Status

Recent Statuses

4 mos ago
Current To my people: I LIVE! I have been incredibly overworked for the past month (3 jobs plus a summer class’ll do that) but while I’m still busy I’m also excited to write! Poke me if you need me!!
1 like
5 mos ago
"Weel Ray, there were these things called "dinosaurs," and when they died, they turned into oil (somehow) and that's what your car uses for food."
1 like
5 mos ago
help help help craftsy is having a SALE
1 like
5 mos ago
And, with that, my semester is done with! Yay two weeks of freedom before hell class starts!
1 like
5 mos ago
It looks like I'm online all day because I obsessively refresh even though I don't actually have time to respond XD
2 likes

Bio

Wouldn't it be a cool RP idea to have a character who isn't really possessed, but has a ghost who follows them and talks to them? Could be Ava's Demon on the bad end, and that one scene from Friends on the good end, haha!

Currently:
- GMing A Prized Bride

A now-less-stressed university student who loves to write. Timezone: Atlantic, GMT-4

My memory sucks! Don't be afraid to ping/repeatedly PM me if I’m holding you up.


If you've RP'd with me before, you'll notice that I have a collection of stock characters that I tend to adapt to different universes when needed. You'll also know that I'm not opposed to making new characters; there are just a few stock ones that I love to play ^_^

As for me:
- Since I'll never remember to update this, my birth year is 1998.
- As you can see from the symbol by my name, I'm one of the ladyfolk
- I'm from Canada, specifically Nova Scotia (home of the world's largest non-nuclear explosion, baby!)
- I'm a university student, and will remain so for the foreseeable future (even longer now since I've decided to shoot for law school)
- Huge fan of classic literature, fountain pens, fancy stationery and anything that can be done by hand
- Seriously, anything that can be done by hand. Knitting, embroidery, oragami, anything. My current vice is quilting.

RP wise:
- I have weaknesses for gladiators, mythical creatures and status/class differences
- I'm comfortable playing any gender/orientation and a wide range of personality types
- LOVE character and world building
- Wish I could find a 1x1 that I wouldn't lose interest in :/
- Active in the OOC - I like to know the people I write with!
- My scratchpad in the character sheet section is where I put my WIPs and reference content. You’re welcome to lurk, but don’t expect it to make sense.

Most Recent Posts

@Tracyarmav @Vesuvius00 @darkwolf687 @Zahrale @SilverPaw (see above; please note if you replied on Discord there's no need to reply here)
Hello everyone we've got some news for you all; some good and some not so good, but worry not my friends.

There has been a slight change in the GM roster. Ellion has chosen to step away from Prized Brides for personal reasons. To help us out Pupperr will be joining the GM ranks alongside Obscene and I. She will carry the same authority as either of us so remember to show her the same amount of respect and support. Thank you Pupperr!!

On to some even more exciting news for you all. We will be abolishing the posting cycle for players! In its stead we will require more active communication from the group in the discord chat or OOC thread. This will go into effect following the submissions of your summation posts (which has a final deadline of Monday, September 3rd). This will mean you will be responsible for keeping your own groups up to date with current events as we will no longer be policing your post orders.

To maintain proper IC time management, the GMs will continue to follow the 14 day cycle for plot moving posts. The first one will be posted on Saturday, September 8th so get ready!
Any and all questions, no matter big or small, should be directed to the 'Questions for GMs' tab. Once you have received a thumbs up emote (or clarifying response) from 2/3 GMs you are good to go; we will let you know if it requires further discussion before approval or acknowledgement.

Due to an unintentional (and undeserved) ghosting on your GM's part, the group as a whole has appeared to fall into a brief hiatus. Please rest assured that we are fixing the problems that led to this and will be working diligently to continue to provide you with an amazing story. To help us out with this, we need an official roll call. In addition to submitting your summary post prior to deadline, we ask that you react to this post with any emote you like (PLEASE ONLY REACT ONCE PER PERSON!) by the Sept. 3rd deadline.

Moving forward, inactivity will be up to the GM council's discretion. Ghosting by players (yes, including the GM) will not be tolerated. Failure to properly communicate will lead to an assumption of loss of interest in which case official action will be taken.

We hope to see you all very soon to continue this thrilling tale of the Prized Brides!

Bride(?) of Morganna @WeepingLiberty
Interacting with Morganna

The trip to wherever she was had gone largely unnoticed by Lienna, who had spent the ride drifting in and out of a sleep-like state, roused by the occasional painful bump only to drift off into sweet unconsciousness again. Last she remembered, she was on a horse, but when her eyes fluttered open again she was in a stone room, tucked into a soft bed.

As soon as her eyes opened, Lienna closed them again, slowly and carefully rolling onto her side. Her head swam, her body ached, and she was in no mood for surprises. Whatever would come, would come, and that was the start and end of it. She was just grateful for the bed.

Unfortunately, her peace soon ended at the sound of muffled conversation nearby, followed by the opening of a door and a clear voice with a familiar tone.

“My, my…. He certainly did a number on you didn’t he? Curious as he left the other one all but untouched, didn’t strike him for the devoted type. Change of heart, Lienna?”

Lienna's heart sank. Yes, she definitely knew that voice. It was the Drakkan woman from the night before. The one who'd offered them a deal. The bear who had tossed her to the wolves.

Carefully, she sat up in the bed to face the woman, pulling her blankets up over her breasts as she did so. Her eyes felt like they were full of sand, so she could do little more than squint. She caught a glimpse of her arms as she did so, once ivory, now mottled in shades of red, blue and green. They'd only get worse before they got better.

"Nothing has changed," she croaked, looking away from her arms and towards the woman. "I'm still the slave I was brought here to be, but now presumably in the hands of a new master."

The woman only laughed once, nudging herself gracefully off of the door frame with a sway of her hip as she turned to leave. "Ah, you will be fun," she sighed condescendingly, disappearing down the hall.

The woman wasn't gone a minute before the door was opened again, this time by a girl who looked like nothing Lienna had ever seen before. She wasn't a Drakkan, but she was a far cry from a Gem too. Her legs looked more like a deer's than a Gem' (complete with hooves!) and her tan skin was patterned with brown and mottled with white spots. Long ears protruded from chestnut hair, twisting this way and that at every noise. Lienna could do nothing but stare.

The girl said nothing as she entered, didn't even glance at Lienna as she made a beeline to the dresser. It was then that Lienna noticed just how big everything was. The strange girl wasn't much taller than herself, but the door frame was almost twice her height. Even the dresser against the opposite wall rose to the girl's ribs, whereas a properly sized one would only have reached her hips.

The girl hadn't come empty-handed. In one hand was a ceramic basin filled with fabric, balanced on her hip; in the other was a pitcher. She deposited both on the dresser, picking up the fabric and placing it on the foot of the bed with practiced grace.

"I brought you some clothes," said the girl, unfolding what looked like a tunic, "And there's some warm water if you'd like to wash. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The girl stood pin-straight, the picture of a proper servant, but she had a queer look in her eyes when she looked at Lienna. A pained, yet knowing look. Lienna could tell she was trying not to look at the bruises on her arms, and she wondered how many Gems the girl had seen in her condition before.

"Where am I?" she asked the girl, completely ignoring the question.

The girl looked towards the hallway. "You're in the Dantanath Estate," she replied. "My name is Alice, I'm one of the household servants."

Lienna nodded. She recognized the name - Dantanath - as the surname of the Drakkan she'd been given to. It must have been him who came for her, probably angry that someone else had claimed his prize. "Who was that woman? I remember her from the Choosing, but why is she here?"

"That's Morganna Dantanath," Alice replied, "She's the sister of Azilon, the man who brought you here."

Lienna nodded again, twisting her covers in her hands, eyes unfocused, trained on some point far away ahead of her. So, she was back with her husband. She supposed she knew what that meant now, if last night had been any indication.

"Thank you, Alice," she said finally, focusing once more on the servant girl, "I hope we might cross paths again."

Alice gave a curt bow of the head. "I expect we will," she replied as she turned to leave, "I'm always around."

"Wait," Lienna called, catching Alice just before she turned down the hall, "I haven't told you who I am."

Alice simply shrugged, with a sad smile. "I suppose it doesn't matter."

~ / / / ~


Lienna must have drifted off again, because suddenly she was waking up with a horrible crick in her neck from sleeping semi-upright against the wall. With a groan, she let her torso flop forward over her legs, letting her head hang and stretch out the soreness. Of course a hundred other parts of her started hurting when she moved, but she had to start somewhere.

Leaning back once more, she thought long and hard about going back to sleep. Eventually, she decided against it; she may have wanted to disappear and sleep for the rest of her life, but she had to come back to reality sometime. That, and she was starving.

Taking a moment to brace herself, Lienna gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed, sliding into a sitting position. She had to pause, feet dangling off the floor from the raised-too-high bed for a moment as pain shot through her body. Sitting, it would seem, was particularly uncomfortable.

She took one deep breath to ready herself and slid off the bed, pausing again and leaning against it to stabilize herself. Once she mustered up the courage, she made a beeline for the dresser, where the basin and water awaited her.

She was suddenly conscious of how absolutely disgusting she felt, and the water in front of her seemed like a gift from Naia herself. She dipped a hand right into the pitcher, and was sad to find the water had gone cold.
No matter. She simply placed her hands on the outside of the pitcher and closed her eyes, and it was only a moment before the water was steaming again.

Picking the pitcher up, she moved to fill the basin and noticed something sitting on the bottom of it. A knife, a dagger with a wicked blade and an ornately forged handle. Lienna picked it up, noticing how large it was in her hands, and turned it a few times to see the light shine off the exquisitely polished surface of the blade.

Was this a message? A challenge? She doubted it was Alice who put it there; after all, why would the servants care enough to threaten a bride? Perhaps it had been her husband. A gift, maybe? No, Lienna was sure suicide was too common among Gem brides to present the opportunity so openly. So why the dagger?

She laid it aside on the dresser, deciding to decipher its meaning after she was done. She poured her now-hot water into the basin, halting a moment to let the steam envelop her face. There was a washcloth draped over the side of the basin, but Lienna didn't need it. Closing her eyes, she let the water crawl over her like a snake, scrubbing her every surface clean and warming her like a hug from an old friend. She breathed in the steam, and for a moment she was able to relax. After some time, when the water had gone cold and she decided she'd done enough (she didn't feel clean, but she couldn't just stand there for the days it would take her to get there) she let the water slide back into the basin, leaving her skin perfectly dry and pleasantly moisturized. She was surprised to see the water was about as clear as when she'd started; the way she felt, she expected it to have turned black with filth.

She picked up the knife again, looking it over as she crossed back over to the bed and laying it aside on the covers to see what clothes Alice had brought her. It was a dusty red, sleeveless tunic. The shoulders came to points, secured by little gold clasps. The fabric was lightweight and soft.

Lienna pulled the tunic over her head and walked across the room, where an overly tall mirror rested in the corner. The neckline of the tunic rippled around her breasts like a cowl, just low enough to expose cleavage on a more well-endowed woman than herself. The gold clasps felt cool on her bruised shoulders, and the fabric was light and airy. A gold chain was supplied as well, which Lienna used to tie off the waist, bringing the hem of the tunic up above her knees. There was a draft on her back, and when she turned she noticed the back resembled the front, except that it dipped all the way down to her tailbone. The exposed skin was mottled with bruises, some in the vague shape of large hand prints. Turning back around, she could see fingerprint bruises along her arms and a well-defined hand print around her neck.

She went back to the bed and sat down, picking up the knife once more. The hilt was ornately carved in black metal, with lines of red enamel snaking down the handle. It was then that something clicked in Lienna's mind. It was a weak hunch, but Morganna had been dressed head-to-toe in black and red when she came to check on her. Was this Morganna's knife? From what little Lienna knew of the woman, she seemed to be the type to play with her food before she ate it. Did she intend to mess with Lienna as long as she was with Azilon here?

A soft knock on the door pulled Lienna from her thoughts. It opened to reveal Alice once again, and Lienna hastily hid the knife behind her. "I was sent to come collect you for dinner," said Alice.

Lienna stood quickly, regretting it immediately as her muscles complained. "Thank you, Alice. Will you show me the way?"

"Of course."

As Alice turned, Lienna called some water from the basin to her hand, drawing it into a long point and freezing it to a razor's edge.

Lienna followed Alice through the halls and down some stairs to the main dining hall, where it looked like the family was gathering for dinner. Every step was uncomfortable, alerting Lienna of yet another site of soreness. When she reached the hall, she looked around briefly for Rya; however, when her eyes fell on Morganna, she made a beeling toward her.

Approaching with her back straight and an only slightly hobbling gait, she stopped in front of Morganna and tipped her head in a small bow, holding out the dagger in one open palm.

"I believe this belongs to you," she said, concentrating hard on keeping her tone respectful. Hateful as the woman was, it wouldn't do to disrespect a member of her husband's family. She wanted to garner favour as quickly as possible after the events of the Choosing.

She then produced the razor-sharp icicle in the other hand, adding, "I think you'll find I have no use for such things."

Bride(?) of Morganna @WeepingLiberty
Interacting with Morganna

The trip to wherever she was had gone largely unnoticed by Lienna, who had spent the ride drifting in and out of a sleep-like state, roused by the occasional painful bump only to drift off into sweet unconsciousness again. Last she remembered, she was on a horse, but when her eyes fluttered open again she was in a stone room, tucked into a soft bed.

As soon as her eyes opened, Lienna closed them again, slowly and carefully rolling onto her side. Her head swam, her body ached, and she was in no mood for surprises. Whatever would come, would come, and that was the start and end of it. She was just grateful for the bed.

Unfortunately, her peace soon ended at the sound of muffled conversation nearby, followed by the opening of a door and a clear voice with a familiar tone.

“My, my…. He certainly did a number on you didn’t he? Curious as he left the other one all but untouched, didn’t strike him for the devoted type. Change of heart, Lienna?”

Lienna's heart sank. Yes, she definitely knew that voice. It was the Drakkan woman from the night before. The one who'd offered them a deal. The bear who had tossed her to the wolves.

Carefully, she sat up in the bed to face the woman, pulling her blankets up over her breasts as she did so. Her eyes felt like they were full of sand, so she could do little more than squint. She caught a glimpse of her arms as she did so, once ivory, now mottled in shades of red, blue and green. They'd only get worse before they got better.

"Nothing has changed," she croaked, looking away from her arms and towards the woman. "I'm still the slave I was brought here to be, but now presumably in the hands of a new master."

The woman only laughed once, nudging herself gracefully off of the door frame with a sway of her hip as she turned to leave. "Ah, you will be fun," she sighed condescendingly, disappearing down the hall.

The woman wasn't gone a minute before the door was opened again, this time by a girl who looked like nothing Lienna had ever seen before. She wasn't a Drakkan, but she was a far cry from a Gem too. Her legs looked more like a deer's than a Gem' (complete with hooves!) and her tan skin was patterned with brown and mottled with white spots. Long ears protruded from chestnut hair, twisting this way and that at every noise. Lienna could do nothing but stare.

The girl said nothing as she entered, didn't even glance at Lienna as she made a beeline to the dresser. It was then that Lienna noticed just how big everything was. The strange girl wasn't much taller than herself, but the door frame was almost twice her height. Even the dresser against the opposite wall rose to the girl's ribs, whereas a properly sized one would only have reached her hips.

The girl hadn't come empty-handed. In one hand was a ceramic basin filled with fabric, balanced on her hip; in the other was a pitcher. She deposited both on the dresser, picking up the fabric and placing it on the foot of the bed with practiced grace.

"I brought you some clothes," said the girl, unfolding what looked like a tunic, "And there's some warm water if you'd like to wash. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The girl stood pin-straight, the picture of a proper servant, but she had a queer look in her eyes when she looked at Lienna. A pained, yet knowing look. Lienna could tell she was trying not to look at the bruises on her arms, and she wondered how many Gems the girl had seen in her condition before.

"Where am I?" she asked the girl, completely ignoring the question.

The girl looked towards the hallway. "You're in the Dantanath Estate," she replied. "My name is Alice, I'm one of the household servants."

Lienna nodded. She recognized the name - Dantanath - as the surname of the Drakkan she'd been given to. It must have been him who came for her, probably angry that someone else had claimed his prize. "Who was that woman? I remember her from the Choosing, but why is she here?"

"That's Morganna Dantanath," Alice replied, "She's the sister of Azilon, the man who brought you here."

Lienna nodded again, twisting her covers in her hands, eyes unfocused, trained on some point far away ahead of her. So, she was back with her husband. She supposed she knew what that meant now, if last night had been any indication.

"Thank you, Alice," she said finally, focusing once more on the servant girl, "I hope we might cross paths again."

Alice gave a curt bow of the head. "I expect we will," she replied as she turned to leave, "I'm always around."

"Wait," Lienna called, catching Alice just before she turned down the hall, "I haven't told you who I am."

Alice simply shrugged, with a sad smile. "I suppose it doesn't matter."

~ / / / ~


Lienna must have drifted off again, because suddenly she was waking up with a horrible crick in her neck from sleeping semi-upright against the wall. With a groan, she let her torso flop forward over her legs, letting her head hang and stretch out the soreness. Of course a hundred other parts of her started hurting when she moved, but she had to start somewhere.

Leaning back once more, she thought long and hard about going back to sleep. Eventually, she decided against it; she may have wanted to disappear and sleep for the rest of her life, but she had to come back to reality sometime. That, and she was starving.

Taking a moment to brace herself, Lienna gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed, sliding into a sitting position. She had to pause, feet dangling off the floor from the raised-too-high bed for a moment as pain shot through her body. Sitting, it would seem, was particularly uncomfortable.

She took one deep breath to ready herself and slid off the bed, pausing again and leaning against it to stabilize herself. Once she mustered up the courage, she made a beeline for the dresser, where the basin and water awaited her.

She was suddenly conscious of how absolutely disgusting she felt, and the water in front of her seemed like a gift from Naia herself. She dipped a hand right into the pitcher, and was sad to find the water had gone cold.
No matter. She simply placed her hands on the outside of the pitcher and closed her eyes, and it was only a moment before the water was steaming again.

Picking the pitcher up, she moved to fill the basin and noticed something sitting on the bottom of it. A knife, a dagger with a wicked blade and an ornately forged handle. Lienna picked it up, noticing how large it was in her hands, and turned it a few times to see the light shine off the exquisitely polished surface of the blade.

Was this a message? A challenge? She doubted it was Alice who put it there; after all, why would the servants care enough to threaten a bride? Perhaps it had been her husband. A gift, maybe? No, Lienna was sure suicide was too common among Gem brides to present the opportunity so openly. So why the dagger?

She laid it aside on the dresser, deciding to decipher its meaning after she was done. She poured her now-hot water into the basin, halting a moment to let the steam envelop her face. There was a washcloth draped over the side of the basin, but Lienna didn't need it. Closing her eyes, she let the water crawl over her like a snake, scrubbing her every surface clean and warming her like a hug from an old friend. She breathed in the steam, and for a moment she was able to relax. After some time, when the water had gone cold and she decided she'd done enough (she didn't feel clean, but she couldn't just stand there for the days it would take her to get there) she let the water slide back into the basin, leaving her skin perfectly dry and pleasantly moisturized. She was surprised to see the water was about as clear as when she'd started; the way she felt, she expected it to have turned black with filth.

She picked up the knife again, looking it over as she crossed back over to the bed and laying it aside on the covers to see what clothes Alice had brought her. It was a dusty red, sleeveless tunic. The shoulders came to points, secured by little gold clasps. The fabric was lightweight and soft.

Lienna pulled the tunic over her head and walked across the room, where an overly tall mirror rested in the corner. The neckline of the tunic rippled around her breasts like a cowl, just low enough to expose cleavage on a more well-endowed woman than herself. The gold clasps felt cool on her bruised shoulders, and the fabric was light and airy. A gold chain was supplied as well, which Lienna used to tie off the waist, bringing the hem of the tunic up above her knees. There was a draft on her back, and when she turned she noticed the back resembled the front, except that it dipped all the way down to her tailbone. The exposed skin was mottled with bruises, some in the vague shape of large hand prints. Turning back around, she could see fingerprint bruises along her arms and a well-defined hand print around her neck.

She went back to the bed and sat down, picking up the knife once more. The hilt was ornately carved in black metal, with lines of red enamel snaking down the handle. It was then that something clicked in Lienna's mind. It was a weak hunch, but Morganna had been dressed head-to-toe in black and red when she came to check on her. Was this Morganna's knife? From what little Lienna knew of the woman, she seemed to be the type to play with her food before she ate it. Did she intend to mess with Lienna as long as she was with Azilon here?

A soft knock on the door pulled Lienna from her thoughts. It opened to reveal Alice once again, and Lienna hastily hid the knife behind her. "I was sent to come collect you for dinner," said Alice.

Lienna stood quickly, regretting it immediately as her muscles complained. [color-baa7c7]"Thank you, Alice. Will you show me the way?"[/color]

"Of course."

As Alice turned, Lienna called some water from the basin to her hand, drawing it into a long point and freezing it to a razor's edge.

Lienna followed Alice through the halls and down some stairs to the main dining hall, where it looked like the family was gathering for dinner. Every step was uncomfortable, alerting Lienna of yet another site of soreness. When she reached the hall, she looked around briefly for Rya; however, when her eyes fell on Morganna, she made a beeling toward her.

Approaching with her back straight and an only slightly hobbling gait, she stopped in front of Morganna and tipped her head in a small bow, holding out the dagger in one open palm.

"I believe this belongs to you," she said, concentrating hard on keeping her tone respectful. Hateful as the woman was, it wouldn't do to disrespect a member of her husband's family. She wanted to garner favour as quickly as possible after the events of the Choosing.

She then produced the razor-sharp icicle in the other hand, adding, "I think you'll find I have no use for such things."

Bride of Morganna? @WeepingLiberty, sister-bride to Rya Mire? @Ellion
Interacting with: The Fam (TM) and Rynek Darion

“They’re yours. Now get out before I change my mind.”

Suddenly, Lienna and Rya both were shoved toward the intruders, out of the crowd and into the open. Lienna's head spun, her vision swam. Her whole body was rocked by the shock of what she'd just done. She didn't breathe.

The few seconds that the intruder's minions hesitated felt like hours. Lienna could feel their eyes on them, feel the tension between them and the rest of the room. The Drakkan woman had been right; it was like being faced with a pack of wolves.

In reality, it didn't take long for the minions to come to their senses. They rushed forward and seized the girls, one each grabbing them by the arms and half-dragging, half-carrying them out. Outwardly, and by Drakkan standards, the exit would have been surprisingly calm, far from the explosive ending many of them - Lienna included - had been expecting. But to Lienna, it was chaotic indeed. The group converged around them as they exited, clanking and tinkling of mail and metal all around as they sank into a small ocean of tall bodies. The intruder himself, Rynek, said something in his ringing voice as they left, but Lienna didn't catch what it was.

Once outside in the remnants of the rain, Lienna was thrown over the shoulder of the Drakkan who had grabbed her as he mounted a horse. Soon the whole party had mounted and they were on their way... somewhere.

Lienna, facing backward over the shoulder of the hulking rider, couldn't see where they were going; of course, she wasn't sure it would matter if she had. All she could see was the city walls as they shrunk in the distance and the mop of white hair riding at the rear of the group. She couldn't make out his eyes, but she felt like he was watching her.

It wasn't long before the band came to a stop in a small encampment near what appeared to be the main road in and out of the city. The camp consisted of a cluster of several animal skin tents, with the largest being situated in the centre, presumably the tent belonging to the group's commander. Lienna's suspicions were confirmed when the Drakken holding her and Rya wasted no time dismounting and dragging them to the largest tent, unceremoniously throwing them inside. Luckily the two brutes didn't follow them in, but Lienna could hear that they didn't go far. Standing guard, probably.

The tent could have been considered spacious, though to Lienna's eyes it just looked like it would be difficult to heat. The ground was covered with various carpets and skins, and there was a space in the middle of the tent that was thickly padded with furs. Lienna recognized the spot to be a bed, and a nice one at that. Off to one side was a plain wooden trunk, before which Rya sat, leaning back onto it.

"You coward," Rya spat, "So timid are you that you grovel at the feet of the bear just to escape the fox?" Her voice took on a high, mocking pitch. "Yes, there are no safe places in Drakka, and now we die for your lust."

Lienna glared daggers at Rya, but opted not to respond. Inwardly, a storm raged. A coward? She was surprised Rya could muster those words without laughing at the irony of them coming from her mouth. Still, Lienna couldn't help but be angry at herself. What on earth had come over her? Had it truly been lust? If so, it was not what she'd expected. If not, it had been some sort of adrenaline-fueled haze she'd rather not be clouded by again.

She moved to situate herself more comfortably (her dress had been twisted on the trip) but it wasn't long before the door flap of the tent opened again. This time, the one who stepped through the door was none other than their apparent new "husband".

Rynek looked them over greedily, lust shining in his pale eyes. "Well, don’t my blushing brides look ravishing."

"Ravagers ravishing recklessly,” muttered Rya.

Lienna didn't know what to do. Whatever had clouded her judgement at the choosing ceremony was gone now, replaced by the visceral dread of the weight of her situation crashing down on her. She didn't know what would happen next, there was no way out, and she had dragged an innocent (if slightly mad) girl down with her.

“Well, the real prize first."

He wasted no time crossing the tent to meet Lienna. For an instant she wanted to run, but held fast. Running, she was certain, would only make things worse.

Rynek brought her to her feet with ease, only to apply a similarly minute amount of effort to tearing off her dress.

Lienna took a breath.

"Water always finds a way."
~ /// ~

The tent had no windows, so there was no way of knowing what time of day it was when the onslaught finally ceased and Rynek rolled over to rest, seemingly (hopefully) satisfied.

Lienna, on the other hand, was in much worse condition. Thoroughly exhausted, she collapsed onto the furs and did not move, dead to the world. Her skin stung, much of her was hurting, and she wasn't even confident she could stand and take a step. Never had she experienced such soreness. She could feel a hot flush in some places, surely starting to swell. It was all she could do to heave her next breath. Luckily, exhaustion soon took her and she could do nothing to resist the sleep that gripped her.

Seconds later, it seemed, she was jarred awake by the sound of clashing steel outside of the tent. Managing to crack one eye open, Lienna was relieved to see that there was no immediate danger in the tent. The sounds outside would have bothered her more if she had had, at the moment, any will to live.

In the darkness of the tent, she could just make out a figure by the trunk, rummaging through it. Assuming it was Rya, she watched as she drew something from the trunk and crossed the tent to take up a position by the door. Maybe she was poised to run, Lienna didn't care. She didn't even move, instead electing to close her eyes once more and welcome whatever fate would befall her with open arms.

At some point the sounds of fighting outside ceased, and footsteps neared the door of the tent. Lienna didn't bother to open her eyes, but heard the sickening thud-and-suction sound of something being stabbed - a sound she'd heard many a time back home when hunting.

Whose idea was it to let you play with the sharp objects?

Are you alright little Api? If that scum Lord has harmed you, I promise he has paid dearly for it.

The voice was familiar, but Lienna couldn't place it. If she hadn't known better she'd have assumed that it was her original "husband", but something about that, in her mind, seemed unlikely after he'd given them up without a fight.

Footsteps approached her, and she didn't even bother looking up. “You look like complete shit," came the voice, and of course, she didn't care enough to respond. He was probably right, anyway.

Then something was being wrapped around her and before she knew it, a pair of strong arms scooped her up, a hiss escaping her lips as the hands pressed on her various sore spots. Her eyes fluttered open, but the tent was too dark to make out the face. Realizing she didn't much care who it was, Lienna simply rested her head against his chest and offered no resistance.

Ever ridden a horse before Rya? If not, today is your lucky day. Come along, we’re going home.

Guys holy shit I'm not dead, it may have looked like it but check it out, my heart started beating again.
And my inspiration has been RENEWED!

Hooray!

Bride of Azilon Dantanath @WeepingLiberty, sister-bride to Rya Mire @Ellion
Reacting near Morganna @WeepingLibertyand bitching out Rya @Ellion

So entranced was Lienna by the intruder that she somehow let herself be dragged by the chain around her wrist through the crowd, all the while bobbing and weaving to keep her view as she was escorted along. Some vague chatter of some vague bribe wafted past her, but she didn't register it; someone squeezed her hand, but she wasn't concerned. She was somehow consumed by the appearance of this dangerous stranger, unable to tear her eyes away lest he make a move while her back was turned. It was not until what she could only assume was some kind of imp took her by the hair and pulled her to face a very tall, very imposing female drakkan that she snapped out of her reverie.

The drakkan was the least of Lienna's worries as she came to her senses, eyes wide and face screwed up in a mixture of anger and surprise. She turned not on the drakkan, but on her timid little sister-bride who so boldly took her like a lead. It was then, as she firmly grasped and purposefully separated Rya's hand from her hair, that she remembered what Rya had asked, and what the female had proposed.

Despite being relatively slow to anger, Lienna had quite the potent spiteful streak, and (though it rarely did) it could gather and strike her in little more than a heartbeat. So while it may have come as a surprise to any onlooker, she wasn't altogether out of her element when she turned her burning eyes on Rya instead of the drakkan.

"You coward," she spat, "So timid are you that you grovel at the feet of the bear just to escape the fox?" Her hands were collecting moisture from the air and beginning to steam; her eyes were turning an ever more saturated shade of blue.

@Belle I shall poke salty with fervour!
"Maha'as. Maha'as. Treyu, Treyu, Maha'as."

The low chanting preceded the dawn, but with luck, there would be just enough time. She was almost done.

The light was still low, but luckily the moon was on her side and the dew was still glistening on every surface, meaning her prey could not escape. Usually impossible to spot, the grey light of pre-dawn illuminated the moth white against the black bark beneath it, wings outstretched, waiting for the sun to dry them. It was easily as big as her hand, with a fat, fuzzy body - a perfect morning snack.

In one sudden motion, Linta snatched the moth up by the wing, stuffing it quickly into her pouch lest any of the rest of her catch escape. Finally. It had only taken all night.

"Maha'as, Maha'as. Treyu, Treyu, Maha'as."

The chanting grew louder as more voices joined in, and the first birds began to stir and sing. Pressed for time, she scrambled down the thin tree-top and made her way to the baskets, jumping from branch to swaying branch with urgency. Luckily, she was nearby, and she made it just as the others were beginning to surface above the canopy.

The baskets were set atop the trees, nested tightly in their uppermost branches, with only sky above them. Linta rushed to the one atop her tree, a flurry of motion starkly contrast to the slow approach of her neighbours. Several women had sleeping babies in slings on their backs; elders looked out from their hollows, sending younger climbers up in their stead; there were even some bleary-eyed children, quietly yawning. They all chanted in low voices as they climbed to their baskets to deposit their own offerings.

"Maha'as. Maha'as. Treyu, Treyu, Maha'as."


"Maha'as, Maha'as," Linta whispered breathlessly, in tandem with the rest, "Treyu, Treyu, Maha'as." The chanting grew louder as people made their offerings. She pulled opened the lid of her basket and put her pouch inside, shaking its contents out and quickly - quickly, now - closing the lid. Luckily this time she'd been quick enough, and none of her offerings had managed to escape. The basket lid, woven from the skinny dried leaves of wicker vines, had rather wide gaps between fibres. Still, they'd been constructed carefully, meaning that the gaps were wide enough for the tips of Treyu bills to pass through without issue, but not quite large enough for the offerings within - certain, special insects - to wriggle out.

She wound the closing-cord tightly around the handle of the basket, securing it in place, before retreating and slinking down the tree once more. "Maha'as. Maha'as. Treyu, Treyu, Maha'as."

The chanting softened once more as the offerings were completed, fading into silence just as the chorus of waking birds rose to meet it. With that, the day could begin.

~ / / / ~


The sun was higher in the sky when Linta emerged from her hollow for the second time; not afternoon yet, but well into the morning. Once again she was grateful to her past self for choosing a spot so far from the canopy. In her family's hollow, her eyes would have been stabbed by the light as soon as she emerged, but only a few direct rays managed to reach this far down. Still, she had to blink several times to adjust to the sudden light when she opened her curtain.

Unsteady from sleep, she spent a few minutes sat on the edge of her hollow before heading out. She used the time to observe the activity above her: people walking here and there along the dozens of ropes criss-crossing the trees, or climbing up and down the mighty trunks. She saw people with wide baskets on their heads, children bouncing on slack lines, even a couple whose front-most member kept up the conversation by walking backwards. They all looked strikingly like ants marching along thin branches.

Before leaving, Linta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The morning chill had not quite gone, she could feel the cold dampness on her skin and the cool air felt clean in her lungs. Distant conversations floated down between the trees like the chattering of birds, punctuated by the occasional shout or shriek of laughter. A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves, caressing every villager with motherly gentleness. The tree itself vibrated near-imperceptibly as people climbed above.

As soon as she opened them, her eyes were pulled down, first to her feet swinging off the hollow's edge, then down, down, endlessly down to where the tree trunks faded into blackness. Unlike the view above, Linta's view below was uninterrupted by tightropes or hollows. Looking down, she could have been the only person in those trees. She'd always been told never to look down, but from the first time she'd done it, she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Newly refreshed, Linta stood up, stretched, and took to the trunk. She'd carved hand and footholds into the wood when she'd started carving out her hollow, but she rarely needed to use them. The bark of these trees was thick and strong, with cracks deep enough to easily hold onto. She had to climb a short distance to reach the first rope, which was the beginning (or end, she supposed) of the criss-cross of lines that connected the village. Once there, she took off across. She had always been faster on the lines than climbing anyway.
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