send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse — ☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them
Though D’vorah’s eyes are nothing but an endless abyss of coal, the Queen’s brow line is furrowed. Having to lead the cyromancer and share cover from the storm with her was most unpleasant for the Kytinn. The young woman contained no source of heat and happened to be much too close for the Queen’s own comfort.
“ This is the most miserable situation. Perhaps you should find your own shelter. “ the Kytinn is shivering, but her wings are creating a hum as they flicker for friction to keep her warmer. The swarm in refuge also buzzing in her gut to also produce the necessary warmth needed for their Queen and them.
✧ Accepting ✧ || Send me a symbol for my character’s thoughts on your character’s…
✿ Appearance
☽Otherworldy, not in a bad way. Frigid air about her that lets you know she is not to be underestimated. But also a beauty of a tranquil snowfall.☾
☼ Personality
☽Her exterior and abilities become her but also fire dances and thus, she becomes steamed.☾ Pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head, realizing how terrible that attempt at a pun was. ☽N-nevermind, that was absolutely dreaful We lost Our train of thought…☾
✉ Intelligence
☽Underneath all that, a sharp and ambitious intellect. Even more so with the Grandmaster’s guidance. She’s earned her place in the Lin Kuei rightfully so.☾
☠ Battle Prowess
☽Cryomancers are versatile warriors, probably why Shao Kahn had them eradicated. Again, she’s of high rank for a reason, a prodigy.☾
♥ Romantic Potential
☽Frost is distant but aren’t we all when the potential for feelings becoming harmed is involved. That being said, We feel she is overly cautious and fearful of Us. It is not Our intent, We wish to simply understand, not incite walking on thin ice so to say.☾
✘ Secrets
☽None that We know of or care to uncover, We do not favor prodding.☾
☯ Decisions
☽Decisions influenced by emotion often have grim results.☾
Finally I finished this. @frostingxcrystals. ENJOY
Frost was on watch of the new recruit. Well, it was never confirmed that she was a recruit, considering she was found in their territory, in the snow, still alive, with cuts on her legs and dirt sinking deep into her fingernails. And here the girl was, silent as when she came in. Dresed in blue (which did fit her for some strange reason), red hair slicked into a tight braid.
Why was it so long? It was practically at her ankles. When she tried to ask questions, the redhead remained forever silent. And when they asked for her name, she merely pointed to her eye, to the colored part. At first she thought it was Amber, but then, a lightbulb flickered on her head.
Iris was her name.
When it came to nightfall, she noticed a bizarre pattern. Sometime between midnight and two, Iris quietly comes in, and writes a piece of paper, her writing hard to understand, but Frost knew. I can't sleep.
Frost had understood this before, this irritating urge to not stay asleep. When she was in the orphanage, kids would often play games in the night, things she would never participate in. Now, sleeping with a small blanket, with silence as her lullaby, it soothed her. But not for the new girl.
She did this now, standing over her bed with confused doe eyes. Okay.
“Come on,” yawned the cyromancer, rolling out of her bed to see Iris shivering. In nothing but the small blue pajamas, bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. “What's the reason now?”
In response, Iris took the woman's hand and began to take her to her room. She seemed frantic in her steps, the heat of her skin a strange sensation to Frost. Was she sweating, running a fever? Frost almost tripped on the carpet, but she let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the halls, and the dim lit room.
“Okaay,” Frost drawled out, looking at the room. It was simple. Bed near the window, nightstand beside it, bathroom a few steps away. A small closet. “What do you want to show me?”
Iris went towards the bed, tucking herself into the blankets, holding out her hand. An offering. Her eyes glowed like the candle. She wanted her in the bed with her.
Then, the voice scared her.
“Please?”
Frost put a hand to her heart. Hearing the girl's soft, scared voice. The accent was unique, and she was finally talking. The Chief almost mistook her for a mute. Tears misted at her eyes, and she deliberately went towards the bed, slipping beside the covers. “Oh, Iris.” she started with a sob, pulling her close so Iris's head touched her chest, fingers going through fire red hair. “I will.”
Iris cried that night, because she described in little words of a man who harmed her back. And as dawn broke, Frost was still holding on to Iris, and Iris held on to Frost.
Vega is a massive perfectionist in every way, not just his appearance. For example, he makes sure that his villa (and living quarters at Shadaloo) are kept absolutely pristine without any sort of clutter. This also applies to how he fights in the ring and his assassination missions.
*rolls sensually on the floor with a rose in my mouth* hey...
Y’know, we may have had close to none OOC encounters but I really enjoyed the lil’ situations I have Gray do with your character. I’m getting side tracked though. Your character is pretty well done, the asks, threads, etc are fun to read and Frost made Anon sad…very sad. The point is, you’re probably a pretty cool person OOC and you roleplay a pretty cool character…no pun intended. - The mun
The anon felt a sharp pain in his stomach, he looked down to see a someone had stabbed him with a knife...it felt oddly cold. The anon looked back up at who was doing this, it was Frost.
“H-hey...how are you today?” He tried to ask them in a civil manner. There was no point in being civil here, he knew what the other had done, the anon began to chuckle.
“If you think your attack worked...it failed...because I got you!” The anon yelled. “My stomach is smothering your knife!” He explained in an overly dramatic tone.
