@pearlhalo -- Aevirious Ravana; a Priestess with a number of secrets - not all of them her own. She would greatly prefer it if people left her alone but her work means often going against her such desires. Blunt, sarcastic, and in general a stick in the mud.
@ghostly-haunts -- Viola Danaher; a cemetery caretaker and afraid of her own shadow, Viola spends most of her day talking to ghosts. No, really, the cemetery boasts a number of lingering spirits and she does her best to usher them onto the next life. Nervous and sweet, Viola might be a shrinking violet but that doesn’t stop her from befriending the weirdos.
@desperate-prayer -- Roisin Swan; A young, bubbly confessor with a heart of gold under a thick layer of awkward starts. The front lines might not a good place for an accident prone young woman but Rose is determined to be the best confessor every world has ever known. It’s a long journey.
@wild--growth -- Em & Poof; A story of a girl and her sheep. There might be a whole flock but Poof is really the only one that matters. Working her own farm is tiring and sometimes harder than she’d like to admit; but this Gilnean Gal is determined to make it. Now, if only she could find a Harvest Witch to teach her the old ways.
@fingers-of-frost -- Aeviria Conners; a mage with the drive to learn everything and anything she can get her little hands on. Skilled in the use of Frost magic, Aeviria is often found studying. At least, she is usually found with her nose in a book. Playful, mischievous, and a bit of a flirt Aevi is a freckle covered mischief maker.
@desperate-prayer -- Roisin Swan, young and bubbly Priestess determined to be the best Confessor on Azeroth and beyond.
@caged-light -- Aevirious, Priestess with numerous secrets who would prefer if you Left Her Alone. Blunt, sarcastic, a stick in the mud. (And my favorite.)
@ghostly-haunts -- Viola Danaher, Cemetery Caretaker and afraid of her own shadow but Lord does she try.
@tirasian-sunrise -- Lady Elrica Potts, noble from Kul’Tiras who has a fondness for horror stories, sparring, snakes, and keeping strangers at a polite arm’s length.
@wild--growth -- Em, a Shepherd from Gilneas with dreams of being a Harvest Witch. If only her teachers would stop dying!
Hours after darkness found the city walls, peace typically ensured as patrons quietly excused themselves from taverns, bars, and brothels. Often, around this hour as the morning mist rolled in from the sea, the Admiral found her consolation at the promise of peace, and relished in the brief taste of it from the hours that are far beyond late. The end of her patrol for the evening left her beside the sea, looking out from the working quarters of the harbor the Admiral’s shared in respect of filing paperwork and preforming various tasks.
With a sigh of relief, and a retrieved bottle of rum from some hiding place inside the quarters, Alexa lingered in the doorframe to observe the horizon before her. A swig of rum calmed any prior anxieties of the evening, the usual small insults of petty bar brawls and illegal actions. When the alcohol soothed her nerves, the woman decided to finally take the time and reflect of the day’s events.
As war raged on far away from this place she now called home, the typical schedule of the Rear-Admiral included nothing of excitement. An ordinary day, hours of paperwork and inspection of various fleets and ships that docked within the harbor. However, the night had started with an encounter that jarred from the common blur of the hours spent about the port city.
Indeed, a ghost amongst the shadows of the city, the Admiral had found herself surprised that she had never encountered her before. Silent, still, yet intuitive, the Priestess perched with an equanimous aura. Polished, refined, and surprisingly pleasant, the conversation carried on for what Alexa normally termed as “far too long.” Not in this case, however; her inquires and vast questions received rapid fire responses, and while as calculated as the Admiral tended to be in reading people, at times she found herself simply outmatched or at the least, quietly reeling.
Another swig of the dark rum found its way down her throat, azure eyes closing in pleasure as the sting coated her taste buds. Alexa then turned her attention back towards the city walls, quietly pondering what the Mender may be doing presently. Sleeping, likely, though it is easy to wish others were night owls as well. Until this moment of revered silence, even as composed as her thoughts tended to be, Alexa found it increasingly difficult to keep the interaction out of her thoughts. After submitting to the distraction wholly, she decided that the hooded figure may indeed be the equal match to her wandering curiosities.
A certain aura of mystery coated the interaction; Aevirious, shrouded from head to toe not only in a literal existence, but equally in that which seemingly encouraged responses to be short, almost terse. Guarded in a sense that the Admiral could only identify as a momentary front, Alexa found herself wondering what lay behind the monotone voice and words that, while soft-spoken, could cut through steel. A follower of the Light, the woman did not appear in any pragmatic fashion, such as cloaked in overzealous glee and pompous dialect often found in the highly devoted. The logical structure of her thoughts and statements throughout the conversation added to the overall allure of the Priestess, to Alexa. Not convinced of the false truths, or read to sleep by blatant lies, the bluntness and surefire way the conversation was upheld showed promise of a logical nature. Which, in Alexa’s current state tended to be a needed and welcome reprieve.
"My main squeeze…" The Monk hesitated for a moment. More than a moment actually. It was sort of an awkward shifting and coughing. "…main squeeze of pleasant evening conversation." Whoo. Totally smooth.
It’s odd how women work. She literally came forward with the idea of a casual encounter between us. Me humoring her must mean that’s all I could ever want. Maybe it’s just Lethel whispering in her ear or something. I’m not certain. It’s unfair, that’s for certain. I’ve certainly done nothing wrong and at this rate she’s made money off me.
Most of the time I walk off because it takes too much energy talking to an indifferent wall. I wouldn’t exactly go to Jim’s level and call her a construct, but she’s strange. The trip in Stranglethorn for example. She exhibited what one would assume to be playfulness, but the moment it’s reciprocated I’m just…
This time he woke up on his couch in the morning. A rough night and too much effort to get into bed. All of his clothes more often than not were strewn somewhere in the bed room so that’s where he went to change into something fresher.
And there he saw a Priest ball curled up on his bed.
Why she chose his bed when her home was at a rather convenient place in the City he would never know. Instead he just sighed and went about quietly changing. There was no point anymore to force people out. Might as well get used to his new in and out bed.
The Monk sort of winced at the sudden ruffle. The Priestess was only touchy when she was healing or she had the desire to burn someone. From what he could tell his head felt fine. “…Oh.” He glanced around before straightening up. “So uh. Hope that’s out of your system.”
The little Mender didn’t really need to bend much to give his elbow a kiss. Mayhaps it was a new healing tactic she was trying to apply. Traysk understood that there was public relations with the company…maybe. He just sort of gawked for a moment.
