#khiata

[corviddraws4815]

A gift for @nolotec-project of a new character, Khiata! (I know I spelled it wrong on the pic I'm sorry plz forgive me ^^') I helped design her, and I'll let Quinn tell you a bit more about her <3

[weav-art]

Khiata, somber princess of the Satahra family

i also need to draw her more oops

Read her toyhouse

[nolotec-project-blog]

Jamjima is John Mulaney and his friends shouting "fuck da police" at the police Khiata is Bill Clinton saying "hey, Ellen" to John Mulaney's mom Sayi is the "eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs" guy that accosted John Mulaney in the street

[nolotec-project-blog]

It's Been a While.

The cold night wind is silent in the alleys of the city, but a chill with no sound is deeper for it. It is a good night for killing.

On the roof of a small, single-roomed clay building which forms one wall of an alley, there is crouched a figure clad in tattered clothes. They aim a crossbow at a plain patch of wall on the building opposing theirs. Their breathing is so quiet and slow, they may appear dead to someone not accustomed to crossbow-wielding strangers. They make no move to adjust their position, scratch an itch, or in any way indicate they exist at all. Like them, the alley is still as stone.

Someone rounds the corner of the alley, silently moving against the opposite wall. The figure on the roof squeezes gently on the crossbows trigger. Otherwise, they remain still.

The figure below pauses and looks behind themself. Seeing no one, they continue on slowly. The one on the roof remains still. Their breathing speeds up.

In the alley, the sneak lowers their guard. As they move past the entryway of the one-roomed building, they do not look inside to see if anyone awaits within. Which indeed they do; the sudden whoosh of cloth is accompanied by a thud and a pair of grunts. Someone has pinned the sneak to the wall, and holds a blade to their neck. Above, the sniper remains still.

"Where is it?" The whisper from the dark-clothed assassin is intent, desperate. They see the fear in their prey's eyes. They see the anticipation. They see those eyes look upward for the briefest of moments.

The crossbow makes the loudest sound of the night when it is fired. Before they bolt has made its mark, the sniper has moved, smoothly pushing themselves forward and off of the roof. When they land, the assassin leans against their would-be victim, skull cracked and eyes lifeless. The sneak, in turn, has tilted their head severely; where their skull had been, sticking out of the eye socket of the assassin, is the bolt.

"Took you long enough," says the decoy, pushing the corpse off of herself. The thief queen chuckles, but apologizes. "There was always the chance he was just a thief. I had to make sure. She sheds her rags to reveal a form-fitting red suit with a sunset-orange headscarf. The decoy, in turn, lowers her hood to reveal her bleached white skull, points of green light shining from the eye sockets. She turns from her queen and walks away, pocketing her assassin's dagger.