@Hexaflexagon Verse: Many noblewomen would look at Verse with contempt and hateful disgust for being what she was. Trist is not one of those women. Verse is who she is simply by the nature of a series of decisions outside the reach of her own will. There is nothing more, and nothing less to such a story; or, that’s what Trist likes to think. Be that as it may, Trist is no fool, and only fools harbor no fears for the things that can shred them to pieces. She has known thugs, thieves, spies, killers, and soldiers; their hardened ilk is often best left alone.
@Drunken Conquistador Saga-Hanir: Of all the curiously assorted members of their little legionary band, Hanir reminds Trist the most of the noblemen of Ravenwood and Ravenwood itself. He’s the only one who, thus far, has gotten anything closely resembling a friendly conversation. She can touch the surface of a refined discussion revolving around the finer arts: poetry, art, music, and more. Trist isn’t all that thrilled about his superior noble mentality, but at the same time finds it difficult to admit that Hanir’s out-of-place attitudes among the soldiers amuse her, and even make her crack the lightest of smiles.
@Iuniper Aeudla Vesnat: Like an unopened crate that shakes with life; it might be a cute puppy, or a ravenous blood sucking beast. A fractured soul divided in many places. There’s a beauty in Aeudla’s blood magic that Trist does not ignore, but the elf’s apparent addiction to her abilities are concerning. Unlike Aeudla, Trist does not connect herself to her blood magic and is quite capable of going days, weeks, and months without having to use it if it weren’t for the war she’d been fighting. Such raw and natural skill with blood cannot, however, go unnoticed. And, the elf is the only one among them who makes Trist feel unease so strong she forces herself to become impenetrable.
@neogreggory Arthur Wick: Arthur is like old stone. He stands tall and hard, proud in the face of weathering time. Few noblemen that Trist has known still hold to the ideals of honor Arthur binds himself to. For that, he has her silent respect. But, Trist recognizes his worn and ragged face to be an outward reflection of the his state of being; a stone, battered by the unceasing forces of time. How much longer before he breaks, or will he simply wither away into cold apathetic nothingness?
@Virgil Myaenthar’Sul: Not a single word has been uttered from her to the Kobold. Their single exchange was likely a cold glance, and nothing more. Most simply believe Trist gives him the usual unfriendly demeanor everyone else confronts. However, Trist does not look down upon him nor does she bully him around like many higher races are apt to do when goblins or kobolds are around. Sul should not worry about her icy disposition, after all the soldiers are positively immaculate in their scholarly founded assessment of her: “She’s a right proper cunt.”
@Tancuras Reika: Cursed warriors and their stupid honor. Must every man measure the size of their cock with another? It’s for men like Reika that Trist momentarily revels in the existence of Andrea to temper the extensive vices attached to male ego. Luckily, and hopefully, these opinionated outbursts remain within the white haired sorcerer’s mind. Though, perhaps Trist ought to tell Reika to his face that he is a dull brute with a brain the size of a single sand grain. Then, maybe her frustrations with his contrasting nature would burn out.
@Lexicon Magatha Toil: Mags’ skillful evasion of mages evokes Trist’s memories of a wandering magician entertaining the Ravenwood court with dazzling tricks. Poof, the bird disappears, and Mags was much like that bird; if Trist appeared, the Godling vanished. Trist should be offended, but she’s grown numb to the daunting list of names and insults the countless hurled her way for the severe crime of her appearance, and being a blood mage too. Even if she were to try and be friends with the girl, what would she say? “You kill mages wonderfully.” Nope, the ability to make female friends is ever elusive for Tristanya. Handling a man was quite simple, that’s why whorehouses existed (though Trist was far more refined than that), but dealing with a woman was akin to putting together a puzzle where at least five of the pieces do not fit but are actively screaming that they do.
@Athinar Andrea Albane: Above the neck, Andrea reminds Trist of the ladies at court. That thought amuses her, because Andrea seems more likely to decapitate a woman for stepping on her foot during a dance than actually try on a dress. This idea eliminates Andrea as a potential woman chosen to comb or cut her hair. Tristanya quite likes her throat to remain un-sheared. Other than Trist’s theoretical musings, she’s keenly aware of Andrea’s disdain for her being. It’s not new to her, and it’s better kept that way. Did Trist truly require a sword-swinging lunatic raving about “the good fight” hanging about everywhere she turns? By the Old Gods, she’d be ducking her head every five seconds.
@Dogematix Marcus Vantiri: Finally, a breath of originality amongst hardened killers. She suspects Marcus doesn’t like her very much, men like him often don’t. He’s more like the common man than high-handed knights of esteemed nobility, and for that she feels relief. It probably came as a great shock when he cracked a comment at her expense in front of the men, only for the supposedly indifferent, noble, haughty white witch to respond in kind.
