Introduction to Necromancy
A dim amber lit block resides inside a temporary hive complex. Its furnishings are ornamental upon wood, with cream and dusty red being its comprehensive design. Inside, a pale gray troll sits in front of a large lit vanity, their body draped in a cream colored hive robe as their finger caresses each makeup brush and jar that it brushed pass on its way to her phone. With a few flicks of her painting fingers, she peruses her selection of music before picking one that filled the room with a stringed symphony. As the pizzicato began, so too did she with applying her make up with a steady hand.
With a dusty rose that dusted the corners of her eyeliner-ed eyes and highlighted her cheek bones; paired with a subtle hint of purple. She slipped herself into her unzipped halter dress, her eye glancing at her phone as the auditory sound of zipping sounds behind her. "Am I over doing it, Archan? It's formal, but what if I hurt their feelings? He is only wearing a button up." As she talks, an old worn hand creeps onto her shoulder, its remaining finger and open sores trace circles on her shoulder, almost consoling her before crawling back off her shoulder and replacing himself with a sheer cloak for Heliane to fasten around her. "You're right, It's too late now to change. We only have five minutes left."
She misted herself with a small spray with lavender floating in the liquid, before slipping on her high heels upon her stockinged feet. "I won't be long. And I expect you to be good while I am away. I can't have you ripping of hands again in my absence, understood?" With that, she blew a kiss into the darkness and closed the door behind her. She wasn't worried being early for this arrangement her and Biuret have, she was sure they would nonchalantly make their way in right on time, or they would be late because of their "Work".
She chuckled to herself as she was escorted into the tea room, her cape taken from her by a waiter and told her guest was waiting for he-. "Hm?" Her eye widened enough to threaten her sewn eyelid to do the same, as her head whipped over to the seating area, giving the poor waiter a lashing from her hair. "Are you sure? Their name is Biuret."