridor, the glass wall caked with the pervasive dust of the secret passage, decades of disuse. Faint hints of light were admitted through the layer of soot, exposing the occupants of the room beyond. Akseli turned, signing to the rest of the group: Someone with me, swift enough. Knock them out together.

Then he readied himself to strike.

Interactions: Group 1;
Mentions: Nano (Reno/Spinel), Dovinique (Yenoia/Amethyst)

 

[Nano]

Cradle of Desire

Scene 002

Group One: Dawnsx Bloody_Death Worthlessplebian A Murder Of Corviknight OldTurtle Dovinique

Entirely unprepared for the sudden intrusion, the brunette stood still as the mirror suddenly swung away from the wall. The hidden door smashed into her dainty little nose, sending her staggering off to the side with a noise that sounded like a cross between a squawk and a yelp. Another woman appeared from one corner of the room to help her fallen comrade back up while wildly flicking her eyes between the intruders and other occupants in the room.

Sitting behind the mahogany workdesk was a similarly alarmed man, though his straight posture and stern expression nonetheless gave off a regal impression. To the average commoner, the man was indistinguishable from the title of “Duke”. However, any of the nobles who’d had the honor of meeting the Duke face-to-face knew at a glance that the man was a mere fake whose features vaguely resembled that of the original’s.

Compared to the other three in the room who were visibly shaken, the sole familiar face—Cyril—calmly slid away from where he’d been leaning upon the wall, as if he’d been expecting guests. Lifting the small, ivory whistle nestled between his fingers to his lips, he gave it two quick blows. Though no audible noises sounded from the whistle, the blonde discarded it onto a nearby shelf and turned his gaze back toward the Arcana members.

Group Two: nios Zariel Steve Jobs Aukanai ThatWhichShouldBe

“Tsk tsk,”

Eloise clicked her tongue. Right as Pawn’s scissors reached within a foot of the white-haired woman, the latter disappeared in another flash of red. Within the time it took to blink, she was behind Pawn once again, this time aiming a swift kick at the back of one of her knees.

“Don’t you hear your owner telling you to stay put?”

Eloise spat as she rolled her eyes. Despite being heavily outnumbered by a group of individuals who’d done a number to a group of knights prior to her arrival, the woman’s body language remained relaxed.

“And to think I’m here to help…”

she trailed off while eyeing everyone present one-by-one.

Finally, her gaze stopped upon Dahlia, and her eyes lit up as if finding someone she thought highly of.

“Right, you seem smart. Would you be interested in some small talk? Specifically about that girl^[1] whose neck got stabbed. Given how well you’ve hidden yourselves, I thought Arcana was a tight-knit group, but it appears I was mistaken. Some of you are quite vicious… It makes me wonder what she did to offend-”

Suddenly, the creaking of old wood and rustling ivy interrupted the strange woman’s idle chatter. From beyond the fountain, two figures emerged from the shadows. The first was dressed in finely polished armor, while the man she was escorting was a face quite familiar to those involved in high society.

Eloise silently gestured toward the duo as if giving Arcana the go-ahead while the two were still unaware of their presence.

[1] For anyone who forgor, Eloise means Knightmare.

Code by Nano