Emotions were a powerful and fickle thing; able to induce great strength, and inflict great weakness, in equal measure. Of the Emotional Pantheon, Anger and Fear were equals and opposites - able to cancel each other in extremes, and invoke the strongest physical responses. As everyone crowed around Alice, her fear only mounted - she'd only been able to handle Takeshi due to needing to replenish her Energy, and him being acceptably close.
He was a snack.
A fling, in Human terms.
Arguably enjoyable, but nothing that she would take seriously - at least, emotionally. A consistent snack was a good thing for someone that drained Magic as recklessly as she did.
However, she needed a feast...
"Ey, mad boi. There's plenty more of those basket 'eads that we need to bash their heads in, you in?"
Mad?
Gringor's voice cut down her fear of the crowd, effortlessly, and extended a hand to allow her anger to surface.
She wasn't mad.
Far from.
She was hungry.
She needed something filling.
Someone filling.
Like a switch flipped, her tears dried and her shakes ceased; replaced by a narrowed gaze, and an amused smirk.
"You'll more than suffice," Alice says, with a strange edge to her softness - like a predator speaking to her prey.
Stepping forward, Alice made the same dipping motion she had days ago, and cast part of the spell that set her behind Gringor - however, the plume of flame never came. Instead, it was replaced by her soft, silken fingers running lazy circles around his pectorals; fingertips coming to rest at the sensitive center, before sliding down to his navel, and ending with a dip below the belt.
"Such a hard body, yet soft in the wrong place," Alice purred, fingers sinking lower. "Tempted to have that rematch, now. See which of us winds up on their back first, straddling the other in control..."
Anyone with half a brain could understand the innuendo beneath the veil of aggression.
Mind, its Gringor that will be interacting with the group.
I have zero issue there. Alice might "accidentally" replace "Gringor" with "Heavenly Strike Target", but they've got an interesting dynamic, and I'm more than curious what his reaction is.
I agonized over this post for, like, the last three hours - writing and rewriting, revising bits and pieces. But, there's Scarlett's formal introduction of her personality - internally and externally.
ATTN:@AzureKnightScarlett closed her eyes, sharpening her sense of hearing, as she listened to everyone speak and debate - personally and professionally - before she drifted through the crowd, and was suddenly in front of Ruecian. Underneath her hoodie, her eyes glowed with the faint light of the Abyss that seeped in her soul; this light was neither Hope nor Salvation, but entrapped in the Abyssal Void, like that of a black hole. It was the little that remained of the woman she was once, and all that kept her sane.
"Pathetic..." she says, simple, impactful - her first impression, of both him and him of her. "Making such bold statements, backed up by another, and your stoicism but you stink," Scarlett says, "You reek of worry, defensiveness, and fear - concern; misplaced and dangerous," she wrinkled her nose, "Is she not a Reaver? Denying someone her due, because of the risk, when that is the job..."
Scarlett tilted her head back at Evelyn, "You stink the same. All your bluster and pomp, yet you cower and kneel at the lilt of a harsh tone. Are you not your own keeper? Do you not manifest your own destiny? Can you not speak for yourself? Or, are you no better than a leashed and beaten wolf, submissive and tamed, servant to a master you never chose?"
Shifting her attention to Roze, Scarlett’s earlier born animosity towards her was visually evident, even if the shadows of her hoodie exposed only the faint glow of her eyes. "And you, If this mission is such a risk to newcomers, then it is a failure of your administration that it is an option in the first place," she says, "Even worse, if this was a test of sensibility or maturity, it is a cruel one to place before someone that desperately wishes to prove themselves worthy of their title."
Scarlett glared at Ruecian and Roze, as if challenging them to refute, even if her own challenge was uncalled for, unwarranted, and unnecessary; a Beast did not care about such Human ideals, like politeness and turning a blind eye. It confronted, accessed, and formed a solution - no matter the outcome. Scarlett didn’t need to be liked, but she wouldn’t tolerate the march of progress being impeded over petty things like Death.
Such was a bridge she had long crossed... or, perhaps, was still crossing without end..
Regardless, she made a decision, as she looked away from the two powerhouses she'd dressed down in a public forum, "Humans stand as the Apex Predators. Beasts should be made to understand their place. I’ll lend my talents to reset the Balance between Man and Mer..."
Though the report request asked to levy a firm, but gentle hand upon the Makara to drive them back to their ancient nesting grounds, it was clear that Scarlett would opt to overpower and overwhelm until victory was hers - such was the nature of her insidious combination of Alchemy, empowered by Void Magic.
"I assume this place has a library," Scarlett says, "Until we are to depart for the mission, that is where I will be. Better to learn something of what I am facing than rush in blindly. Alchemy may be a form of Magic laden with mistakes, but this is not a laboratory where that is excusable..."
Taking her leave, Scarlett would seek out the library or some similar repository of general and specific knowledge.
{That was quite the grandstand you did.}
{Such overburdening displays of power, personal and professional, disgust me. Those with power should aid and teach, and not hinder due to emotion.}
{Is that true? Do you think so lowly of your administrators?}
{Lower. To cower before another is truly pathetic. However, I think higher of the witchling than the Belua, and the witch that aided him.}
{I can feel your hatred of them... but, is that the Beast or the Human?}
{Both, maybe. I don’t like to be hindered, any more than It likes to be impeded.}
{You are such an interesting subject...}
{You are more talkative than normal.}
{So are you. In the course of a year, you never spoke more than just now.}
{I had reason. Shavis is not interesting enough to hold long-form conversation with. Her Spirit, mayhaps, but he deigns not to speak with me.}
{That’s quite the strong opinion over someone that was your caretaker.}
{Assigned. By pure chance. I could have been assigned to be anyone’s pet, and I would have likely played the same placid role.}
{Even if you had been assigned to the womanizer and his hopelessly faithful woman?}
{...perhaps not. I would have likely eaten him, and her - for my safety, not her sake. Neither seems strong, but they are both Fae.}
{Of course. But, what of the insectoid Belua or the graying gunner?}
{I don’t think I could tolerate someone I couldn’t speak to, and I doubt the gunner can take care of more than himself. Neither seem very personable, either.}
{Such low opinions! Ohohoho! You are amusing, little princess.}
{Shut up! Don’t you have better things to do than play Twenty Questions!?}
{You are my “better things to do”. Come, come. Let’s address the rest of the cast, shall we? What do you think of them? The Espers? The Swordsman? The Thunder Witch? The Bishie? The Alchemist? I’m curious.}
{And, I’m not! Why should I worry myself about those that mean nothing to me!? I don’t wish to think of them beyond what they can do to facilitate my goals!}
{The goal of dying, repenting with your life for what you did?}
{...}
{Don’t burn all your bridges yet. You might need allies.}
{...}
Before Scarlett could truly think of a retort, or even a reply, the malevolence that funded her power terminated the connection. It was a one-sided affair, as the Maiden Abyss chimed in whenever she chose, but never allowed the reverse. Scarlett was barely in control of her own body, mind, and very soul.
However, she wouldn’t apologize. At least, not to Ruecian or Roze. She meant what she said, and she said what she meant. Honesty, after all, was the best policy, so they say.
...but, maybe, she could apologize to Lapis, at least - in private, of course - for publicly dressing down her friends and brother.
No problems on my end. Just debating on the next step for Alice. If anyone wants to interact with her again, before I post, lemme know. I probably won't work on a post until Sunday coming. Busy weekend of work and Pokemon Violet.
Sorry about the late post. Hopefully, it offers a good platform for others to interact with Alice and start integrating her into the taskforce and out of her mushroomy shell.
Awakening, slowly, but fully, Alice would come to - the underlying aura of the other power fading - and look around. Takeshi's departing pat to the head would bring her into the scene in full.
She was surrounded.
Encircled.
Entrapped.
Shaking, Alice raised Carroll, as the Cursed Blade creaked - his jaw forming in the Mundane state he'd been in. "Danger. Close. Targets. Food. Feed." Jerkily, the Cursed Blade spoke and moved; twisting Alice's left arm like a leashed beast, chomping at the bit for his chance. Alice stepped backwards, and tried to find a place to get out of the crowd, and the imaginary prison of social introversion.
Stumbling backwards, Alice fell into a familiar striking stance, but froze up - too many people were looking - they'd judge her, if she messed up - laugh at her and call her names behind her back.
Quivering, Alice would tear up, as her anxieties took over; creeping into thoughts from the desperately reclusive mushroom that crept through her body and mind. Tear-filled eyes scanned the smiling faces, twisting and perverting them into sneers of mockery and contempt. They were pointing; laughing; taunting her for her weakness before and now. Despite the power she demonstrated before Takeshi, there was a clear divide between that sealed personality, and the sheltered woman before the taskforce.
Carroll was growling like a wild beast, straining his restraints; his parasitic mass reaching further up Alice's left side; encroaching upon her neck and jaw. However, before the Cursed Blade could do anything dangerous, the Mad Hatter would "sheath" him inside her coat, and pull her hat down - hiding behind it.
"Go away..."
Her voice was small, so small; terrified and sob-stricken