[u][center][h2]Marianne Delacroix[/h2][/center][/u]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/Jr0Uu63.png?1[/img][/center]

Marianne halted in her tracks when she heard Sult call after her, warning about a potential danger that she had yet to see or perceive herself. She turned, just about to thank her comrade when her...twin decided that now was the best time to invoke her wrath. As she stood listening, she couldn't believe her ears. Did the 'other Sult' sustain a traumatic head injury? Or did they truly and honestly believe someone as prideful as Marianne would let such insults be spoken in such a mocking tone? Her jaw setting, she tightly clenched her fists as she let the 'other Sult' spew out their honest thoughts and feelings. Letting them get it all out before she acted. She hated herself for allowing herself to become angered so easily, to lose her cool. It wasn't becoming of her. But, that was part of the reputation she earned for herself back home. Kind and compassionate to all, until given reason to act otherwise. Her fury matched only by her eldest brother [i]Paul[/i], and the Goddesses have mercy upon your soul if you were in their path. Then, she took action.

There was a flash of light.
A metallic ringing, vibrating musically in the air.
If one blinked, they would've missed it.

But, as a true testament to Marianne's ability, she had drawn her sword and had its flat pressed against the 'other Sult's' neck.
Right where the carotid artery lay, under only a thin layer of skin and muscle that if cut spelled one's death within mere seconds.
Marianne's eyes stared straight into the "other Sult's", an intense and passionate fire burning behind her dark-brown eyes. Her body and face mere inches from theirs. How far away had she been? How fast exactly had she moved? No matter the details, Marianne could've ended whomever this person was in the fractions of seconds they had taken to so much as breathe. It was clear, Marianne hid some of her true skill and ability from her comrades. Or was it out of want to preserve herself in combat?

For a few tense moments, Marianne remained like that. Her mana furiously crackling and snapping in the form of visible electrical arcs all across her body and throughout her now levitating hair. Biting and stinging at the fool that dared speak ill of the Delacroix and of their ways. After having asserted herself and made her stance clear on how she felt about what was said, she finally broke the silence. Never once blinking or breaking her gaze away from the idiot as she spoke.

[b]"Speak ill of we Delacroix again and you shall have more to worry about than reanimated corpses, as those words will be your last. To lay unfinished on your tongue as you join these undead legions."[/b]
Marianne's tone of voice taking on a certain coldness unlike any had ever heard her use.
[b]"As I can see, you do not carry the title of Iron Rose. Possibly due to being unworthy of the honor. As such you are no ally of mine, though you fight alongside us. I will [i]not[/i] hesitate to strike you down if given the reason to. I hold no allegiance to you, whoever you are."[/b]
Marianne leaned in closer to drive home her message.
[b]"My title [i]Tet de la Croix[/i] is not to be taken lightly. True leaders stand at the front, so know this. Lead, follow, or get out of [i]my[/i] way."[/b]

Taking a few steps back, her erratic mana calmed as she removed her sword from the "other Sult's" neck. Sheathing it in a more formal and [i]traditional[/i] manner as if to say that it was [i]tradition[/i] and mastered old practices that gave her the upper hand in what could've been an instant execution for such horrendous speech. Marianne would not stand for such a thing. Tossing her long mane of dark hair over her shoulder, she then turned her head and spat off to the side. To rid herself of the bitterness as she continued to walk. Her tone then taking on its usual softness, she looked over her shoulder at the Sult she knew and smiled.

[b]"Thank you for the warning, Dame Sult. Though, do explain. What numbers do not add up?"[/b]
Marianne thanked her, carrying on as if the little 'incident' was beneath her. Any more consideration and time taken up by such, unnecessary.