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[url=https://image.ibb.co/dNUXEH/Leaza.jpg][h3]☠[/h3][/url][/center]

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[color=8882be][sub]“Her name is [i]Ribbit…[/i]”[/sub][/color]

She loomed large over the spiderling, eyeless gaze piercing its entire being as it had taken back its soul-filled, stitched together, and tasty monstrosity. A slight tilt of her head she had taken as the spiderling’s gaze swept over the Lady’s imposing and incredible form; much awe held in its shiny, shiny eyes.

Now this was the proper greeting fit for an ancient. Reverence pure and simple.

The spiderling had done all the right things. Polite. Respectful. Demure in her presence. Eyes lowered, yet voice as even as possible. Humble to be certain. This awkward and rhyming weakling even had the audacity to even call her by what she demanded and then some. It had referred to her as: She of the  Crossing. Quaint it had not referred to her as the ‘Angel of Death,’ yet surprisingly satisfactory. But best of all it had given her an [i]offering.[/i] Oooooohhhh… but how ever did this little creature know her so well, darling…?

Rather lightened up now, the Lady had worked the offering through her gauntlets with strange and eiery dexterity and care so as to not shred the offering with a single razor fingertip. Even after the full inspection, Lady Leaza had no idea what the thing was even supposed to be. This did not look like a killing implementation, but one thing of it she knew for certain; it had a power to it. Faint as it was, it was still sooooooooo familiar and yet, She of the Crossing had no inkling of what that power was. Sooooooo familiar… and such an offering. Intriguing…

And then the coup de grace of the interaction; the spiderling had politely excused itself from her magnificent presence, and, graciously bowed at her poignant grace. If the faceless cowl could reveal the mouth-gaped-open expression of the Ancient.

[color=8882be]“And a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Mr. Ozzy Strings…”[/color] a flowing curtsey and drawn out bow she gave, so respectful and yet so final at the same time.

Pity it had wandered off so soon. The  Lady Leaza was utterly flattered and in such a state, she would be ripe to place an easy-breezy bargain. If there was a flaw in this Ancient, abyssal-hardened diamond, little did the spiderling know, it had been exposed. Oh but alas, the most opportune moment would pass but quick.

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The Rock Whisperer had been so gracious in his response to She of the Crossing, as was expected and desired by She of the Crossing herself.  Oh, but she knew he would down play what the near-Mortals here thought of him, but at least he did know that there was some semblance of respect for him. But true enough, rock did not get enough attention. 

Leaza herself did glean much information about rock and its killing prowess through all those long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, loooooooooooooong, loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong lectures Edgar had hosted over time. And it would be a lie to say that the Lady did not realize the sheer amount of time it took to stay seated and listen to The Rock Whisperer’s lectures, but this realization gave the ‘Angel of Death’ nuance and the need to change. Because of the time devoted to endure such lectures, Lady Leaza had to recruit minions to do her work in her stead. This would account for all the ‘near-death experiences’ or ‘beyond the grave’ experiences so many had been through over time. Had she been the one at hand, those experiences would never exist;  She of the Crossing would never be so sloppy.

And so she had nodded at the offer to sit in on one of the Ancient male’s  long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, loooooooooooooong, loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong lectures once more. As he had inspected the statues she had interacted with the spiderling. And once he made certain of what she had suspected all along about the statues, the utterly flattered state of being she suffered from ceased to be instantaneously.

[color=8882be][i]“Not dead, not alive…they aren’t stone… somehow both more and less…”[/i] [/color]she had muttered back the words Edgar had spoken. Those that had been turned to stone were truly cheating death.[color=8882be] “then we shall alleviate them from this state of ‘bubbly rock’ then shall we, darling[/color]…?”

In a state of Bubbly rock. Even the terms mocked Death itself. She of the Crossing would not have it.

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Lily had assumed too much to speak to Lady Leaza in such a manner. Who was this little fae to tell an Ancient where an Ancient was or was not welcome? Who was this little fae to tell an Ancient what disrespect was and assume what kind of influence the ‘Avatar of Death’ held anywhere in the Tangle. And [i]‘Avatar…?’[/i] That was a new one. Quaintly quaint, darling... Oh and but who was this little fae to say what or what not would make the Gobb—[i]the Obsidian Idol[/i] happy…? Did the little fae know such answers to things that it could never fathom nor did it even matter to it in the very, very, very basic of base reasons? 

Oh, and then the spores. Did this little fae have any clue? Did it not know it was simply outclassed just like an insignificant fly versus an illustrious dragon. A simple wave of her hand sliced the very air around her, sparing her of being touched by those mere green motes of insignificance. Spores of paralysis were they? The Lady had no time for trivial near-Mortal tricks. 

And it was here where she should have noticed the [i][b]miniature hole[/b][/i] neath the spot where the miniature Gobb-[i]the Obsidian Idol[/i] was perched for obsidian eternity.  But no, she did not notice such a clue, for just like Crow, she too was distracted by something other than flattery for once. Lady Leaza was actually annoyed. The eyeless gaze from the pitch of her cowl followed the fair fae as it flitted on over to the others. A bit too sweet. A bit too alive. Oh, how much desire oozed from She of the Crossing as she evaluated the half-deadness of little spry Lily? Oh you just wait and see… just you wait and see, darling…

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It was here where Mr. Crow broke the Angel of Death’s… well… as redundant as it was, it was still the Angel of Death’s drop-dead, deadly, deathly glare that had been broken. Lady Leaza turned upon hearing her noted as ‘Magnificence…’ Oh but such a term to wrap her presence with…! 

With several nods, and a taloned gauntlet tapping at where a chin should be in that abysally black space in her cowl, the Lady listened in. True, only a few should be permitted here at night, and true, there may be those who were ignorant, and aye, those who would help orchestrate such tragedy and chaos. But the two names Mr. Crow tossed out there seemed to be neither ignorant nor capable of orchestrating such tragedy and chaos by their lonesomes. 

[color=8882be]“Aye then, Mr. Crow, plumage so dark and fine,”[/color] she said at once with some finality to her voice,[color=8882be] “we shall take to the presence of these two: [i]Hare and Jackdaw.[/i] Interview one right after the other, shall we. For if in fact they are collaborators to this… this unprecedented ‘event’ then they shall not have time to corroborate their alleged stories then once spoken to in quick succession. 

I do however have my doubts to they as suspects… but as much as I doubt, they too may find us as suspicious and hold us as suspects as well. SO!”[/color]

In a not so unobvious fashion she, motioned over to where the flitting spry fae was located and not very inconspicuously pointed at the flitting spry fae, [color=8882be]“So. Perhaps then the [i][b]more insignificant[/b][/i] of you could start by flitting about and finding more clues as to what happened here? You see, the [b][i]less significant[/i][/b] the near-Mortal, the more they will notice the [b][i]insignificant[/i][/b] things that may actually turn up to be rather significant clues.[/color] 

[color=8882be]“So basically what the Lady is saying is: make use of our time and be thorough in our immediate investigation before the [i]more significant of us[/i] interview Blue Hare and the Custodian. How do we fancy that course of action, darlings? Aye. Brilliant. I thought so. Very well. Make it so then… so says the Lady…”  [/color]

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