Avatar of Almalthia


Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Two more days to a year that I'm not supposed to be counting. The little Tom Hanks in my soul is marking days without you. Castaway on an island surrounded by an ocean of tears getting deeper daily.
6 yrs ago
Want a Slice of Life? Sol City is your ticket! Large, friendly group always room for more! roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
6 yrs ago
November 10th, 2017 4:30 pm CST. You let go and I wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. I miss you.
6 yrs ago
Two months and a week. I miss you. This sucks. Is it bad that I pretend that you PCS'd and will be back before long? Then I remember you're gone and won't be back even if I wished it. And I do. Daily.
6 yrs ago
Two months, four days. I miss you. Can't listen to Mike and the Mechanics "In The Living Years" anymore. It came on at work yesterday as the last song and I cried.


Ugh...I hate this part. So I'm super into Sailor Moon...which no one else is...and that's okay. I also really love Items, Escaflowne, Vampire Knight, Fushigi Yugi, Ah My Goddess, K Dramas, Chinese and Tiwanise Dramas as well. I torture people by making them read the TV.

Oh this is where I tell you I'm American...and I just lost a few people but oh well. Trust me if I could afford to live overseas I would. So yeah...that's me.

Most Recent Posts

Yes Vanq. Aphrodite and Psyche.

Mentions/Tags: @Pilatus

Rising from the sofa where she had been petting Shadow and Grim; who both looked put out as cats do when they know their owners are going out to do hooman things. Alese came back out of the shower then poured a shot and Chandi grinned at the thought that Alese was going to not get drunk. “So adorable that you want to commit to that. I believe you believe that. Right now in this moment.” Chandi poured herself a shot of gin and threw it back. “I hear that every time we go out. Then I hear groaning from my guest room and bargaining with a higher power and the…” She looked thoughtful. “Is it the I’m never drinking again… yes that is the line that falls from your lips every time.”

Not letting Alese really protest she took the older woman by the arm and walked her out the door. Chandi stepped into the elevator with Alese in tow. “Sheila engage the lock for apartment Chandi. My voice is my password. Secondary voice password for Alese that you have on file. If anyone else attempts entry contact authorities please.” She smirked at Alese. “Yes I am evil because you have to sing that phrase you hate. ‘Alese, Alese, the queen of the streets. She can enter the room, if she sings a sweet tune’.” Chandi’s sing-song was more on tune than Alese would have been.

As the floors shot by Chandi was smugly silent till they got to the eighth floor. Chandi tapped her wristwatch. “Jeremy inform the good ol’ boys of my plans for the evening.” Looking over at Alese she smiled. “Ready or not here we go bestie.”

Chandi’s attitude switched up the moment that the door opened to Vivian’s. A smug smile graced her lips. Her head up and back shoulders squared and the step said Who runs the world? You’re looking at her. “Milo. Excellent. Gin and tonic double with a real cherry and real lime wedge. Get that for me, pet. Oh and get us two shots of Lust, Pride and…” She tapped her scarlet lips. “oh yes Wrath from the S7s. The shots you can bring at 30 minute intervals.” She ticked off her fingers counting off what she wanted. Milo could handle it. He always did. Dependable Milo was. He had to be to keep his job. “Meanwhile Alese needs a Windy Sail with an orange, pineapple wedge and a mango curl. Curl at the bottom…” Milo looked like he was going to perspire on the way to the bar.

“Is Vixie here? Yes? Good. Tell her that the head bitch and her crony want their usual.” Milo looked like he was going to ask more questions. Chandi held up a finger to his lips. “Yes, pet, the real kind. Nothing that those crazies say tastes like the real thing. Oh and what are you out of the dress code? Put your tie and suspenders on. Ancient Roman skeeves me out. That Vico bitch thinks she is in charge. There is only one HBIC and that is me. Even Viv doesn’t play me. Go on pet. Kiss.” She presented her cheek and he kissed her on the cheek. Then he turned and she gave him a kiss on the cheek then made a gentle shooing motion to Milo as she kept Alese as an extension of herself and walked over to their booth passing the other heirs who were slumming it with the plebs.

@Silver Carrot@BigPapaBelial@Kumbaris@Thayr


Mentions/Tags: @Pilatus & @BigPapaBelial

Chandi waltzed back to the car with Alese in tow after the woman grabbed her clothes. They slid into the backseat of the car. Chandi practically stared a hole in the side of her head. When Alese finally looked at her Chandi raised an eyebrow.

The creamy pale skin reflected the neon lights of the city as they rode in the car. Chandi let the silence hang in the air and just as Alese looked like she was going to say something Chandi cut her off. “Pack? Really Al? Badge is not exactly the worst company I suppose.” Chandi leaned back and crossed her arms and looked out the side window. Her red lipstick looked liquid black in some of the lights. She sighed and gave Alese the side eye. “And what about your dad’s car? You know I'd bring it up. You should talk about it. Not right now. Later. Tonight is about fun.”

The trip to the Spire itself was short. Along the way a billboard flickered, catching Chandi's attention. Her lips twisted in thought. She had been raised to catch little things. She texted Jeremy about it and immediately that was followed by On it. as a text response.

Looking over at Alese she asked. “Did you see the billboard?” It was more of a way to fill the silence. Alese knew that and it was a testament to their friendship that Chandi said it and Alese allowed her to. Chandi said it because she needed to hear it aloud. She held out her hand for the clothes that Alese had brought with her. As she received them she studied each one. “That'll do. Though I really want to try out the fashion tabs. I'm thinking if they work on clothes that might break me into clothing design and open that up for luxury patterns. Then work on different textures in turn you'd be able to wear any pattern; including ancient art. Open source blah blah blah. It's just an experiment.”

As they moved out of the car Chandi listened to what Alese had to add, nodding while the staff of the Spire let them through. The lift to her apartment was silent and the quiet rush of the assent allowed the ladies to reflect on thoughts. Chandi waved her hand with the micro implant and the lift doors unlocked. Opening to the opulent suit lobby Chandi let Alese go ahead then turned and pressed the button to close off the lift doors from opening to this floor. The lobby had couches, a small table with chairs; everything was black and white themed and the whole room balanced perfectly. Clean, modern and utterly lacking in Chandi's personal touches.

Once past the lobby Chandi's apartment opened into a massive vast open plan kitchen living room with couches and furniture that was cat friendly. Shadow and Grim immediately started stalking and chattering at the two women and Chandi murmured back to them. “Let me take care of them while you clean up. You know where everything is.” 


Mentions/Tags: @Pilatus & @BigPapaBelial

Smiling at Alese’s utter focus on work, Chandi nodded. “I swear you would leave your head lying around if it weren’t attached.” She wiped her hands together as if clearing that thought from the air. “Well, let's see what you’re working on.” Looking around Chandi smiled at the parts and things. Something about this place calmed her. Perhaps since Alese was her best friend and had been since she was fourteen.

Walking with a purpose around the counter Chandi passed Alese with a sharp tattoo snap of her stilettos. She brushed past briskly walking to the back. Alese was always there and Chandi was sure there was something she had been working on before Chandi pulled her away. The sharp tattoo cut off suddenly. So suddenly that if Alese was following she would almost barrel into Chandi as the taller woman stepped aside with so much grace that she almost seemed to glide; to catch Alese by her arm gently. “Alese… why is there a robo stuffie…” Her eyes narrowed at the… “Honey Badger?”

Raising an eyebrow, Chandi looked at Alese. Alese was here alone? Surely that is just a bot… Chandi looked around, and yeah the shop was empty. “You know what this looks like right? If you need a good BOB I can get you one. If you buy any off the street you have no idea who has touched it. It’s new? It doesn’t look new.” If that thing was a pack member Chandi was packing Alese up and getting her away from here.

Moving closer, Chandi tapped on the mask gently. After all she needed to know that her bestie was safe. The mask felt like metal that she rarely touched anymore. She was all about the designs, not the textiles. Turning back to Alese the dismissal of the bot had her looking her friend over. “This will not do. We’re going to go haunt Vivian’s and have some fun. Come on, we still have time to get you properly attired. Yes, yes, yes and comfortable with it. Yes, yes before we get there.”

Past objections were waived away with her exquisitely manicured nails. Chandi tapped her chin. “Leather pants? Tank top? We can keep the converse but please a pair that doesn’t have stains. What do you think Alese?”

Mentions/Tags: @Pilatus

“Does the sun still actually rise or does some program turn the Earth so that we all continue to keep the illusion alive?”

That was truly the pathetic line he thought was going to inspire lust in me? Seems like nowadays no one has looks and brains. It's one or the other. Why is it that Spire men are so… uninspiring?

Lips curved as a perfectly manicured hand lifted a flute filled with a magical concoction they called a Mimosa. The selection of drinks the Salon provided all came in pretty little crystal glasses. The sip was a soundless delicate one. The fact that there was no one else in the Salon except the workers plus a tall curvy leggy redhead was not unexpected either. “Classic French polish please.”

The artist nodded and complied. There was no chit chat or conversation between the redhead and technician who was focused on his work. He was meticulous about his lines and his client, the redhead, didn't attempt to distract him with conversation; or telling him how to do his job. As he finished up the redhead said, “Your work is always flawless Raul. Nails or paintings.”

Raul inclined his head at the compliment. It was a rare thing from the lady Miss Chandrilla Jocelyn Rae Thibodaux did not often dole out praise so this was a very special occasion. “Jasper please pay the man and give him a generous tip.”

An attaché peeled himself away from the wall. He was a man you'd forget the minute he wasn't in sight. Jasper excelled at being average in all ways and invisible to everyone. He handed over cash in a hefty sum for Raul's services. Raul took it without counting it till the entourage had left; nearly having a heart attack when he did. Thankfully he did not have a heart attack but he did cry.

Walking out with her entourage, Chandi took one step in her strappy, iridescent Jymmie Choz flashing smooth, toned, creamy long legs that seemed to go at least a mile up to a jet black beaded micro mini skirt. Her top was a pale pink sweetheart neckline cropped three quarter sleeved sweater with a black bolero jacket made of silk woven with iridescent thread. The chunky buttons undone in the jacket so that it merely framed the outfit. Her red hair a flame in the sunlight as she held out her hand to have Jasper put a pair of chic sunglasses in them. “Thank you Jasper.”

The first of the piranhas that called themselves paparazzi ran around the corner as Chandi put on her sunglasses. Nodding and smiling pretty for the camera the din almost drowned out the question she finally heard. “Miss Thibodaux! Do you have any information or an opinion on the body found in the Spire?”

Stopping her banal “No comment” comments or her patronizing smirks Chandi focused on the questioner. “Why Mr. Argyle from the main news outlet; what - pray do tell - are you doing hanging around with my lovely little piranhas?” The other men chuckled. She'd had them eating out of the palm of her hand since she could coo.

“Boss put me on a gossip rag.” He hung his head.

A dark deep throaty chuckle came from Chandi and more than a few of the men stood straighter, sweated a little, went glassy eyed with arousal or all of the above. “Welcome to my little school. Give Jasper your contact information and we will inform you of all my public movements and you can come to what you wish. Everyone here knows that I do interviews on my time, not yours and if you behave yourself then you might get one. Honestly your boss did you a favor. Ask any of these gents and they will tell you they live better than your average newscaster… on air.” She smirked and pointed to Jasper as she pivoted to leave her stilettos tapping out a steady tattoo to the car that she'd used from her flat to the Salon. She'd done her duty. The warning was there just wrapped up nice and pretty. Flat out saying, stay the fuck away from me and mine only made it harder to get them to go away.

Getting to the car Chandi pulled out her phone texting her parents that she was on her way. She thought about sending one to Alese but the thought of scaring her best friend was too tempting.

After a nice meal with her parents they went to work and she tossed around ideas for a new look. The department heads nodded and took notes to take to the associates to start writing the code. She left them at 4 PM with the plethora of designs that she had dropped off earlier in the week.

Getting in the car she put up her sunglasses. “Alese’s work Max.”

“Yes Miss.”

The chauffeur pulled up to the shop and Chandi swung out putting her sunglasses back on as she walked into the shop. “Alese dearest are you still not done yet?” Chandi came up to the counter. “Jasper you know the drill you’re off for the day.” Chandi handed him money to get home.
@TheNoCoKid No worries. I have another concept I can toss at you. I just figured with the year being WAY beyond what normal Cyberpunk is set at just thought I might toss in a character that is normal in a tabletop setting.

@Wayward Thank you for taking the time to do a breakdown of your opinion on my character. Ideally that is the GM or Co-GMs job but I appreciate you took the time out of your day to give opinions. It means you read it and even though nothing was really constructive in any way I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you didn't really mean to come off as a condescending jerk. Which you did, but again I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that it wasn't meant that way cause ya know text. Hard to read inflection and all that jazz. Much appreciated that you took the time to read it.


The lands surrounding Riverrun

The clatter of hooves and the rolling of wheels filled the air as a procession of nearly a dozen carts and four times as many men worked their way up the muddy road. Warrior Sons and Septons by the look of them with a handful of sellswords on horseback following the man in the lead. The children of House Tully knew all too well, Gynn Tully, regularly visiting over the years bringing presents and good cheer whenever he arrived. Yet he wore a dour look as he looked over the sellswords at his side gesturing for them to ride on ahead and alert Riverrun of their coming arrival.

The more horses bringing up the rear as the wagon train passed along the road to Riverrun, the sigil of the Septs painted upon each wagon. In addition to the drivers, guards, more sat within the wagons and septons and acolytes included. The full train when it arrived would reveal around seventy total and whatever cargo they might be carrying as well. While normally their uncle arrived with plenty to give this was... Different, the look of concern and fear on some of the men of the cloth's faces could cement that alone.

Stopping along the road, he produced a wineskin and took a long drink. He had to ask for a favor from his brother... What a day this was going to be. Of course should any of his kin spot him they might want a word with the wayward scion of the House who brought so many strangers to their door. Or the children might want their presents, he had of course made sure to bring something for them all.

They had talked of the inconsequential matters that drove Abigael mad. She'd much rather discuss the things that her brothers, particularly Prentys and his sanctimonious wife, refused to discuss with her. She sighed with relief. “Finally past all the boring bits." She glanced back quickly toward her brothers and leaned closer to Bertrand. “Truthfully no wonder every male thinks every woman doesn't have brains. Those subjects are trite. I, however, am bursting to know more about what that man told us before you came upon us."

Looking at Bertrand she wondered if he'd pat her on the head and tell her that she shouldn't worry her pretty head about such things. “Tell me Bertrand, excuse me Lord Bertrand," Abigael blushed at her familiar form of address. “Have you ever come across anything about a Three Eyed Raven?" Abigael’s voice was pitched low so that only Bertrand could hear her.

Bertrand Tyrell blinked at the Tully girl with the pretty face and the fearless spirit, “Three-Eyed Raven?" He tried to remember lessons from Septons and Maesters, but it all just blurred in his mind’s eye in that moment. “No," he admitted, finally, shaking his head gently, “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it, my Lady. Why do you ask?"

“It was something that man had said before he left. He also talked about dead Lannisters and Lannisters that were believed to be dead. Dragons, riots, large hosts that march for Kings Landing. Where you just came from." Abigael shook her head in wonderment and went on. “He talked about the High Marshall but he wasn’t clear on that. Two conflicting tales. It was… odd. I wanted to know more but he left." Abigael laid her hand on his arm and bit her lip. “I wouldn’t want to spread rumors but since you are her brother I thought you would wish to know. I was unable to verify the information fully, you understand, I was told she could be dead or lost. Truly I, for selfish reasons, don’t wish you to leave but I understand if you need to be sure of the information."

Gynn turned his horse as the wagons rolled on and started up the road yet again as he rode along a familiar shock of red hair, next to a boy he did not readily know. So coming alongside the pair he slowed his horse. “Now what’s a nice girl like you doing on a muddy filthy road like this?" Gynn cracked a smile, as moved along, coming into view of Abigail as the wagons he was escorting moved along. “My, my you get bigger every time I see you, more radiant as well. I ought to bring you to Old Town one of these days, make all the fancy ladies of the Reach jealous."

The click of horses hooves echoed against the silence of Prentys’s deep frown. For all that he approved that Abigael find herself a worthy husband? This upstart from a House of Stewards. Unworthy. It was a light to his dismal day to see their uncle. Letting his horse move up, he inclined his head to the man. “Uncle, it is a pleasure to see you. Apparently, Abigael has taken to showing Ser Bertrand Tully about her haunts." His gaze looking disapprovingly at his sister.

Bensen, found taking up something of the rear of the little group which had ridden along the way, was otherwise occupied away from the talk between Abi and the Lord Bertrand. Once he had realized precisely her angle, and the ceaseless goings-on about this and that and the other, things that…altogether Bensen did not know much about, nor know if the Lord knew about, he had drifted out and away from the conversation. Bits and pieces of that was all he picked up, though the back of his mind nagged at him. The young Tully couldn't help but find disapproval at her ventures, all things considered…it'd be alike he becoming smitten with some Kingsland matron, save that Abi didn't endure the jeering and forthright disapproval which he knew would strike against him.

Sucking on his tooth, the Tully had taken good notice of the convoy led by their Uncle. Did they know the same as the Lord Bertrand, that ill things had happened? That Maegor had returned to claim what he wished? Would it altogether be proper for him to freely voice the question, or remind the people why they went along in such a somber march by his wonderings aloud? Bensen sucked on his tooth some more, adjusted himself in his saddle. Perhaps it wasn't. It wasn't necessarily his question to ask, in any case. No, instead he urged his horse on just a little while, up and nearer to Prentys and Gynn. Nodding, with perhaps too small a smile which grew as he spoke, the young Tully greeted with a, "Uncle. If you brought her to Old Town she would surely turn pious Septs into men worthy for the Summer Isles with her liberties. Who would toll all the bells?"

Bertrand Tyrell stared at the words.

In his mind, the night replayed: he had been drunk…although he had always been drunk then. It wasn’t a compulsion; their mother had made it clear it wouldn’t have broken her heart so much had that been the case. Had Bertrand just been a drunkard, that she could have understood, she said, standing before the hearth in their solar, screaming at him.

”You were not a hateful boy, Bertie. This is NOT who you are."

He tried to apologize. She slapped him, then slapped him again, then pointed at his sister, with the skin of her face blackened already, her lip cut, her dress half-torn, her neck bruised from his hand where he held her down and choked. Then Lady Bethany slapped him again. He felt as if he might cry, but he didn’t. His mother had been wrong, because that night he did hate, and it was a true, hot hatred.

It just wasn’t Vittoria he had hated…it was himself.

Lord Theo had been the last person left in that room, besides himself, and only at the very end, just before leaving, did Lord Theo take a long, last, drink and say anything at all, “Touch your sister again, and I’ll kill you. You leave for King’s Landing tomorrow."

It wasn’t the last time he’d seen her. He saw her later that night, without their parents knowing, when she had come to him in a meeting that had left him broken. A red flame in the King’s new city had helped him find the part of him he had lost that dark night in Highgarden. But even placed back together as he was, he couldn’t help but think of that night, or the letter that followed.

So, he just stared at Abigael as if she’d hit him, but the shock of it left him seeing the face of Abigael Tully, not Vittoria Tyrell, not Bethany Tyrell, not a friendly flame, but the Lady before him now…like he hadn’t seen her before.

“I have to go back. I should have gone back, already, but I wanted to do this for her. I wanted to do something for her. I knew Dennet would see it through, Dennet would walk through the ruins of Valyria if she asked him, but I wanted to—I needed to help, because it was important to her."

A sigh escaped him like a little prayer, his brown eyes finding the horizon, before returning to her, his mouth daring a smile upon the sight of her, “I’m a different man than I was, and I owed it to her…but I can’t leave now. This is my path, and it has brought me to you. So tell me, Abigael, where does your path lead?"

Watching the thoughts run across Bertrand’s face was the most ensorcelling thing Abigael had seen. She heard her Uncle from far away and she responded to favorite people with automatic motions, her eyes not leaving Bertrand. Something that had never happened. She had always favored these men before all others and stacked them against each one in her mind and none had come close to holding her attention. None until Bertrand.

He was so different from all the others. So intense. “Bertrand…I…don’t believe that anyone has ever really asked me that. And I don’t believe I have thought past the fact that I would be married to someone and make his life easier. I don’t have the great head for military strategy. I know my strengths and I would hope that my husband would compliment them and need them. I would like to think my path is to be equally as valuable as my husband." She leaned in. “I know it is not a…all that common opinion. Please don’t think less of me for it. I would also hope there was at least some affection in the match." She blushed and looked down, peering at him from beneath her lashes.

It’d been so long, Bertie had almost forgotten what it was like to smile the gentle smile of relief and happiness, “I don’t know that I could think more of you in this moment," or, he thought, feel a greater affection than this. “Let’s get back to Riverrun, and talk?"
Abigael couldn’t help the smile that graced her features, truly engaging her whole heart, and truly brightened them from classically beautiful to radiant. Such smiles were typically reserved for her family so seeing one outside of the family was unheard of and ironically Bertrand and the Reachmen did not realize how special this moment was.

Nudging his horse closer, the multicolored mare gave a shake of her head as if to confirm his order as it came alongside Prentys. “She’s free to show around the lordling from the flower planters, after all the boy is a guest. Careful though Abi, don’t go sewing seeds." He frowned a moment then at Bensen’s comment his grin returned. “Bah, the Septons would not know what to do with a woman even less than a Maester would, even fewer probably know what they look like in the flesh!" The older Tully clapped Prentys on the back with a hearty laugh that creased his face with a smile. For a man their family rarely ever called upon he brought nothing but smiles and gifts.

“We’ve got things to discuss when I get in but... First things first, what’s it been three? Four years since I was last here to see you lot? I’ve got presents, gifts, and stories for you sprouts. Since our good Lord Paramount will no doubt have something else to do when we get in we’ll gather up all you to help with the wagons... And then we can see about those gifts, unless you are all too high and mighty to help an old man unload after a hard journey?" He spoke, gib and relaxed, working to put the children as he saw them at ease. He would not burden them yet with his fears and worries, he was their uncle first... The General could wait to speak his piece later.

There was a distinct cough as Prentys rode up alongside the two lovebirds. Their twittering was as obvious as his wife’s pious nature. “Dearest Sister, if you would perhaps disengage yourself from your flippant discussion to the fact we are being visited by our esteemed uncle?" His voice was dry enough to have replaced the scene of the Riverlands for Dorne. “Ser Bertrand is welcome to join us," The silent so long as he were to behave hung in the air. Leaning closer to his sister he spoke in a undertone of great disapproval. “Sister you throw yourself at him as a common woman. You are of House Tully."
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