RE: MORITURI TE SALUTANT!! [S!4] ROUND 3- OPHIDIAN JADE!
08-12-2017, 08:43 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-14-2017, 05:41 AM by Pharmacy.)
Ruby Glitter made very little progress on her wetwork assignment, but she was none too pleased when the Cockroach Man appeared again. At first, she fantasized the notions of folding him up like a pretzel and eating him right on the spot, but there was an uncharacteristic urgency in his voice.
“We…have a problem,” he stammered, wiping his forehead with a kerchief. “We need you back.”
Every syllable was like a cocktail of schadenfreude. Ruby went along with it.
The werewolf was politely escorted to the site of interest. A strange sort of bird-woman swooped around, her wingspan dwarfed the gaggle of robed figures that mobbed her. Some said figures were ranting and praying. Most were just crying. Righteously bemused, the werewolf glanced over at Melanchoria. The prophet did not have a look of confidence on her face.
“I…,” the Marconi matriarch said with no trace of irony. “Did not expect this.”
“Fuck fuck FUCK, The creature shrieked. She made an obvious effort of flailing but it came out more like refined gymnastics than a purposeful symbol of frustration. The few tethers that managed to cling on to her snapped off, not that they helped to hindered her anyway. “Fuck my life, fuck my entire ass. And – and. FUCK CHAD.”
The bird-woman flew off, her wings reflecting the lights and splendors of Ophidian Jade. Ruby cracked her knuckles and got to her – or would had gotten to her had Melanchoria not impeded her. She obliged. The werewolf watched in mild frustration as the bird-woman shrank into a white dot, occasionally blind-sided by a building. Ruby turned around to the elderly woman with a pout.
“S’not like her having wings is going to stop me.”
“Ruby, dear, you’re a werewolf. Hallowed magic is practically antithetical to you.”
“I could had done her in,” Ruby huffed. “I could had done her in good.”
Ruby would had asked why Melanchoria asked her to come back, but the prophet gave her the answer in the form of the proffered envelope before the words came even out of her mouth. Acacia Di-Capreo Linae, the envelope insisted in fine handwriting. Di-Capreo Linae – the House of Deer! Ruby would be ecstatic she remembered if she was not so confused.
“Thought you two were enemies. Bitter enemies.”
“That was a long time ago,” Melanchoria snapped. “Time heals all wounds. I know because I saw.”
“Oh!” Ruby snapped her fingers. “S’because of the Red Harmonium?”
The statement took the confidently stoic oracle off-guard. Ruby knew Melanchoria was a clairvoyant but she felt that she was starting to get a hold on her superior’s shortcomings. Personal shortcomings – like the fact Melanchoria was so focused on the future that the past dimmed in importance. The werewolf cloaked her smirk with her fingers, which aggravated the prophet to no end.
“Go! GO! You cur!”
“Alright! Alright!” Ruby laughed as she loped off to her destination. The Marconis seemed rather incompetent after this entire spectacle. She wondered if the House of Deer could fold a werewolf into their ranks.
“We…have a problem,” he stammered, wiping his forehead with a kerchief. “We need you back.”
Every syllable was like a cocktail of schadenfreude. Ruby went along with it.
The werewolf was politely escorted to the site of interest. A strange sort of bird-woman swooped around, her wingspan dwarfed the gaggle of robed figures that mobbed her. Some said figures were ranting and praying. Most were just crying. Righteously bemused, the werewolf glanced over at Melanchoria. The prophet did not have a look of confidence on her face.
“I…,” the Marconi matriarch said with no trace of irony. “Did not expect this.”
“Fuck fuck FUCK, The creature shrieked. She made an obvious effort of flailing but it came out more like refined gymnastics than a purposeful symbol of frustration. The few tethers that managed to cling on to her snapped off, not that they helped to hindered her anyway. “Fuck my life, fuck my entire ass. And – and. FUCK CHAD.”
The bird-woman flew off, her wings reflecting the lights and splendors of Ophidian Jade. Ruby cracked her knuckles and got to her – or would had gotten to her had Melanchoria not impeded her. She obliged. The werewolf watched in mild frustration as the bird-woman shrank into a white dot, occasionally blind-sided by a building. Ruby turned around to the elderly woman with a pout.
“S’not like her having wings is going to stop me.”
“Ruby, dear, you’re a werewolf. Hallowed magic is practically antithetical to you.”
“I could had done her in,” Ruby huffed. “I could had done her in good.”
Ruby would had asked why Melanchoria asked her to come back, but the prophet gave her the answer in the form of the proffered envelope before the words came even out of her mouth. Acacia Di-Capreo Linae, the envelope insisted in fine handwriting. Di-Capreo Linae – the House of Deer! Ruby would be ecstatic she remembered if she was not so confused.
“Thought you two were enemies. Bitter enemies.”
“That was a long time ago,” Melanchoria snapped. “Time heals all wounds. I know because I saw.”
“Oh!” Ruby snapped her fingers. “S’because of the Red Harmonium?”
The statement took the confidently stoic oracle off-guard. Ruby knew Melanchoria was a clairvoyant but she felt that she was starting to get a hold on her superior’s shortcomings. Personal shortcomings – like the fact Melanchoria was so focused on the future that the past dimmed in importance. The werewolf cloaked her smirk with her fingers, which aggravated the prophet to no end.
“Go! GO! You cur!”
“Alright! Alright!” Ruby laughed as she loped off to her destination. The Marconis seemed rather incompetent after this entire spectacle. She wondered if the House of Deer could fold a werewolf into their ranks.