Which would your characters prefer; Tea or coffee? How would they want their drinks made?
Velamor:Vela likes “coffee” more than tea, and tea more than coffee… “Coffee” of course, being cream and sugar and milk and all the other tasty additives with MAYBE a little actual coffee in the bottom…
Felanias:He likes tea more, but he does still occasionally enjoy coffee. He prefers them made with rather heavy cream, light sugar.
Alister:Alice likes pretending that his taste still works the same way. He also likes acting posh with little teacups.
Velamor is getting older and has found great use of their skills as an acrobat as they continue to train in combat techniques at home in Ravenholdt...
Sibyl straightened just slightly, if she were caught there would be hell to pay. The boss had specified she was NOT to be seen by anyone- especially the kid. "Where..? They were there just a second ago." she murmured under her breath. "Shit..." crawling prone, she edged around some rocks to get a better view. After a moment she could scan the whole field but couldn't find the kid. "Oh damnit... If I lose them I'll never-" just then there was movement. The bushes in front of the guards rustled and they both took a cautious step towards it... But no sooner had they sat foot to ground than a small lithe figure leapt up out of the bush and, like a flash of lightning, released two daggers that sunk deep into the heads of the two and then disappeared, their dusky leathers blending with the shadow of the towering manor.
A small smile crossed Sibyl’s face as she barely managed to see shadows shifting up the outer wall in a pattern that reached up to the third story window. Looking ahead, she picked out her spyglass and peered into darkened room. It seemed as if not even a reading candle was lit; the kid would have a good, clean first mark.
One of the old panes moved ever so slowly as the would-be assassin slipped through the opening. But Sibyl’s sigh of relief caught in her throat as the room seemed to catch fire with the light of half a dozen torches. A trap. Heart racing, she fumbled with her spyglass and rammed it against her eye as she whispered to herself “Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!” she found focus on the window just quick enough to see a small figure clad in black with copper hair surrounded by imposing looking bodyguards. Sibyl was torn; on one hand she’d been ordered to watch, not act. On the other hand what would Boss Ackerman say if the kid /died/? Hesitating a moment longer she forced herself to swallow her doubts and watch.
The following events took place in such a short amount of time that if she’d blinked, she’d have missed the whole thing… Several of the larger figures moved to swing, but the assassin was quick, flipping over the attacks and spinning in the air as daggers appeared in the necks of three of the guards. Before they could even strike the ground, the smaller shape had already begun dashing between the bewildered soldiers, a veritable blur amongst solid men, as sprays of blood provided the only confirmation that they were indeed under attack by something tangible.
Sibyl’s mouth fell open slightly as she tried to keep up with what almost instantly had become a room of corpses. “Velamor Ackerman…” she whispered to herself in disbelief as what she could only assume were self-congratulatory cheers began to erupt from within the room. But the crack of a whip snapped her back into reality as a stagecoach departed recklessly fast from the side of the house. Watching it leave, she smirked. “Run from your fate all you like… We’ll get y-”
But again she was startled by a noise. This one however, seemed to belong to some kind of machine. The loud grating sound came from behind a bush just outside the front gate. Adjusting her spyglass again, she focused in on the copper-haired Vela as they were revving up a motorcycle before cheering as the front end lifted off the ground and the contraption shot off at breakneck speeds in the direction of the stagecoach. “Oh hell…” Sibyl breathed as she glanced back to the now-burning manor and stood all at once, gathering her things before realizing that both Velamor and the mark, Lord Torvald Berryworth, were far gone.
A black plume billowed over the countryside. “Light…” Jameson swallowed hard as he steadied himself on the railing of the stagecoach’s roof. The wind rushing by was bitter cold and he could only barely hear the driver’s call of “Eyes peeled, Jameson!” over it’s roar. It’d be a long ride to Dun Morogh, and then they’d take the Deeprum Tram to Lord Berryworth’s cousin in Elwyn.
Looking down at his crossbow, a polished oak stock with a gold filigreed mechanism, and wondered if he’d made the right choice in all this. His whole life was being dictated by men of means. He tugged his overcoat tighter around him and turned to see the road ahead as some raspy rumbling sound began to grow. As he turned his eyes grew wide at the realization: The sound was not coming from out in front… It was growing from /behind/.
The road itself was obscured by the dust cloud the carriage was kicking up but nothing aside the roads seemed to be moving, but the sound still grew. Standing on one knee, he gripped his weapon tightly and aimed into the dust, waiting for whatever was coming… Suddenly the sound seemed to nearly silence itself, pulling back abruptly. Jameson’s brow furrowed as he tried to think of what could have possibly approached a speeding coach and then broken off the chase so quickly.
As he turned to sit back down, his better question of ‘why’ was cut short by the sound again, this time mid-range and approaching faster than possible and from-... His heart jumped as he leapt up… /from out in front/. The roar of the engine couldn’t drown out the exuberant “Heheha Yeah! Woo!” as a motorcycle ramped up from particularly steep nearby hill, banking hard on an outcropping and rolling in the air as it crested over the carriage.
The second it took felt like an age and a half to Jameson. The shooter spun on his heels, pulling the trigger while still in motion, falling back while bringing the sights around to settle on blue glowing eyes wide with- hunger? But the androgynous figure hanging from the now upside down motorcycle already had both hands extended. One brilliant flash of silver perfectly met Jameson’s arrow as it left the crossbow, the other would be the last thing he ever saw…
Berryworth had been squinting out the back window trying to see if their pursuer was still following when the roar of an engine arced overhead. He jumped from his velvet-cushioned seat, bumping his head against the ceiling. “Gah! Light damn it!” he cursed as he struggled for footing in the speeding carriage. He rushed to the direction he heard the motor disappear off into and struggled to see out the window as the driver struggled with keeping the horses under control.
Seeing nothing but passing countryside barely lit by the fading light of the night sky, Torvald growled angrily and stepped back to sit, only to have his foot swept out from under him, sending his head smacking against the rear of the seat. “Bloody-!” but just as he’d made contact with the bench, he found a high elf straddling his legs.
Moving to shove the intruder off, Torvald got about halfway through the motion before a knife was at his throat. “Not! So fast…” the elf purred in a voice that was not clearly male or female- to match the figure of course- but definitely of Gilnean accent. They winked and pulled down their mask revealing an equally ambiguous face. “You’re sure off in a hurry… Where’s the fire~?” At this Berrymore scowls, the act of swallowing forcing his throat into the blade and drawing blood “What do you want? Money? I’ll pay you double whatever you’re getting for this!” But the elf only giggles. “Money?! Ha! Torvy, Torvy, Torvy… Tsk.” Vela slides themselves forward, pressing the two together and wrapping their arms around the noble’s neck while their lips press against his ear and blade remains a hair away from his neck. “I’m just being good for mummy.” they purr as the blade sinks deep into the Lord’s neck and he claws at Velamor’s back for a few moments of futility before the life fades from his eyes.
That’s all I can think of right this moment, really sorry it took me a day to get to it! <3 If you think of a character in particular I missed that you wanted to see (I have too many), let me know! And thanks for the ask, deaderafterdark!
"I won’t stop making dangerous pacts with gods and demons."He would be stubbornly trying to protest that he isn’t wrong for doing it.
Velamor:
"I am the messiest houseguest. EVER."Vela would be sticking their tongue out playfully at the servants of Netherwrath Manor as the former displays the sign.
Kashur:
"I need to learn not to facetank everything."The sign would be hanging from the end of her bed in the infirmary.
Sothika:
"I have horrible/" "/social skills."The sign would be in two halves on the ground as she chases down whomever made it.
Alister:
"I steal corpses for twisted necromantic experiments."The sign would in fact be around the neck of a very confused looking warped ghoul, with Alister whistling(as much as a corpse can) innocently and shrugging “What? HE did it!”
Jack:
"I slept with yet another mark."The Assassin would wink slyly as Meredith rolled her eyes in the background.
Kiz-amal:
"I can’t stop trying to get everyone to DUEL ME."The Wrathguard would seem less than amused.
Vazeelghun:
"I can’t be off my leash or I slaughter the innocent."The Felguard would be bearing his teeth and eyeing any onlookers with deadly intent.
Volanoth:
"I act without orders and it scares my master."The gargantuan Annihilan, towering like the Silvermoon skyline into the air, would wear the sign and a horribly vicious grin that displayed his all-too-many fangs.
Annahylde:
"I can’t go a night without my booze."The dwarf would stop drinking some new brew and look around trying to figure out what ‘sign’ everyone’s laughing at.
Kimbally:
"I am a powerhungry little devil, and I betray EVERYONE."The gnome would shrug, “Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”
Seriphan:
"I get possessed and murder people."The scrawny magepriest would look around concerned, “Wh-what?! I’ve never killed anyone! I-… Have I?”
Razzelia:
"I am only good enough at engineering to blow everything up."" ‘ey! That’s not fair! I mean… What more do ya need?!"
Monalus:
"I bisected somebody instead of just robbing them… I’m also law enforcement."Mon would hold the sign at arm’s length, giving it a disgusted face. “Who does THIS belong to?! I couldn’t even imagine…” he’s clearly stifling a snicker.
Felanias: It really depends 100% on his mood. Sometimes he and Tyll have slow, intimate love making. Sometimes, they f*ck eachother like their lives depend on it.
Bonus! Me: I like both. But "forceful" is a lot more important to me than actual pace ^^;
Felanias: Yes and no. Fel and Tyll aren't sexually exclusive, just emotionally exclusive. So they sleep with other people now and again and it's no issue. But they've never done a "swap" in the sense that they get with another couple and "trade" for a night.Velamor: Nope. Vela sleeps around as they deem convenient/amusing but they don't do the formal "trade" either.Seriphan: Seri isn't even 100% sure that he's in a real relationship. They haven't but I think he'd be more interested in that than the other two.
Bonus! Me: Nope. In the context of Michael and I: I was permitted to sleep with whomever I saw fit and I'm sure I could have been convinced to try letting him do the same but I don't feel as comfortable with it as he did so maybe/possibly not. There's no formal agreement so we'd have to work it out.
Felanias: Fel doesn't really need to because he gets it. But if he was away from those he does it with, he probably wouldn't very much. And then only just thinking about pretty belf boys and girls. Also Eredar.Velamor: Vela doesn't really. Sex isn't about the climax for them, it's about the sexual attention. If there's nobody to appreciate them while they do it, what's the point? As an aside, if somebody was into voyeurism and wanted to watch Vela diddle themself, they totally would. And it'd mostly be just the excitement of the situation.Seriphan: Seri is fairly sexually confused. He isn't sure whether he wants to do it with men, women, or anyone else, but he /usually/ just takes what he can get (eg. In-canon porn, listening in on other people doing the frickle frackle, seeing somebody change, whatever)
Bonus! Me: Could be anything from fics, pics, audio, art, or just plain old imagination. Odd thing though... Visual porn of actual people is /usually/ not my thing. I almost feel like I can tell /way/ too much that they're just acting and it weirds me out >>;
