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Madam Mauve
β‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Ž
Location: Dreamland
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 3
β‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Ž

Still enveloped in a sinister dream world, Mauve squeezed her eyes shut as she fell into the abyss. Each second of her free fall felt like an eternity, each second filling her with trepidation as she awaited a painful death. Her brows furrowed slightly underneath her mask, which she was oddly still wearing, as she instead felt her feet touch something soft. Her eyes fluttered open to find herself standing in a grassy meadow. She looked around with confusion clearly written in her dark eyes. She felt her heart leap up into her throat as the shadowy figure from earlier suddenly appeared before her. She eyed the figure as he reached up to remove his hood to reveal...

"You!" she spat when she saw that it was in fact Master Plum standing before her. She hurriedly tried to search her person for a weapon. She vaguely noted that her wounds seemed to have miraculously healed themselves, though the blood still stained her dress and hands. She felt something fall into her hands, and a wicked gleam came to her eyes as she saw that it was a dagger. "Need I remind you that you're a dead man walking," she hissed, her steely gaze back on Plum. With a dagger in hand, she stalked forward. However, she felt a hand lightly grip her arm, stopping her.

"A beautiful woman such as yourself should not have to do the dirty work. Let me kill him in your stead," a familiar voice washed over her. Her gaze slowly turned to meet the dark eyes of the man in the devil mask, aka Justice Cobalt. Her head tilted slightly to the side, as if she was considering his proposition even as she let him take the dagger from her.

"I have a better idea," she finally spoke up. "Let's do it, together."


Fyror Kildragon




Location: La Canela Ship (Kitchen)
Skills: N/A


Fyror searched Miss Fontaine's countenance for any sign of wavering, any sign that this newfound knowledge was too much for her. However, she seemed to be as determined as ever, if not more so, to see this through to the bitter end. A part of him admired her for her courage, but a bigger part of him still had a gnawing sense of worry that she was going to get herself hurt, if not killed. The only life he was willing to risk in this endeavor was his own. His conscience couldn't bear anything more than that.

He nodded his head absentmindedly, as he took a few more bites of his food. He lifted his gaze from his plate as Silvio came over, sitting down with them before asking more questions. Fyror closed his eyes for a moment. With a sinking feeling, he knew that he was going to have recount the graphic details of that autopsy report that Dr. Graham had shown him. That report still haunted him. The details of the torture that Rutherford's previous wife had endured were perhaps forever etched into his brain, and the thought of the same happening to Millicent made him feel sick to his stomach.

Shifting in his seat, he seemed visibly uncomfortable as his gaze flitted between Silvio and Colette. He let out a shaky exhale, before finding his voice again. "I--after Miss Wyndham's engagement to Lord Rutherford became public knowledge, I was pulled aside by a good Samaritan, a Dr. Graham. Out of concern for Miss Wyndham's safety, he showed me an autopsy report detailing the months worth of torture Rutherford's previous wife had endured before her death," he explained, a look of pain flickering through his eyes. "It--it was horrible. Burns. Lacerations. Damage from near drownings. And the sexual abuse the woman endured--"

He had to grip the edge of the table to stop the shaking in his hands. Pain seemed to turn to anger in his eyes. "I don't know what he has on her. All I know is that, one way or another, this has to end," he remarked through clenched teeth.


Alexandra Andonova




Location: Ville au Camp - Carnival Setup (The Cooch Tent)
Skills: N/A


Alexandra's gaze followed after Rita Sue as the woman was called to the back, before looking back at Libby. This woman was certainly the less welcoming of the two. Alexandra arched a brow at her in question. Both brows then promptly shot up as Libby explained to her that this was in fact a whore tent. Two seconds later the realization dawned on her that she had just asked a whore if she needed a hand with anything. She let out a snort and looked down at the ground as she tried to conceal the beginnings of a smile.

"Wow, that one really vent over my head. Talk about embarrassing," she remarked, looking back up at her. However, the twinkle in her eye suggested that she was anything but embarrassed. In actuality, she seemed to take her blunder in stride. Alexandra eyed the woman as she gave a thrust of her hips as if to emphasize her point. The corner of her lips quirked up more. She looked around the tent, seeing it in a new light now. Her gaze eventually settled back on Libby, and she nodded her head in understanding before giving a shrug of her shoulders.

"You do vhat you have to to get by in life," she mused, before restating her earlier question. "So, is there something of the none sexual variety I can help you lovely ladies with then?"
>How I greet new characters to my WIP
Madam Mauve
β‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Ž
Location: Dreamland
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 3
β‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Žβ‰Ž

And the nightmare only seemed to get worse. Mauve could feel the sting of a blade rapidly slashing across her outstretched arm as her other hand fumbled to grab any sort of weapon on her person. Her hands were slick with her own blood, but by some miracle she managed to grasp the hilt of her dagger as the dark figure continued his onslaught. Unfortunately, just as she unsheathed it, the dark figure sliced her hand, causing her to drop it with a hiss of pain.

Nevertheless, the look in her dark blue eyes was defiant. She refused to show fear. "Bite m--" her proclamation was cut short as a scream was ripped from her lungs. The ground seemed to be ripped out from underneath her, and she felt herself rapidly falling. She grasped at air before it made contact with something. She found herself now dangling precariously off of the face of a cliff. Her fingers were barely hanging onto the edge of the precipice. She could hear the sounds of dogs barking echoing around her. Her head swam as the sheer blood loss was quickly catching up to her. Eight fingers. Six fingers. Five fingers holding her up. And then none.



But who says soft can't be strong?
- Unknown

Location: The Castle - Infirmary
Skills: N/A


Lyra's gaze turned to the infirmary door when she heard someone enter. She blinked, a bit surprised by the sudden entrance of a little girl. She was wearing the cutest little toy fairy wings, though Lyra's nose wrinkled slightly at the trail of urine that followed the young one. She looked back up at the entrance, expecting to see the girl's parents or other caretakers any minute now. The girl was too young to be running around the Castle all by herself after all. Surely someone was looking after her.

She looked down sharply, brows shooting up as the girl started yelling at her to listen. Lyra crouched down to get closer to the girl's eye level, her gaze softening despite the kid's incessant screaming. "I'm listening, little one," she spoke softly. Her lips thinned when the girl proclaimed that Amarantha said that she had to help the girl. Her gaze flitted back up to Skaoi for a moment as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. The Young Army woman was most certainly taking too much pleasure in Lyra's demotion. She soon returned her attention to the little girl, before standing up and holding out her hand. "Of course, but mind you, I do this for you and not for the commander."






Incredible change happens in your life when
you decide to take control of what you do have power
over instead of craving control over what you don't.
- Steve Maraboli

Location: The Castle - Third Corridor off the Long Walk
Skills: N/A


Tristan wandered aimlessly down the corridor. He pursed his lips as he mentally debated what to do. He was torn between searching out Princess Luna so they could hopefully talk things through and giving her the space she likely wanted and needed. He was afraid though that the longer he waited the less likely this alliance would ever happen. He knew what was at stake for his kingdom. He did. He just didn't like to dwell on it, as the weight of it was stifling. However, he knew he couldn't keep running. Running wouldn't solve anything. He needed to take control of his own destiny for once.

He let out a sigh as he came to a stop, his hands resting on his hips. The question was how did he do that? How did he convince the princess to marry him when she clearly did not want to and when she thought she was a danger to society? It was a hard question to answer, but he had to start somewhere. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a messenger rat scurrying down the hall. He suddenly lurched forward to race after it as an idea sprung into his head. "Hey, wait!" he called out.

Grabbing its attention, he stopped in front of it. "Can you please send a message to Princess Luna? I want the message to say that I--" he began, before hesitating. His brows furrowed, and he stared down at the ground for a moment as he grappled with how to word things. "I want to tell her that I wish to speak with her when she feels ready to. This alliance is very important to me and my kingdom. Many innocent people will die without it. I'm willing to make this work, if you are. I give you my word that I will remain loyal to you. Just please hear me out. End message."


Fyror Kildragon




Location: La Canela Ship (Main Deck β‡’ Kitchen)
Skills: N/A


Fyror took in a bit of a breathy inhale at Silvio's questions. He glanced over at Colette before looking back over at the man. "Well, it's sort of a long story. How much time have you got?" he attempted to joke but it mostly fell flat. He wasn't much of a jokester. I mean he had his moments. However, they were few and far between. He pursed his lips, trying to decide where to start. He figured now would be as good a time as any to lay out all the details, if only for Colette's benefit. Perhaps though, if he was honest with himself, it would also do him some good to lay out what was on his heart.

"We are on a rescue mission. A woman is in dire need of aid. The woman's fiancΓ© is sketchy at best and an extortionist--rapist--and murderer at worst," he answered Silvio but his gaze was on Colette the whole time. His demeanor was deadly serious as he looked at her, as if willing her to understand what she was truly getting herself into. He only relinquished his gaze when Silvio placed the plates in front of them. "Thanks," he stated, nodding to the man. He took a bite of the cheese, before glancing back over at Colette. His gaze was a touch softer this time. He hoped he hadn't been too blunt, but he hadn't really seen any way around it. She needed to know what they were up against sooner rather than later.
>TFW you're listening to your deceased character's playlist.
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