Chuunitrixx composed herself, elegance in form, and kept the Engraved Revolver Ariamis trained on the Chapter Keepers and Chateau Staff, as they filtered in; each entering the room as they thought best. In her silence she held them in judgemental contempt; tempted to shoot them at the knee, as soon they did, and force their genuflection. In her Chapter, they were as fair game as anything else -- seen only as an optional target; something to be shot at, should it get in the way. They had named, sure, and point, to be fair, and yet...
“Heeheeheeha... Hahahaha...” she gasped, as she found herself laughing, and seated in Lady Traptrixx’s chair. How did she get there? Why was she there? It was such a comfortable, natural seating. It was delightful, in its own way. “Look at you all,” she says, her tone haughty and snide, as if she deigned to speak to them, “fussing like children at this table of adults. And, over what? Attention? Admiration? Fealty? Just what will you do?”
Chuunitrixx trained her eyes on Kath, “The Churchmouse of Dragons, so quiet and passive; unwilling to harm a soul, despite your darker side, Nothing like you, Dragon Maid,” Chuunitrixx eyed Mamoru, ‘clomping about with steel step; so lazy, in spite of your position and responsibilities. A village needs more than dutifully neatened bookcase and lazily cleaned floors.” Chuunitrixx looked over to Graft, “And, what of you, Entrepreneur? Hawk your wares? Pitch your business? So foolish. Maybe more so than you, Dread Doll," her eyes scanned over Salem, "But, so few could be more foolish than you three, Commanders of Skeletons, Goblins, and Vampires, and Beasts galore," Chuunitrixx smirkes, leaning forwards, as she turned her attention away from Vae, Gromgard, and Kaldorna, in turn, to Ashara and Aurora, "Perhaps, however, the pedigree mutts should go. Fetching things is best done by dogs, after all, and not aberrations that against the very light they are namesake," she concluded, standing up, looking right at Light.
"This wastes my time, Lord Rodias. Unlike this rabble, I need not prove my strength nor worth. I hold my position for a reason," Chuunitrixx says, looking to him; taking note of his kneel. "Upon finding you footing, you know where I will be," she pressed the call button for the elevator, "Perhaps, you'll remember why you're my best friend, and not required to kneel, in the meantime."
Boarding the elevator, Chuunitrixx pressed her floor's button, and the doors shut. As she relaxed against the wall, her mind EXPLODED with thoughts! She'd never spoken so explicitly, so unadulterated, so passionately and pointedly. Those words weren't normal to her, normal for her; her judgments were always internal, monologue, never external, with such heated nature.
It felt simultaneously liberating and terrifying -- she spoke AGAINST Rodias, and her fellows, and it felt GREAT.
She was free. She just didn't know it.
She worries, my Queen. About Us. About Me. About Him. All things, am I, does She worry over. Ever-watching. Unblinking. And yet, She blinked for a moment. All did. Unwillingly. All things blinked. And, when Our eyes did open, Our world was changed. Unaccustomed, my Queen stayed inside Me, my warmth and security. Protocol, ancient and unyielding, defends Us, We, and She; my Queen's subjects loyal and many, more than all within the hallowed walls of the Chateau Gothika. I, greatest, and most vast of all. Broodmother of my Hivequeen.
Enderall.
Now, my Queen, she worries more. About Us. About Me. About Him, most of all. I hear Her thoughts, judgments, of those below Her, in stature, power, and nature; beneath Her, in all things. Even those that stand tall before Her, are small among Her.
I feel Her doubts, Her concerns, and I am all but powerless to soothe Her, my poor, unshackled Queen...
Before Me, my Queen stands; animate, so lively, so lovely. I should note, it is not truly Me, that my Queen stands before, for I am All and Everything. Still, my Survivors are an extension of Me, and therefore, Her animated gestures are done before Me. I have never seen Her so; usually, she remains still, silent, thinking of only Myself and Him; worrying Herself ceaselessly over the safety of the whole -- never Herself. My Queen could never be so selfish, and yet, here She stands, asking me a question that I never thought I would need answer...
“Was I wrong? I spoke so pointedly, with such heat and conviction. Enderall, my most loyal of all, tell me, true, was I so wrong to feel in that moment, as I did,” my Queen asks, “Was I wrong to bore such contempt for my fellows, as they laid their honeysweet words at Lord Rodias’s feet? Was I wrong to judge them so inept, as they sought all at once, yet ununified, to tackle a situation so delicate, as that township below,” She asks, hard question after hard questions, before cast her gaze to the ground, “Was I wrong to dismiss Lord Rodias... I have never been so cruel to Lord Rodias, to my best friend...”
Questions to which, I must answer. So, through my children, I do answer. “In life, we are permitted to be wrong, my Queen,” speaks a Survivor; my words, his lips. “Everyone should know their place beneath You, my Queen,“ speaks another, her voice soothing. “Yet, even still, You may know to be humble. Are not all equal to their Lords and Ladies, if They is just?” For a moment, my Queen does consider this query of another, and her calm expression grows bright.
I fancy Her smile, as do We all.
“Enderall, prepare yourself, today is a day of mysteries and discoveries,” my Queen says, boldly and confidently. ‘Down there. Below. That village. It’s not a target of study, subjugation, or elimination!n! It exists to define us! To cast us a new lot in life!” Ne’er before have I seen my Queen so excitable.; it is infectious, truly. “To Lord Rodias, shall we go, and offer our utmost in petitioning to capture it for whatever means he’s planned of it!“
“Enderall, today, this day, here and now, we push ourselves beyond the known,” my Queen says, “Are you ready?”
Chuunitrixx rarely leaves Enderall City Corpse. Social Interactions between herself and everyone one else is likened to a junkyard dog being restrained solely by the hand that feeds; her sole task in creation was. and still is, to defend the Creators, and the Guild as a whole, as the Keeper of the Penultimate Chapter.
Due to the nature of my post, it's been suggested, by our GM, that I post last. My entire post is already drafted and formatted, I just can't post it, yet. So, there's that on my end. Lol
Guns that make mechanical sounds and loud, shoot-y noises are neither graceful nor elegant, such barbaric and low-class machinations have no place in a Throne Room of the Supreme Beings! Harumph.
Iwannabeyours,
Crusader Lord,
Restalaan,
Neziul,
Bacon