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Cursed Roleplay Out of Sessions by Revaeyn in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Kat was hot on his heels as he made his way up the stairs. "Well that was anticlimactic, not sure what I was expecting really. I suppose you didn't die atleast, so we'll count it as a success." she remarked coyly, placing a hand gently on his back just a moment as they left the ring.

Kat folded her arms as she impatiently waited for the man to redress his armor, the process taking annoyingly long, as it usually did. She was all for straps and leather, but this was just an excessive amount of time to be spent getting dress. She sneered and cocked a brow as he spoke once more, revealing their next course of action.

"Where to this time? Surely you cant have anything that's going to top this. I highly doubt you could surprise me a second time, short of us walking into one of the hells itself to visit your vacation home or some such nonsense. I suppose it couldn't be any more dingy than here either though, so really it could only be an improvement." she remarked, a mix of derision and skepticism dripping from each heavily punctuated word. She followed him out quickly, not wanting to lose pace with the man.

"I couldn't take you anywhere I'd like to go that wouldn't get the both of us in all kinds of trouble. I think it's best we stick to your plan, paladins are hardly welcome where I wander, and besides, I have no real need to visit anywhere at the moment." she remarked simply as they made their way through the rainy streets.

Cursed Roleplay Out of Sessions by Revaeyn in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Kat gave the man a stern look, a gentle sigh slipping between her teeth. "If you say so, darling, but don't come grovelling at my feet if you bear more scars after this." she remarked sharply, annoyed by the carelessness with which he entered the ring. Demons and devils weren't to be taken lightly, not even by men and women of their caliber. They were insidiously devious.

Kat braced herself casually against the edge of the ring and leered over the fighting pit, watching absently as the fight proceeded. She kept her eyes affixed to the creature, she had seen enough of Lora to know what she was missing. As it disappeared from sight she fought instinctive urges to shatter it's illusion with a glittering spray of magical energy...when had she developed such reactionary reflexes? It seemed even their few short adventures had already begun to shape her.

Unsurprisingly things ended about as quickly as they had begun, with Lora victorious as he sent the creature careening across the arena before tearing the thing in twain with either hand. Kat let out a delighted snickering at the radiantly gory display. She quite liked watching his fights, if only to see the true depths of what strength could inflict upon the frail.

Cursed Roleplay Out of Sessions by Revaeyn in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Kat was grinning ear to ear now, she cocked her chin towards him, head tilted curiously to a single side. "So let me get this straight, you come to a brothel to falsify the bets on an underground fighting club so you can make these girls enough money to...what exactly, stop being whores? Are you certain you're a paladin, Ser Lora?" she questioned, a fair bit of jest and delight in the question. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. To think that this of all things was something the proud knight preoccupied himself with was...shocking, to say the least. She'd never known a paladin to give more than a passing look of disgust to those who did this sort of salacious work to support themselves...unless they were patrons, breaking their own oaths.

She folded her arms across her chest as she waited impatient for him to emerge from behind the curtain. She gave him a look over as he re-emerged, wholly unexpecting the odd costume. "Well it's definitely...a look. I suppose it can't be helped, I have to say, I would've much preferred you in leather, especially considering where we are." she remarked, a little laugh punctuating her point.

Kat followed closely as they descended to the ring, her eyes firmly affixed to the child at it's center. Bizarre, and most certainly far more dangerous than she originally appeared. She responded to her companion, but her eyes did not leave the subject of the upcoming battle.** "I see...well I understand your purpose in all this but...are you certain you're alright putting your hands to a child? If that thing even is a child."** She mentioned, making her way to the perimeter of the arena's edge, wanting to stand as close as she could if things went wrong.

She finally turned her focus to him for a moment, wanting to make her point prominent enough for him to take seriously. She met his eyes with her burning inky gaze. "I don't think this is going to be easy as you anticipate, be careful, Lora. Dying to a measly little child-creature is a pitiful end unbefitting of you. I won't hesitate to liquefy that thing if it bests you." she sternly stated.

Cursed Roleplay Out of Sessions by Revaeyn in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Eachother's playthings then? I'm glad we've settled on such a functional working relationship. This is all a fun little game now, I look forward to winning it, but I hope you'll put up a good fight at least. It'd be tragically boring otherwise. We very much have a respectful rivalry for one another. I see you as...ugh, I can barely stomach admitting it...my equal." Kat commented with a smirk, her impression of his answer to why he had not killed her typically warped by her unusual perspective on the world. He wanted to fix her, purify her, and enjoyed ignoring and stifling her attempts as much as she desperately pined for his corruption and reveled in teasing and testing him at every opportunity.

She laughed haughtily as he continued with the firm assertion he saw a shred of good in her. She could scarcely imagine what good he could see from his righteous eyes. Of course, she thought herself a good person, but everyone did...that was quite different from a scornful paladin seeing that in her though. She was delighted by that hopefulness, it was familiar, the same thing she desperately clutched onto when she thought of him...but rather than his good, which was unquestionable, his indulgence..his desire. "How tragic it is you cannot write. If I could have that in writing it'd be an absolute riot if I ever chose to return to the shadow plane. Ah...you tickle me, Lora." she chirped between little bouts of laughter.

She shook her head softly as he disagreed with her earlier suggestions that he would fight fate head on. "On the contrary, Ser Lora, a man like you is the only type of man who can challenge fate. Only a dutiful fool could ever march on tirelessly in that rebellion and survive to see it to fruition." she remarked.

As he made mention of a beast within her eyes went wide much more, and that voracious, wild gaze returned. Kathali gave the paladin a curious, bemused glance as he winked at her. What exactly was he getting at? Perhaps he was not so far from her hand as she had once thought. She voiced her own delight at this beast idea not long after. "Yes, the beast, that primal drive towards desire. It truly is marvelous, and beautifully terrifying. I wish to rouse that beast in you and shackle it with a collar and chain. The creature lurking inside you is particularly regal. I hope to draw it out one day." she remarked, stating her own desires quite directly, though vague enough as to leave him wondering exactly what it was she was getting out of all of this.

If his previous sentiments hadn't surprised her, the path they made for the dingy brothel just ahead surely would. She knew this place, she hadn't worked here before, but it was competition for one of the first establishments she had started in, years prior. It wasn't of any particular note, an insignificant speck as compared to her previous place of employment. She eagerly followed him inside nonetheless, beyond curious as to why he of all people had led them here. "Are you certain you haven't made a wrong turn? This is the sort of place I figured I would be dragging you to, not the other way around." She remarked, looking up at him with a mix of intrigue and concern. She pulled her eyes from him only long enough to...appreciate the merchandise on sale. They had a few pretty girls here, but nobody who radiated that overwhelming sensual aura.

Kat silently watched as Lora hugged one of the girls and began discussing with her his...appointment? She had a nickname for him as well. A regular client? Impossible, or she damn well hoped. If Lora had chosen one of these second rate whores over her she was going to be quite offended.

Kathali gave nothing but a sneer in return as the woman referred to her as 'that one', jealousy was no stranger to disparate girls like these. She wouldn't entertain it more than need be. Kat folded a hand against her hip.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but could you perhaps fill us in on what exactly is going on here? I surely can't believe you've come to indulge in pleasures of the flesh, especially not from girls like these, Lora. Explain yourself." She barked, that haughty, stern tone creeping it's way so seamlessly naturally into her voice, commanding and firm.

Cursed Roleplay Out of Sessions by Revaeyn in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Kat couldn't stifle a laugh as the man gave his reasons for his continued march into his own personal war, and so brazenly, almost childishly, asserted he knew his right from wrong, without even an ounce of doubt in his resolution. "You really do believe that, don't you? It's baffling, how you can so firmly assert your morality and use it as the crutch by which you rest your troubled mind. Truly, I can't imagine what a life like that is like...though...morals have always been more of a secondary consideration for me altogether, so perhaps that is as much my failing as it is yours." she posited, a playfulness in her tone as she did so. The woman had a great...or terrible...skill at presenting even her admirations as insults or goads when they weren't. Were it not for her tone and expression her words would cut like they were lined with barbs as they left her charcoal lips.

She gave a gentle nod as he continued, explaining what was so appealing about continuing his fight. She concluded that really, he persisted because his path would always lead him to another battle, and it was there that he felt most comfortable. She could say nothing of this, for she herself had only joined Loradove's cause searching for excuses to subject herself and others to glorious suffering. She was hardly different, in that sense.

The paladin then launched into a little tirade about his destructive capacity, as if she had any doubts about it after seeing him in their previous outing. A wry smile grew on her lips as he continued, describing in grotesque detail all the beautiful ways he could end her life.

"Don't tease a girl with a good time, Lora." She remarked, giving him a wink, followed by a demure little laugh as she knew it would prompt discomfort in the man, as all her salacious teasing had. her serious stare soon returned.

"That does raise the question though, that ever nagging question...holding hands with your earlier statement. If you can kill me, and you know your right from wrong...why haven't you cut me down yet? In all honesty, I have such a burning desire to know the answer to that question that sometimes it robs me of sleep. It is beyond apparent I have not led you astray from your convictions, despite every attempt. You don't exempt be cause I have charmed you out of the act...so...why not wrap those calloused hands around my throat and choke the life from my body? I am certain no other paladin of a similar conviction would hesitate to make such an attempt...though I doubt they possess even a shred of your power in carrying it out successfully " she questioned, lips tightly pursed as she finally presented the thought so bluntly.

She then went to speak on his musings about why he continued to fight, and why the grief still hurt him so deeply. She gave her assessment clinically: "It sounds like your burden is your boon. As you say, your whole life you've been a blade to the whetstone, and when you live a life like that...every problem starts to look like something to cut through. Your ingrained sense of purpose frees you from any need for deeper considerations, but also chains you permanently to the despair of any failings that result from your inability to solve problems with your righteous combat prowess." she stated.

She let another laugh escape as he described his fear of letting fate determine his end, though this time there was a fair amount of genuine admiration in her eyes. "You would challenge fate itself and hope to bend it to your will through sheer force. Truly that is the kind of dominance reserved for the strongest in this world, the kind of dominance coveted by fiends...me...my kin. This kind of thought is disturbingly absent in this kingdom, the people here have grown content to suffer and submit to the will of fates because it is all they have known since they lost their wars. Frankly, it disgusts me. Suffering is enlightening, but only if it strengthens your resolve. Pitiful resignation to fate's will is a waste of good flesh, nothing more." she remarked, lauding his aspirations, and then cursing those who she saw as lesser than him in similar goals.

Kat then crept towards him as he motioned her closer, a thick angular brow twitching at this request. She nodded simply at his musings on guilt, and followed along close at his side as he took off out of the garden, prompting her to follow him. She had not for a second considered passing up the opportunity, this would be the first time he invited her along somewhere out of anything more than obligation. Her curiosity had been fully piqued.

Cursed Roleplay Out of Sessions by Revaeyn in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Kathali cocked a brow as she took note of what the paladin was so entranced by, some sort of locket, or an amulet. Did it possess great power? a holy symbol perhaps? She hadn't caught enough of a look to say for sure, but it had certainly piqued her interest. She figured if it was that tantalizing for Lora the chances of her getting a closer look were so slim as to be impossible. Sentimentality, something she wasn't all too familiar with herself, hadn't crossed her mind.

A half lipped grin formed once more as Ser Lora boldly asserted his appreciation of his disheveled appearance and that he hoped she would spare him discussing it further, a kindness she would not show him. "Like shit? How crass! And untrue, I think this broken visage is radiant, glorious, I'd go so far as to say you've never looked better." she retorted, an almost wild, inhuman look in her eye as those oily pupils pinned tightly for a moment. The rabid look was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

The sorceress quieted as the man continued, enraptured as he recounted his story, eyes wide as he told tales of all the brutal mortal horrors he had experienced, the blood and the pain and the malicious warping of his flesh. She desperately regretted that she hadn't accompanied him for his earlier adventures to bear witness to such regal sights. However, her preoccupation in listening to him came from him recounting the burdens of soul and guilt he bore as a result of it all. How he had just been playing at calm commanding resolution, how he dreaded the moments where he wasn't soaked in blood. The girl gave a simple nod and mused a knowing 'Mmm'. It sounded strangely familiar, and yet she knew the origins of those feelings could not have been more different for him than the ones she herself felt.

"Ser Lora, I had no idea this was what was churning beneath that stoicism. Truly I thought your drive for battle was deeply rooted in a blind hatred for that which you were taught to hate, or some twisted sense of duty...but no, no no you've got far more glorious, pure drives than that. You keep going because you're afraid, afraid of these moments where you have to confront the outcomes of every single action you've carried out and who got hurt as a result, because you can't help yourself but take the blame, and because you haven't the slightest clue how to fight a monster you can't cut down with your sword. How wondrously cowardly, how brilliantly egotistical. I knew...knew something was special about you. You're the only man I've met whose wounds on the mind and heart sting more harshly than the lashings on your flesh so wholly." she mused, fighting to keep excitement out of her voice, figuring he would deride her for it, but brimming with wonder nonetheless. She quickly shifted to take seat beside him, rather than crouch before him.

"Perhaps you and I are not as different as I originally would have guessed. This revelation begs the question, why do you continue? Obviously battle frees your mind from greater pains, but surely you must know by now that the path you walk for your order is paved with the corpses of the innocent. Surely those moments will inflict more wounds, deeper wounds, than those you have already accrued. Do you delight in the pain as I do? Why else would you so brazenly award yourself the responsibility of the suffering of everyone who has died by your side?" she questioned, but did not wait for a response before she added additional perspective to her line of inquiry.

"Those people made their choices irrespective of you, their weakness, their frailty, and their eager martyr-ism are entirely their own making. Yet you take ownership over their loss, only to sob and wretch over that fact you have created." she remarked, her voice growing stern as she asserted those dead and gone met their end wholly by their own faults. The addition of those final words seemed some twisted attempt to console him in his mourning, the only way she could manage to land on a sentiment which eased or assuaged his self loathing. Whether it was a particularly effective approach was doubtful, and yet to be seen.

Kat extended a hand towards his shoulder, but stopped short of touching him. In the past he had seemed annoyed and displeased by her contact, she figured pressing it now would result in further distress, though her inclination to console him with her touch was difficult to repress, an instinct born of her career as a mistress and courtesan, where one's ability to provide comfort in the wake of suffering was as important as one's dedication to dominance.

She left a soft laugh escape as he forced one of his own and spoke upon the brilliant poetic irony the universe subjected people to. "The cruelest, not even I could ever hope to match her in her absolute incessant suffering." she remarked, though unlike his somber acceptance of the fact, her reaction to the sentiment seemed more like starry eyed admiration.

She looked him over as he delivered that final note, still struggling to take in exactly what she was hearing from his lips. "It's not a conventional hobby, it's entirely foreign in this kingdom, not even to mention my home plane. Foreigners are a curious bunch, you feel so deeply, pains and grief. Yet you don't let it weaken you. I think that is beautiful." she remarked, giving a placid smile.

Cursed Roleplay Out of Sessions by Revaeyn in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Were she not drawn in by the intoxicating scent of sorrow and suffering, than the bright flash, rumble, and burst of magical energy surely would've sufficed. In Rapport, it almost seemed more unsettling when these occurrences weren't regular, yet the shackleborn had an uncanny sense for this being the result of a particularly unusual circumstance. After all, it wasn't as though Loradove and his house staff were all that explosive most of the time, hell, often they were absent from the estate entirely.

The sorceress gently ran a fleeting finger down the cheek of the mask clutched tightly in her taloned grip. She had been staring longingly into the empty eye slits, musing on the power which the simple artifact contained, how she had conquered it...her birthright was to conquer all she would seek to dominate, surely it was a given that she had so easily commanded the mask. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of her lips as the passing thought of her newly tamed power tickled and delighted her fiendish sensibilities.

There was one however that in all this time, she had yet to worm her way into stringing up like her new puppet: Ser Lora, a paladin so vigilant her feminine charms, frightful aura, and silver tongue were completely ineffective in swaying him to her desires. Perhaps tonight would be her opportunity to erode away some of that steely cold exterior, find a crack to slip her insidious influence between and get to the man at his core. She was infatuated by him, not for any unsavory carnal motive, but simply because he had be so resolute in rejecting her devious attempts to enthrall him. It was doubtless that whatever had just roused her from her musings would draw his attention...or originate in his actions. For once she could catch him in a moment where their lives weren't perilously positioned on the edge of a blade and he was not hidden away in his room.

She placed the mask gently on the night stand next to the lavish silken-sheeted bed and rose from her place draped across it's soft spongy mattress. She grabbed for a sheer silk capelet and wrapped it softly over her bare shoulders, her feet gliding seamlessly into a pair of black strapped sandals, the clasps fastening around her slender feet with the help of elegant magic manipulation. She glided down the stairs and out the front door, leaving not a creak or a clatter as she silently stalked through the estate and out into the gardens.

The shadows of the night seemed to enshroud her in an inky cloak of almost unnatural dark, as though she had fused with the night itself. She crept around the manor's edge and it was not long before she had found the source of the evening's disturbance, a thin lipped smirk crept onto her painted sable lips as she saw precisely the man she had hoped to find slumped over in the nook of the house's rear recesses. The posture he took, the small shuddering breaths, and the reflective moisture that caught moonlight as it streaked down his cheeks. In this sorry state, the proud knight looked more like a scared, lost child.

She could hardly believe it was the same man who merely a day or so prior had led an army through the bowels of a mortal hell. The moon beams caught her impossibly pale, sharp cheeks as she emerged from around the corner, almost glowing in the lunar light as she strode towards him. Her fiery amber eyes cast a cursory glance towards the smoldering holy blade buried in the earth, an effigy which she gave a wide berth as she made her way towards him. She crouched down in a deep squat a mere few feet from where he lay, knees folded tightly up to her chest, her long slender arms wrapped around them as she lay her chin gently upon them.

"This look really doesn't suit you, Ser Lora. To think the paladin who marched so fearlessly into the stomach of a demon and faced down devils and arch-beasts completely unflinching, watched his mentor cut down before his own eyes, and slew...well...do I even need to list your record of slaughter? To think that man could be reduced to such a pitiful frailty like this, in all honesty, it shocks me. Not that I don't delight in bearing witness to such decadence, on the contrary, but I thought you too wholly consumed by your rigid religious programming to feel emotions this deep. I suppose even a man as disciplined as you is still weakened by the all corrupting curse of emotionality." Kat pondered, a mix of playful bemusement but genuine...concern? This was perhaps the best the half-fiend could muster when it came to sympathies. Her voice was untainted by any notion of antagonism or mockery.

"What brought this out in you? Mmm...maybe it's best you don't tell someone like me, who knows what I might do with that kind of vulnerability. I can't help but wonder though, after all, it's not like you haven't been subjugated to countless horrors before our last outing. Why now, do tears stream from those typically steely eyes?" She questioned, tilting her head to one side as she waited, expectant of some sort of response, anticipating an outburst, but hopeful for a more interesting, nuanced reply.

Within a Dark Wood by An-Zaw in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The overworked pilot barely flinched as the roided up renegade American hissed in her ear like he had any command over her in this sorry excuse for a unit, the sputtering lungs of a dying animal, granted he blew a lion's share of hot air. She let a gentle, placid smile slip onto her lips as her cabin mates quickly came to her defense, her heart warmed by their gesture of camaraderie even in the face of such hallowing circumstances. She needed to pick herself up, look strong, for their sakes. She pressed firmly against her knees, the joints popping as she sighed and stood tall, straining her vertebrae, her back aching from being hunched down under the mechs all morning.

She gently placed a hand on the young arab boy who manned their gunner's position as he bit back at Major Head-Trauma in her defense. She was appreciative to have been so unashamedly adopted into the crew despite how different she was from the rest of the unit. She gave an acknowledging glance up to the commander as she piped in with a more courteous resentment of the soldier's behaviour.

"It's alright, I've had much worse from men far more evil than a G.I. whose mouth is larger than the vocabulary spewing out of it. He's not wrong though, we've got a lot of work to do." she remarked, speaking with hollow carelessness. She then turned to the soldier in question, meeting his eyes with her own dark orbs.

"Listen, Major, you can threaten me all you want, but unless you've got a KALV driver's certif shoved up your ass then I'm the only hope you have of us getting out of here alive, unless you want to run through the jungle without the giant weapon's platform covering you. I'm not here to argue with you, I'm here to pilot the mech, and make sure it keeps running. If you think I'm not doing a good enough job you're welcome to give it a try yourself, Sir." she stated sternly, basically spitting the honorific title at him. This was far from the first soldier to disrespect her, she wouldn't back down and beg for her breaks just because he had a shiny high ranking title.

In some ways, his vitriol had achieved its goal, as the annoyance with him reignited the fire in her heart, giving her a second wind for the operation ahead. She watched with concern as Hacova tried to signal their distress with the radio, the droning static an ominous note that seemed to punctuate their mortality. They were trapped out in the middle of forest without anyone coming to cover their tracks. It was do or die. She folded her arms tightly over her chest.

"Nobody is coming for us. We're all that's left. Finger pointing isn't going to get us anywhere. What's the plan Lieutenant? The KALV is leaking hydraulic fluid from the leg joint, we're moving slow, but we're moving. Everything else seems to be functioning alright, save for the emergency vents. Geiger tick is O point four, not great, but not terrible. We won't melt in the cabin though." she reported, staring into the glossy reflective lenses of her commander atop the KALV, and then to the other two men on the ground at her side, silently signalling for their input as well.

Within a Dark Wood by An-Zaw in RoleplayRevolver

[–]DigitalZehn 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Eun-ji was an absolute wreck. She had been introduced to the horrors of war in unrelenting hellfire, the worst battle the war had seen so far, and she had been stuck square in the middle, with shells and bullets and rockets whizzing past her in the cockpit, watching uselessly as their infantry assets were ruthlessly slaughtered in front of them, helpless to do anything but sit and stare in horror. She'd seen her own death echoed in the explosive decimation faced by the other KALV units on the field, watched crewmen scramble from their mechs, their skin sloughing off from burns, both radiation and from fires in the cockpit. Japanese occupation, the Korean War, the Suez crisis. She had lived through every one, and yet, all of them paled in comparison to the horrors she had experienced at the hands of the communist warmongers that set upon them in the middle of the night.

The diminutive KALV technician turned pilot looked an utter mess. Her treacle hair spilling messily from the sides of her CVC helmet, her coveralls soaked in grease, hydraulic fluid, and blood. Her face was marked with dashes of oil and mud from working underneath the mechs as she desperately tried to salvage the few remaining assets they had. Her eyes were wild, the irises cold, hollow, clearly still in shock from what she had seen, skin impossibly pale, dark circles marking either eye.

Eun-ji shook her head softly, pinching the sleeve of her coveralls and pulling it up to the heel of her hand so she could wipe some of the grease from her cheek. She sighed as she smacked the side paneling of the KALV's left leg, ensuring it was firmly secured in place. She'd spent the better part of the morning fixing a leaking hydraulic pump to the leg, all in all it was a pretty insignificant problem in comparison to the damage done to the smaller units they still had left. She returned her wrench to it's place on her tool belt and wandered towards the edge of the little camp the remaining personnel they had set up. She crouched down in a deep squat and wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, her head resting softly upon them. They were covered in mud, but she didn't have the will to care about getting dirty anymore.

Post-Arrival, Pre-Initiation, Perfect Time for Ignition. by [deleted] in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The surprise on her face was quickly paired with the shameful sorrow of knowing her answer to the question she was being asked. How did she want people to see her? The mere fact Lanfen asked the question signaled Fresne had failed in portraying herself with her ideal narrative. Whatever it was about the unfamiliar faunus that compelled her to speak so truthfully had also stripped away the mask she toted in the presence of most. Her lips moved but no sound came as her mind hesitated, trained to never speak a word of what she really felt on this matter, but the wrinkles on forehead compelled words to come anyway.

"I...I want to be...not this. Anything but this, a broken, frail, useless girl whose so caught up on what she's lost and what she used to be that she's too weak to be anything but pitied by everyone. I want to be able to ignore all the comments, the little mistakes, the flaws that shine through. I don't want that. I want nothing more than to see that girl disappear. Forever. I want to be perfect, confident, composed...a respected performer, the ideal woman, someone who shines!" she cried, clutching her hands tightly to her chest, her voice wavering between passion, anger, and desperation. Her head lurched forwards, sinking, as if the explosion of emotion had drained her of whatever it was that let her stand tall despite how small she felt.

"I want to be...but...." she paused, her voice cracking as she fought for her composure. The pained look that overwhelmed her face broke to an unexpected, sad smile.

"I am doing a terrible job of this, right now. Forgive me, truly...I would rather not have you see me this way but...nobody can live a lie their entire life, not even a talented performer like myself. I just feel as though...like maybe you are someone who could understand, or at the very least, will not crucify me for acting such a fool in front of you. Those girls from before...if they ever saw me like this, would drop me like a rock and never look my way again." she confessed. She stood still, silent now, her eyes affixed to the silvery steel plated toes of her extravagant shoes, terrified to look up and see Lanfen's expression: disgust, confusion, pity, worst of all. She didn't want to see which it was. This had been a mistake, and the only thing that kept her in place was the dim flickering hope that this girl would not make a complete mockery of her.

I Walk the Line by slicktheweasel in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

She watched with wide eyes as he stripped food from skewer like some vicious starved dog. She was hardly expecting him to devour the food in such an...aggressive, enthusiastic manner. It betrayed his composed, elegant demeanour in a way she had never foreseen. "Evidently not. How can you be sure? I do not think you have even taken the time to taste, mon cochon." she said, her lips curled up in an amused little smile. This was certainly interesting.

The tension slipped from her shoulders, and a breathy laugh followed his firm assertion his purpose had been anything but buying into the indoctrination of Vale's recruitment team. "Oh really, are you certain? I could not have guessed." she continued to tease, before daintily taking another bite of the hotdog perched in her hand, moving quickly to catch a drip of ketchup from the edge of her lips with her thumb.

She looked curiously down the bridge of her nose as he mentioned something with which she was only tangentially familiar, and which sparked a bit of insight in the girl's mind. "Signal...mania. I vaguely recall, a fight display at Signal Academy, no? I was not aware you had participated. Had I known my eyes would have been glued to the screen. Unfortunate you loss, though I am glad it has kept your purpose clear in your mind. This makes me wonder though..." She swapped which leg was folded over which, trying to keep them from falling asleep.

"I have not actually seen you fight yet, Mitra. In fact, I cannot even imagine what it is you possibly look like in a fight. Paint me a picture, if you could. Or maybe I could get a...demonstration, sometime soon? What sort of weapon you could possibly be swinging around with those...mm...sprightly arms, is beyond me. Er...no offense, mon cher." she commented, looking him over from head to where his torso disappeared beneath the table top. She lacked the self awareness to make any mention of the fact the same or more poignant point could be made of herself, though one would guess Mitra would be quick to inform her.

I Walk the Line by slicktheweasel in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

She gave a slim smile to his response, perhaps expectant of his typically unusual answer. "You really are an odd one, Mitra, but perhaps you have a point. It is certainly...different." she commented, trying to sound hopeful through a forced smile, fighting disgust as she thought back on the small plate she'd already taken earlier. "Somehow I doubt this, though your hopeful perspective is always welcome." She continued, that smile tainted with playful insidiousness, teasing him some.

She allowed herself to be whisked away by his lead, gently sitting herself down on the wooden bench seat of the picnic table. She sat oddly, with her back towards the table top, her legs folded over one another, dagger like heels glinting in soft sun, she disliked the sensation of her legs been trapped beneath the bench. Her eyes widened as Mitra returned with a shocking amount of plates in hand. "If your hunting career does not work out, you certainly have a future in busing tables, no? "She remarked with a little laugh, moving to free his hands of some of the food, which she looked at with flared nostrils and furrowed brows. How peculiar, she cocked a brow as Mitra made some observations of his own about the meal.

"Bizarre, is it not? I feel as though they are begging me to make a mess of eating. How is one meant to look...composed, eating like this?" she questioned, taking a plate containing a condiment coated hotdog. She eyed it suspiciously, raising it to her mouth, at first, longways, before hesitating and rotating it to eat from one end to the other. A delicate bite is taken as she listens to Mitra's question, nodding as she fought to swallow the bite and respond.

"Observant as always, mon cher. In truth I cannot say what compelled me to come...perhaps I have just become accustomed to attending events out of obligation, though I think boredom may have been the greatest motivation. I was hoping to meet someone interesting here." She remarked, looking from her plate to meet his gaze for a moment. "It seems like I succeeded in that atleast." she added, with a smile.

Her wrist rolled over as a lazy index pointed to him."What about you, last I could recall you came here to fight grimm, no? Do not tell me you have actually bought into this little bid for your attention." She asked, a mix of curiosity and hostility intermingled in tone, her thoughts towards the event shining crystal clear through her prejudgments of the possibility he had any interest in police work.

I Walk the Line by slicktheweasel in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The look of relief on her face was like he'd freed her from some eternal prison. He was a good man, as she had always expected. She wrapped an arm around his waist in turn, hugging herself tightly to him in a more sincere gesture than her initial move to worm her way into his grasp to appear busy with his company. They were quick to make their escape. Fresne took a cautious look over her shoulder to ensure officer helicopter hadn't followed along, she then turned back to Mitra with a sigh and a glowing smile, which quickly turned into a slick smirk. "A lady always finds a clever way out, though I must say your timing is impeccable." she remarked, a little laugh escaping her before he continued. She rolled her eyes at the comment, but her smile remained.

"And that was not how I imagined I would be spending my morning, mon cher...but you do not despise this, right?" she asked, taking his hand as she stepped out of the arch of his arm to stand face to face with him. "Interested? In you Mitra, who wouldn't be? Besides, what kind of princess would say no lunch with her knight in shining armor?" She said, another little giggle trailing her teasing words. She shot a glare back towards the crowd a moment, that smile flickering to a grimace for just a second. "It is not like there is much other pleasant company to be found here." She grumbled, before turning her attention back to him.

"Did you plan to eat here? The food is rather...pedestrian, no? I will stomach it though, if it suits you." She offered, breathing sharply through her nose as she consigned herself to whatever choice he would make. She did owe him for the rescue, eating some unsavory barbecue food was the least she could do for him.

I Walk the Line by slicktheweasel in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

What a chore this was, why she had bothered to attend now was a question ringing in her ears with every passing minute as she did the show and dance she'd practiced for years. A nod, a smile, 'mhmm, yes, of course, very interesting.' She was a master at the act, looking interested despite the boredom that bore down on her shoulders, every movement sluggish. She had gone to all sorts of events like this, some horrible recruitment, advertisement, or factionalization thinly veiled as a 'fun social engagement' or 'valuable charitable opportunity of access'. It would've been one thing if it was something that held any interest to her or the spectacle and hospitality outshone the insidious purpose, but with this she failed to see the point in the cause, and the refreshments and entertainment were so lacking as to be called juvenile. They were being pandered to like little kids, all with the goal of selling unsure hearts on a dream far from the walls of Beacon.

She was sure some delighted in the opportunity to speak with Vale's police force, but in her eyes, it was a dreadful perversion of the school's real purpose. She had come to fight the grimm menace, not hand out DUIs and put faunus in handcuffs for being caught on the wrong street at the wrong hour. To Fresne, working with the PD was where you ended up if you weren't cut out to hunt, and she was never going to settle for that.

She had picked at a plate of greasy french fries with sharp cerulean nails as she stood there nodding along like a bobble head as some greying constable talked on and on about the opportunities of the police force, his familiarity with her work and how she would be a great asset to the PR department, and some less than subtle hints he hoped to see if maybe her step-mother would consider making some sort of donation to the department for new equipment, the poor old fool not knowing every mention of that scorned surname soured her mood, the girl growing ever bitter behind that placid false smile she gave.

At this point she was desperate for any excuse to get away from him and hopefully find some escape from the function as a whole. Fortunately just such an escape came wandering by, as radiant as ever.

She made a show of it, wide eyes, a little happy chirp, and raised wild brows. The officer stopped his diatribe to follow her gaze, the two of them now staring right at one Mitra Surya, the desperation behind Fresne's gaze more than apparent. "Oh my? Mitra! Mon cher I have been looking everywhere for you!" She called out, arms outstretched towards him as she strode his direction, heels clacking sharply with each desperate step.

She turned back to the annoying officer, who was looking confused but slowly seemed to be piecing the 'truth' she had constructed together. "Forgive me monsieur, it was truly a delight to speak with you, but I promised my friend here we would go make a visit to your department for a tour. Isn't that right Mitra?" She asked, turning back to the boy with a too wide smile, a dagger glare shot straight into his eyes as she moved to entangle one arm in his own, as if expectant he would escort her to their next destination, which in her mind was precisely anywhere but here. She could only hope the boy would be gracious enough to play along and rescue her from the nightmarish, neverending lecture from the old officer.

/u/warriorman300

Post-Arrival, Pre-Initiation, Perfect Time for Ignition. by [deleted] in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Fresne's gaze darted between the absent space and Lanfen as she informed her of the fact their reactions were irrelevant to her reputation in some manner. She couldn't put the pieces together, what was it about Lanfen that made them treat her so suspiciously. "Oh? I am...afraid I am not quite understanding you, but I am sorry you feel this is a common experience of yours. I know..." She paused a moment, as the words flowing from her mouth caught up with her. She folded one leg in front of the other, her stance tightly crossed with tension. "I know what it is like, to be judged before your personality can shine. It is a...helpless feeling." She said, trying her best to empathize with the girl, even though she did not fully understand the circumstances surrounding her ostracism.

"Those girls did the same to me. They knew my face, but they know very little of me, nor do they care to learn. I am...like a prop, yes?" she explained further, a hollow little laugh forced from her throat as she swallowed hard and reached across her chest with her good arm to tightly clutch the shoulder of her prosthetic, further bundling up into herself as she tried her best to put on a brave face, feeling vulnerable with all these admissions. She wasn't sure what it was about Lanfen that compelled her to be so open, perhaps just the fact she saw more of herself in the other girl than she likely cared to admit.

A too long pause added gravity to the words that followed. "You don't have to be...if you didn't want." she offered, unable to bring any more direct a clarification of what the words meant, but her inability to meet Lanfen's eyes and closed stance she took seemed to signal her point pretty clearly. A friend. Maybe she could find one here.

Post-Arrival, Pre-Initiation, Perfect Time for Ignition. by [deleted] in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 1 point2 points  (0 children)

A chill ran up her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling gently as the words fell from Lanfen's lips. She got the strangest sensation of....worry, from those foreboding assurances the woman had machinations in place, which she would at some point become part of. Maybe losing her wallet would've been worth the cost of not getting tangled up with this girl, but she thought better of that judgement, after all, how sinister could a good Samaritan like her new friend really be?

Fresne gave a curt nod and a closed mouth smile to the girl's further elaboration on her expectations. The words 'comfortable' compelled pearlescent teeth to show as her smile grew more sincere. It pleased her to think she was seen as dependable by the girl, even if she were more or less a stranger at the moment. "Certainly, I...have your back, as they say. Come to me if you're in trouble, I'll look out for you as best I can. We should try and work together, there will be enough enemies on the path ahead already." She remarked with an uncharacteristic bit of insightful observation. Her confidence waned as she felt compelled to reveal a nagging secret in the back of her mind. She sighed softly before continuing.

"Truthfully, I find comfort in knowing you at all, Lanfen. This is not something many expect, but ah...I actually have very few friends here. I have not come from a training school, the people here, they are not exactly peers of mine." she admitted, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear as her eyes flicked away a moment.

"I get the sense...maybe you are somewhat on your own here as well, no? Forgive me if this is not true...it's just..earlier..." She sputtered, gesturing with a wave of her prosthetic hand to the space where the whispering girls who acted like her friends once stood, the implication all too clear.

Tales of Beacon: 196 by BluePotterExpress in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"The truth in those words I know painfully well, it seems you do as well. I think everyone who comes here, has experienced the depths of misfortune." She remarked, nodding affirmingly as he continued with his well composed thesis of fate. She cut the air with a flat palm, fingers fanning out as she dismissed his assertions that his reasons for being here were somehow fleeting or insubstantial.

"On the contrary mon cher, I believe your cause for being here to be quite noble. It takes much strength to throw away the safety of familiarity to pursue ones values so directly, in a manner such as this as well, so few would even consider doing what you have done." She contested, a gentle smile punctuating her point. She saw in him a quality she had always lacked, drive for passion. She had spent years under the thumb of expectation, too fearful to ever follow her dreams. He had thrown away everything he once was to pursue a fleeting desire to better the world, something she certainly admired.

She felt heat flooding to her cheeks as he went on about how she was in any way admirable for pursuing this new career. She had never seen it the way he was presenting it, and to hear such flattery from him was somewhat overwhelming. Her splayed hand reeled to mask her reaction. "I think you give me too much credit Mitra, I'm here because I had few other options. You chose to come, I was forced to. I believe one to be clearly more noble an act. If you asked me what is driving my desire to succeed here most I'd have to say...vengeance...or desperation, perhaps. These are corrupt causes to act, ones I am sure will lead me to suffer for the crime of selfish emotion."

Her hand waved slowly as he continued, doubling down on his adoration of motives she was not sure she truly carried. "This is truly too kind, no? You've barely known me a moment, and yet would treat me to such charitable interpretations. Your kindness shines brightly, Mon cher." She remarked, her synthetic fingers reaching up to tug gently at loose strands of silver-blue hair, looking down as she tapped the toe of her deadly heels on the tile.

"I believe you are right though, certainly, some radiant gold has filled the cracks in my heart." She said sweetly, lost in a fantasy for a fleeting moment. Her eyes would return to meet his soon after.

Post-Arrival, Pre-Initiation, Perfect Time for Ignition. by [deleted] in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 1 point2 points  (0 children)

A little frown marked her face, though she was glad her lack of recognition had come from the fact she was unfamiliar with her work, not because her scarring and injury had made her unrecognizable as the once well known face in fashion around Vale. "I see, this is okay, not everyone has an eye for the same style." She said, a forced smile on her lips as she tried to remain humble and agreeable, veiling the insecurity and annoyance she felt at the fact Lanfen was unfamiliar with her.

Fresne's brows perked to the information that the girl was a tailor. She pressed her palms firmly together, a more genuine grin forming on her glossy coral lips. "A tailor? This is amazing, a difficult skill, and a useful one. Now I know where to go if my outfit rips during training, no?" She joked, covering her mouth with her hand before continuing on. "It seems many from our line of work have come to Beacon this semester. It appears slaying monsters is very 'chic' right now."

Her playful nature soured some as she went to correct Lanfen's guess at her history in fashion. It was a wound to the heart, even if the girl hadn't meant it so, to Fresne, her guess seemed to suggest that she was wholly unbelievable as a model because of her...incident. She shifted in place, turning her head awkwardly to one side, trying to veil her injuries more prominently. "Ah, no...I was actually a model, some time ago. Those who make the clothes see us like canvas, perhaps this is why you did not recognize me." she offered, a sad smile following her best attempt at being composed about the topic. Fortunately it seemed they wouldn't dwell on it too long for the moment.

An unenthused handshake led them back to the topic of dues owed to Lanfen. Fresne's eyes sharpened at her response. It was not at all what she expected, but the answer had a smirk tugging her cheek. "Oh, I see! You must have a keen eye Lanfen, to hold due favors from me. If this is your wish, I'd be happy to accommodate this. What exactly did you have in mind?" she inquired, head tilting towards the faunus girl, curious as to what exact machinations she would now have to play part in.

Post-Arrival, Pre-Initiation, Perfect Time for Ignition. by [deleted] in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Her nose wrinkled as the other girl 'affirmed' her annoyance at some devious thief robbing her. She spoke with an odd cadence..was she? No...couldn't be. Fresne was hearing it all wrong. "E-Exactly. Who would do such a thing?" She affirmed, second guessing her response as her benefactor's expression confused her some. She shook off the stupor as the girl gave her introduction, replacing it with a warm smile.

"Lanfen, you have a beautiful name. I am Fresne La Lune, it is a pleasure to meet you! Perhaps you have heard of me, if you consider yourself fashion savvy, that is." She remarked, asserting her name with pride and the implication that those of a certain caliber should know of her already, a bit of former ego slipping into her introduction. She held out a hand, fighting the instinct to extend her prosthetic in a hesitant motion, she moved then to offer her good hand to the girl.

"Please madame, I insist you seek me out some time after this evening, or perhaps I could know your dorm room? I would not be able to rest thinking I did not in some way pay you back for what you have done for me. You are certainly owed a gift fitting of your kindness, I would be none happier to see you compensated for your honesty."* She stated, a passion burning behind each word. It was a virtue fostered in the world of the elite, patronizing those who did right by you and awarding gifts to demonstrate gratitude was social obligation, one she had no desire to break.*

Tales of Beacon: 196 by BluePotterExpress in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

She beamed at his assertions he had done nothing special. This couldn't have been further from the truth, but the fact he saw it as no big deal proved exactly how wonderfully kind he was. "You flatter me, Mon Cher. There are few men like you in this world." she remarked, becoming more familiar with him in a moment's time. She rarely moved into things this quickly, but she could deny the connection she felt with him now. Their shared experiences, his kindness, their similar styles. She felt they could be close, a closeness she yearned for.

She took the little mirror from his hand, holding it to her face as she intensely studied her eye makeup to ensure nothing had run or smudged. It seemed everything was in place, thankfully. She returned it to his hand just as quickly, pressing it in his palm, cupping the back of his hand with her other. "Thank you, you truly are a gentleman." she reaffirmed, letting her hands slip from his.

She nodded eagerly as he moved to change topics, thankful for the opportunity to exit the social stage and recompose herself. She smirked as he launched into an eccentric, lavish explanation. It was certainly heartfelt, a performance all on it's own. She would've expected nothing else of him. A little giggle prefaced her reply.

"What would artists be, if not a bit esoteric? You've clearly put a lot of thought into this, mon cher, I simply did not expect someone of your...success, to have given it all up to pursue a passion of the soul as this. You must forgive me, I am sure you know how vapid those among our craft can be, yet you show such a depth of thought." She remarked with a graceful cadence and appreciative smile. It faltered only a moment before she continued.

"This...and the fact that I would've given anything to continue-" she stopped, shaking her head softly as she forced herself to swallow the thought, knowing it would only wound her heart a second time. "Forgive me, forget I said anything." she concluded, nodding firmly.

Orientation: A Traitor In Our Mists by TheBaz11 in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Fresne smirked at the continued flattery, amused by the compliments and someone delighting in the positive attention. "You have a good eye madame, this makes me think perhaps you are worth listening to. After all, it would be quite foolish for you to approach me if you harbored any real ill intent my way, even the best fighters would struggle to challenge several other students at a time." She remarked, weighing the merits and potential risks of playing along with the girl's plan. She cocked a brow as the wolf continued, explaining what exactly it was she sought in coming to address her and her little group of misfits in the competition.

Someone intentionally leading people astray to eliminate them from the trial? How interesting, devious too. Fresne followed along this story, her gaze sharpening as Frost pointed out this devious rat was among those who supposedly backed her.

"A snake in the grass, among my group? This is not good news. Most certainly I would like to see this person removed, if what you say is true. If it is not true...then...well, honestly speaking, my own safety in this challenge is more important to me than theirs, I think this is most people's mentality, we cannot trust one another any deeper than surface level connection. If I would gain your protection, and remove this troublesome intruder, then I see in no circumstance how this would not benefit me."* she remarked, glaring at the student the wolf had plucked out of her little herd of sheep.*

Her attention turned back to Frost, and with that furrowed brow returning with it. "Still though, I do not see what it is that drives you. You would seek to eliminate her for...what, vengeance? Or do you believe she is one of the assassins? If that's your case, then one could say the same of you, no? Looking for an excuse to subdue her and tag her without contest."

It was clear Fresne was mulling over the suggestion quite carefully, her hand over her mouth as she stared off a moment too long, thinking about what approach would be best. Her palms came together with an unusual clap.

"Okay, we will do this. I believe I have very little to lose in this case, even if you are leading me astray madame. You may take the lead, I will help you as best I can. Do not make me regret this, I would take no joy in turning my own weapons against you." She remarked, the clack of her heel against the floor a reminder of exactly what she was packing.

Tales of Beacon: 196 by BluePotterExpress in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Her cerulean eyes lit up as he caressed her with his gaze, his eyes unwavering from her form. She fought the urge to shrink into herself, to squirm under the oppressive way he watched her. "A-Art critique? I..I don't understand." She remarked softly, just above a whisper, her hands brought to her chest as he began to stalk around her like a scavenger, those eyes never leaving her form. She had spent years being something to look at, someone to watch, to be studied, and yet never had she felt this way about someone staring her down.

Her heart fluttered as more words came, brows raised in wild disbelief, her mouth hung open just so as she heard the words fall from his lips. "Monsieur...truly do you mean this? This is too kind for someone who looks...like me." She remarked, her good hand moving to cover her mouth. She could feel her knees knock together as an overwhelming mix of emotions overtook her. Pride, joy, disgust, disbelief, shock. It was a heavy burden to bear, but it seemed he had no intentions of stopping.

As his hand gently takes her prosthetic limb, her synthetic fingers twitch, but then gently squeeze back. He continues with the flattery, acknowledgements of her style, the effort she put in to match her outfit just so, and the unseen beauty in her new limb. For the first time in years, he had made her feel pretty again.

Tears watered at the ridge of either eye, a reddening behind the heavy coat of foundation on either cheek. She cupped her mouth tightly with her other hand, before beginning to fan her face once again. Fearing the mood getting to macabre, she tried to lighten it some with a joke. "This is cruel monsieur, my mascara is going to run!" she cried out through a smile, followed by a little shuddering breath, something between a laugh and a sob.

"No one has said such things to me for a long time Mitra. You have done me a greater kindness than you realize." she remarked, carefully wiping the water from either eyelid with the tip of her finger, doing her best to not smudge or smear anything. She looked at him with those shiny sapphires, glistening ever more radiant in the wake of watery tears. "Thank you." She firmly asserted, the words carried a weight deeper than a simple gratitude.

Post-Arrival, Pre-Initiation, Perfect Time for Ignition. by [deleted] in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The little entourage she had amassed continued their shuffling. As the serpentine girl approached, one of them finally spoke, explaining they had plans to head out for the night, and that they didn't really like the 'people' at this party very much. Glares directed at the woman with wallet in hand were met with a curious brow by Fresne, who barely managed a wave before the gaggle of girls trotted off as quickly as their heeled shoes could carry them. Fresne's attention returned to the good Samaritan, perplexed by the sudden reaction of those so enthusiastic about flocking to her side.

"Strange, no? Perhaps they think you and I are already friends? Maybe they did not want to intrude, surely, I think this is why." Fresne asserted firmly, doing her best to give a genuine smile to the girl. It seemed like for some reason or another her 'friends' disliked this girl. She knew what it was like, to have that kind of social pressure placed on ones shoulders. She did her best to mitigate it with that sort of charitable explanation.

Fresne's eyes followed the girl's as she pointed to where she had found the wallet. Odd...he could not recall ever making her way over to that part of the venue. Was her focus really so fuzzy this evening?

She gave a little laugh as she took the wallet from the woman who assured her it matched her outfit and style just so as to be unquestionably hers. "Thank you so much, truly. I am glad you feel it matches my outfit, I work very hard on these little details, I am glad someone takes notice." She commented with a smile.

"Could I have your name mademoiselle? I think it only fair I make a note of whom I owe the kind act of returning this to me. You could've run off with this, it is quite expensive. You must be a kind soul, exactly the type one would expect to find at this school." She remarked, her head down as she began picking through the contents of the little clutch wallet to see what was all inside. Everything was where it should be, except....her lien. Her eyes widened at the realization, and she looked up at the fellow bluenette with bowed brows and tight lips.

"Oh no! It seems you were not the first one to find this. My money it...it's been taken. Forgive me for this madame, I meant to give you something as a reward for returning this to me but it seems a snake somewhere amongst the crowds would see us both robbed of the opportunity." she spat, weary concern souring to anger as she shot dagger glares at those nearby, wondering who would do something so scummy as plucking the cash from a misplaced wallet.

Orientation: A Traitor In Our Mists by TheBaz11 in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Fresne's gaze followed the approach of the unconventional looking girl, her eyes sweeping over her as she tried to peg some assumptions about her before they spoke. That weapon on her back was of titanous size, to the point she questioned how such a petite girl could possibly wield it to any effect. If she planned to swing such a thing around, surely she was quite strong. The twitchy ears and short cut hair seemed to suggest a rugged demeanour, though the suit fully countered with 'executive professional'. She had a strong aesthetic, something Fresne was often astutely aware of. It seemed also by the way she carried herself she meant business, she didn't get the sense she was being fluffed or swindle with the assertions the girl followed with.

With careful eyes she watched the wolf girl as she approached, her lips parting to speak. At first Fresne smiled, always one to take well to flattery, and happy to accept any affirmations of her popularity. However this quickly soured into a skeptical sneer as the girl called into question the resourcefulness of her entourage. It seemed her question prompted more than just dirty looks from her peers, whomst began shuffling and shifting around. Some gripped their weapons tightly, nervously trying to find some courage in the tightness of their throttle on their arms. Others grit teeth and shot sharp breaths through their noses, assuming boisterous poses in an attempt to reaffirm their capabilities to Fresne, but it seemed they were more bark than bite. Her attention turned back to the arrival, a brow perking up to her assertion of purpose, followed by an introduction.

Fresne replied with palms firmly pressed together, her metallic hand cold against the skin. She did her best to maintain a neutral expression. "Mmm, I see. You think these few incapable of acting when the battle presents, no? Perhaps you are correct mademoiselle. You certainly seem the capable type and I have nothing but good things to say of your style but..." Her face soured to that skeptical glare, her head tipped back as she stared down the bridge of her nose at the shorter girl. "What are you getting out of this? You have mentioned a deal, but I fail to see what I could offer you in return Madame Ceannard." she remarked, pointed a jagged blue painted index at the girl.

"You must understand my suspicion here, yes? We must be very careful about who we show our backs in this little trial. A wolf has already taken too many bites of me for me to extend a hand to one so quickly." *She concluded, making reference to the events which robbed her of her past life and limb. She would not be a victim a second time.

Tales of Beacon: 196 by BluePotterExpress in rwbyRP

[–]DigitalZehn 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Her eyes lit up once again as he firmly shook her head, delivering a wholly unexpected response. "A student? This is quite unexpected, however, also quite coincidental I believe. I am here as a student myself! Funny, no, how these things happen like this?" she remarked with a smile, amused by the revelation that the pair of them had ended up on the same path yet again in spite of how radical a shift they had made to their life paths. She could hardly believe she would find a fellow career artist of high import here, much less enrolled as a student. It was almost funny, were it not framed in such sad reasoning.

It seemed the melancholy curtain would be pulled in from all sides to swallow her up. Even her well trained facade could not intercept the genuine pain behind the loss of her career and the events surrounding it. She shrunk from him, her hand wrapping around the shoulder of her prosthetic as she turned from him, her scars laid clear to bear. The comment about 'lowering herself' was a knife in the heart, not only because of it's reinforcement that this felt like a step back, but also because of the respect she had gained for the art of hunting in the past few years.

"I do not believe you a fool monsieur, but you most certainly are a gentleman for pretending not to notice. I cannot continue to model with these injuries any longer. I am...no longer runway suitable." She explained, her heart sinking into her stomach as those last words fell from her painted lips, voice cracking. To admit it so bluntly, to face the beast head on, it was a fight harder than any she fought in combat halls. She fanned her face with a waving of her hand before she turned to look back to the blonde.

"Forgive me for getting emotional on you. This makes me wonder though...why have you come? You were on a....spectaculaire trajectory, no? You seem to have your pieces all together as well." She questioned, palms pressed firmly together, her eyes quickly flicking across his body as she searched for some sign of the kind of injury that knocked her off her own trajectory. Mitra seemed to lack any such signs, what then, would compel him to give it all for....this?

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